Overcast, miserable day. Go to lunch at 1pm and purchase a pair of boots I took a fancy to the other day. They cost £17.99 - the most I've ever paid for footwear.
The afternoon is one of nail biting and is passed with much trepidation on my part. Dentists are not my favourite professional people. By the time it comes for me to vacate the YP building I realise just what the Angolan mercenaries must have gone through prior to been dragged out into the street & disposed of.
It wasn't bad at all really. The waiting is the agonising bit. No doubt Colonel Callan was in the same frame of mind as the shots rang out.
Home on the 6.30 33 bus and meet John parked outside the chemist with a pained expression on his face. The car had ceased to function. Maria emerged from the pharmacy and had hysterics over my new boots. She could not believe that I had actually bought them. I pushed the car down onto Park Road - John steering the vehicle and Maria jogging along side - making ribald comments about my car-pushing capabilities. The car did start, and I was home for 6.30. The numbness had worn off by 8 o'clock and I did manage to have fish and chips a couple of hours later.
Ring Lynne at 10.30.
5th after Trinity. A beautifully hot day. Awakened at 6.10am to see Susan standing over me. Give her a big kiss. She's home 12 hours before we had expected. Alison, Martyn, Dave B, Peter N are downstairs with Mr Dixon, & Lynn is chatting in a high pitched tone with Mum. Go downstairs. Fog was responsible for their flight being switched from Heathrow to Luton. Poor Mr Dixon had to chase across the Midlands in hot pursuit of the plane and finally collected them at 4 o'clock this morning. Alison and her Dad go at 7, and after a cooked breakfast I go down onto the lawn until lunch.
John & Maria come at lunchtime and we have a nice meal. My face is stinging with the sun and I feel like ruddy Rudolph the soddin' Red Nosed Reindeer.
We all go back onto the lawn until tea time and Uncle Peter, Auntie Jean and the kids roll in for ten minutes at about 4 o'clock.
Sitting next to Maria I can see the baby kicking about and watch with fascination as her stomach violently vibrates. My future nephew shows all signs of being a vigorous little devil.
Later: Lynne comes at 8.30 and the two of us go to the Commercial until closing time. She does tend to have 'moods' occasionally but I'm the perfect match in that respect because very few can be as nasty as me when I choose to be.
Go into Guiseley with Mum & Dad and get a pair of rubber soles for my new shoes. On Otley Road I meet Susan Kirk - my second cousin - with her baby brother Stuart, who is almost 3. He breaks down crying when he sees me & appears to be frightened to death. Mum & Dad laugh with Raymond - who doesn't resemble Dad in any way whatsoever.
(Family tree showing the descent of Susan Kirk & myself from Polly Upton).
See the opening of the Olympic Games in Montreal. The Queen, all in pink, seemed somewhat severe. I bet she was thinking someone was about to take a pot shot at her. These French Canadians cannot be trusted.
Considering ringing Lynne at 8.30 but Chris rings to say I'm too late because she's buggered off with her friend Jean for the evening. Chris comes up at 9.30 and we go to the Hare. John comes in on his own because Maria is feeling off colour, & Jimmy Macdonald and Peter comes too. Move on to the Rose & Crown (Ilkley) and then to a really rough dive, where I meet Barbara Woodhead. She asks me what became of Carole. When I described the events of May 4 she didn't register any surprise and says: "Oh they're all like that in that family". I feel a fool because I never realised they were so unstable until it was too late. Back to Harry Ramsden's where I have fish and chips - twice. Home at midnight feeling angry about Lynne. She shouldn't have pissed off without lettng me know.
Buy a pair of shoes at lunchtime after having spent all morning showing a 16 year-old girl the library & the cuttings and filing system.
That night: Lynne comes at 8.30-9 o'clock & we go to the Hare. I previously presented her with an old pair of jeans I no longer wish to wear & a white rose. We laughed a good deal but once we were in the pub the communications seems to have lagged somewhat. Dave L was out with Sandra and so was Christine & Stuart, who go on holiday to Austria & Italy next week. John & Maria, Andy and Linda, Chris, Pete M, Jimmy Macdonald, &c, all in the pub. At 10 we moved on to the Black Bull in Otley for an hour. Lynne sits with Maria deep in conversation whilst John, Dave, Jimmy, Chris, Pete, stand at the bar.
John bought four New Zealand White rabbits for £4 today from a mate at work who was going to drown them! The soft hearted nit! This benevolent act of reprievement will now boost the rabbit population of Tranmere Park and the launching of John in ther career of breeder extraordinaire.
Home with Lynne to Pine Tops at 11.30 for bacon & egg sandwiches with Mum & Dad. The two of us sit until about 3 o'clock and she drives away into the dawn looking tired and shagged out.
Out with Lynne to the Scott's Arms at Sicklinghall which I don't like. Why we have to trail all those miles across Yorkshire for flat beer in an even flatter public house God only knows.
Back in Bramhope we devour fish and chips and go up to Lynne's for coffee. Peter is in bed and we are entertained by Mr & Mrs Mather and by Auntie Bertha, a sizeable Schofield's employee, who fancies Demis Roussos. ________. Mrs Mather is nice and watching Mr M it's easy to see where Peter's mannerisms come from. They all leave Lynne and I to it at 12 o'clock & we have a quiet hour listening to Stevie Wonder. I had a whisky and dry.
Lynne drives me home after 1am. I don't like to think Lynne's driving around at all hours of the morning for my benefit. I only hope she doesn't think I'm using her as a taxi service.
Bastile Day: Marlene and Frank call to see us at 7pm or so and I play in the garden with Mark & Debbie. They leave at 8 and for the remainder of the evening the three of us sit glued to the TV watching the 'Horse of the Year Show' or something. A sun-tanned Princess Margaret was in the royal box taking a few drags on a cigarette before presenting the King George V Cup and the Queen Elizabeth II Cup. At first I thought Lord Snowdon was with her but soon realised it was Lord Linley. Roddy Llewellyn was nowhere in sight.
A (post)card in Lynn's handwriting from Cala Milor, Majorca. They're having a great time.
Retire to bed at midnight after compiling a long letter to Lynne. Mum mentioned her again tonight. I think she's taken a great liking to her.
John and Maria come at 8.30. They like my virtually non-existant sun tan and join Mum, Dad and I in a glass of Bacardi & coke. (No doubt you've gathered I bought some cheap Bacardi in Ibiza). They're having difficulty getting possession of the new house and it seems that Maria has written some vicious letters to people in high places in order to get things moving. Bits of scandal I hear include items as ludicrous as Carole emigrating to New Zealand to become a missionary, and much more.
CB rings this afternoon to tell me she's got the job at Bradford Mothercare, but is doing eight weeks training at Doncaster first. Christine at Mothercare!!!
Dave L has managed to get a job teaching rural studies in Gloucester - Dad heard this today when he visited the Lawson residence in a professional capacity to solve the mystery of Gary's disappearing bicycle. I shall have to ring David shortly.
See 'Bonanza' on TV and retire to bed afterwards.
Bank Holiday in Ireland. Back to work which is like a nightmare after two weeks of luxurious living.
Home at 5.15. The house is horribly quiet without Lynn and Susan. Sit watching the TV with Mum & Dad who say that last week was the first time in 22 years that they've been alone in the house. The silence is broken by Tony who comes in at 8 o'clock with a book for Edith Blackwell. He is acting weird and I think he's pissed until I remember _________________. I have a burst of hysterics when he says he's bought a kite and is going up into the hills tomorrow to fly it. What is the world coming to? I think the lad's gone off his rocker. However, I'd never hold that against him.
Pete & Chris come at 8.30 and Lynne rings to say she's coming at 9 o'clock. Thje lads go when she arrives and we sit for a couple of hours with Mum & Dad drinking Bacardi & coke. Mum seems to have taken a shine to Lynne. They haven't really met before.
4th after Trinity. Home to the United Kingdom of Gt Britain. The plane was delayed for an hour and a half and so we didn't touch down at Manchester until 12.15. Mum and Dad have been waiting for hours and look tired out. We take Pete to Bramhope and he has to lob pebbles at his mother's bedroom window before he can be let in. The rotten sods couldn't even be bothered to wait up for him. Diabolical. A fantastic holiday over. How the hell will I ever settle down?
Our last night on the town in San Antonio. Accompanied by two women from Burnley - Anne and Sandra. Back to the hotel after the Playboy. We have a riotous affair in our room. Joined by seven Spanish maidens who chant rugby songs until after 4am. The couple in the next room were not overjoyed by the serenade. Miserable gits.
A drunken day - again. Go on the 'booze cruise' again and managed to sup more booze than on Friday's excursion. Pam and I had a grope on the homeward journey - much to the envy of a couple of hundred other males on the 'voyage'. She says I'm no older than 18 - quite flattering really.
Cut my foot on a broken glass in El Capone's tonight. Why was I wandering around barefoot? Anyway, a bilingual Dutch dame helped me put my socks on in a dark grotto of the bar.
Home to the hotel at 2.30. Purchase a copy of the Daily Telegraph and spew up everywhere.
Peter didn't propose to Carmina yesterday, but from tonight's conversation he may well be doing it at this very moment.
Out to the bars with Dave G, Glenn and Lucia, Carmina & Monsi - they go home tomorrow morning & we'll never see them again. Sad, because we have become such friends.
Pete & Carmina go off for a quiet walk and I go up in the lift with Lucia. I got out on the second floor and stood watching as she disappeared up to the third. We have exchanged addresses, but nothing could ever be the same again.
Glenn and I open a couple of bottles of wine in my room (40 pesetas each) and we proceeded to get pissed up. Giggling and laughing like a pair of fourteen year-old school girls - but if you can't giggle on holiday, when the Hell can you?
Peter says he's going to propose marriage to Carmina tonight. Otherwise a normal day on the beach improving our tans. David G visits a doctor who tells him to rest up for a few days with his wounds. Goodbye.
Go with Pete, Dave G and Glenn with Carmina and Lucia to the Playboy Club (indoor). We danced a few 'smoochies' but she's frightened to death and shakes like a leaf every time I touch her. Communication is still virtually non-existant and Lucia appears to be bored at times. Peter gets on well with Carmina.
3rd after Trinity. Independence Day, U.S.A. A hot day again - in the eighties anyway.
Go for a trip around San Antonio in a glass bottomed boat - thoroughly bored by it. The ocean bed was the quietest ocean bed I have ever had the misfortune to lay eyes upon and the only conclusion I can draw is that the local marine life also take a siesta at this time of day.
Pete and I go on the beach after lunch and lay in the hot sun improving our tans for a couple of hours.
Out tonight with three Spanish ladies to the El Capone Bar and then to the outdoor Playboy Club until after 2am. Back to the hotel bar and drink until 3. Oh, if only we could understand one another. Cannot adequately describe the frustration of having a failed conversation with a lovely bird with sexy, big eyes.
The boat trip to Cala Bassa proved a fantastic experience. Three men overboard; topless fraulins; & more booze than I've ever seen on a floating vessel before.
I sank one full bottle of champagne and one bottle of white wine. Vomiting over the side at one stage. A wild frolic on Cala Bassa beach. Several maidens were aware of my presence.
Tonight: met a lot of Spanish girls in the hotel and tried to communicate with them. Had quite a laugh. From Catelonia, wherever that is.
Dominion Day, Canada. A fantastic, wet day. The chamber maids got us up at 10.30 or so, and I went down to write a few postcards. Send them all off except ones to Chris & Denise. The weather is cloudy and by 12 it's pissing down. At 12.30, Pete, Dave Glynn (the lad in the next room to ours) and I get a taxi in torrential rain to the harbour where all the Club 18-30 mob are awaiting the arrival of Miss Nottingham and Mr Smarty Pants. The rain gets worse and everyone is soaked through to the skin. We are told that the (boat) trip won't be run today and we're invited back tomorrow at the same time. Walk back to the hotel in the monsoon and take some funny photographs which I can't wait to see.
A typical Ibiza night.
Chris takes Pete and I to Manchester Airport and we arrived at about 2pm. A scorching hot day and the tarmac on the runway is virtually melting. Bid farewell to Chris at 3 o'clock or so and we sit for an hour waiting for the flight. I'm quite nervous about the whole thing.
The flight was fantastic and the views from 30-odd thousand feet were remarkable. Thick cloud on our arrival in Ibiza. It's boody ironic that we've come over a thousand miles from sweltering Britain to a place that's been cloudy and wet for the best part of a week. The hotel Pacific is great, but a sewage works seems to dominate the view from our balcony. However, I can assure you that Ibiza is a fantastic place. Never have I enjoyed a foreign holiday, or indeed a British holiday, so much. Forgive the brief entries over the next few weeks but I'm far too bust to bother writing anythging in detail. However, full services will be resumed as soon as possible.
Scorching hot day. Get up at the unearthly hour of 8.15 and have breakfast with Mum, Dad, Lynn & Sue. I accompany Mum and Dad to Auntie Mabel's at Pudsey and then we drive her to Shipley, where she's staying with a friend until Thursday. The three of us call in at the Commercial afterwards and sit in the coolness of ther lounge until 3pm. Lynn and Dave joined us for the last one. Get slightly pissed actually and this becomes plainly obvious at 3 when Dave and I drive to Morrison's in the spitfire for a bottle on Cinzano to consume on the lawn. One of the rear brake-lights of Dave's car fell off & we drove back from Yeadon with me sipping Cinzano out of the glass brake light cover! Back onto the lawn until 7.30 when Chris comes to take me up to Peter's so I can hand over £80 for the holiday.
We had a drink in the packed Dyneley and then went to the Travellers' Rest on the Harewood Road (surely, Crimple?). Lynne, who also took Peter & Anne, drove into the Harewood House drive and received a slight nod of acknowledgement from the gatekeeper. No doubt he thought she was Princess Anne coming to make amends with her shunned Uncle George.
After much deliberation Lynne, Peter, Anne and I went to the Damn Yankee in Harrogate for a pizza - they were absolutely massive.
Anne seems to have come out of her seclusion somewhat and was very pleasant. Stayed at Peter's until dawn. Lynne drove Anne and myself home and my fond farewells were said. Staggered to bed feeling bloated after my enormous pizza.
Have a half-day and say bye bye to the Yorkshire Post and all its inmates until July 12.
Meet David B at Whitelocks after purchasing a new pair of trousers and a t-shirt in near tropical conditions. I am not one usually over-awed by the heat but the weather this afternoon is just too much to bear. Home at 3.30 and sit on the lawn with Dad listening to Pennine Radio.
Mum makes strawberries and fresh cream for tea which go down a real treat. Ring Lynne at 7.30 to hear her views on how the evening should be spent. To my horror Mrs Mather tells me Lynne is still working and says she'll ask her to ring me back. Working at 7.30pm in this climate! Poor, misguided lady. She rings at 8 o'clock and says she'll drive over for 9.
We go to the Hare & Hounds where we meet Chris, Peter, Anne, Andy and Linda. (Linda nearly killed Andy when she heard of what took place on Wednesday and says _____).
Another sideline to Wednesday evening is that Peter says he'll not touch one drop of alcohol when he's in Ibiza next week. How ridiculous. This will have to be knocked on the head. Move on to the Red Lion at Burley-in-Wharfedale and see John and Maria who come in at 10.30. We all stand outside and have quite a pleasant time really. Lynne wanted to move on to a disco but when she, Peter and Anne got back to our house the whole scheme fell through. Eventually Lynne and I went for a walk around Tranmere and sat drinking coffee at 3.30am. Yes folks, another late night.
Carole rang me at work to wish me a nice holiday and she tells me she is going to live in London and get a job down there within the next few weeks and that I'll never see her again. Both Peter and Chris have seen her and Denise with Chris Denby - so I think poor Carole is just inventing stories about seeking her fortune in London to get on my tits.
John comes at 8.30 and we watch 'Monty Python' for the last time. At 9 the two of us go to the Hare for a quick one and he brings Maria down at 9.15. Mum and Dad come in at 10 o'clock and the five of us have a pleasant family 'piss-up' - excuse the crudeness today, but we all have these moments don't we?
Mum and Maria are getting along like a house on fire. __________________. John was saying that the house is just about ready although they don't want to move in before August. They'll definately be in before baby arrives.
Out to Grassington and then onto the Miners' Arms at Glasshouses (surely, Greenhow?) with Chris, Peter M, and Andy Graham. The latter mentioned is indeed a rare sight in public life these days without the ever watchful Linda Smith lurking somehwhere in the shadows.
Peter got terribly drunk and the so-called highlight of the evening was the return journey when Andy seriously attempted to uproot every sign post between Bolton Abbey and Guiseley. Chris had about ten road signs stacked in the back of his van by 1.30am and I found the whole operation ridiculous and not in the least amusing.____________.
A warm, pleasant day - not that I see all that much of it locked away in the Yorkshire Post offices. However, a smile plays upon my lips when I think where I'll be this time next week.
Get home at 5.15 and devour a long awaited, much needed meal. See the 6 o'clock news on the BBC: the Queen greeting President Giscard d'Estaing at Victoria. Keeping up with the old 'Entente Cordiale' and all that. It's intriguing to know that the president can speak fluent English and we all know that the Queen can speak fluent French, and so in which language did they chat? The president and his wife both descend from Louis XV King of France. If I'm not mistaken, I think the Queen descends from Louis XV's grandfather, who was father of Henrietta Maria, wife of King Charles I. (I shall look into this more closely).
After tea I venture onto the lawn where I am sitting at this very moment compiling this diary. A warm, typical June day - even at 7pm. Heard from Tony today. He's busy all week and doesn't think he can make it until Friday. I won't have any cash before Thursday anyway.
John comes round at 7 o'clock and we drive down to Silverdale and look at his house through the windows as he isn't in possession of the keys yet and besides, it's too late to collect them from the site manager. Things seem to be coming along nicely but he's in no great hurry to move in.
Give Lynne a ring at 9.15 and Mrs Mather enquires: "Oh, is that Stephen?" It is so embarrassing when that happens. The silence lasted for about 20 seconds and then I asked to speak to Peter, but she says he's at Chris's. Lynne was out, of course, with Janet in Harrogate.
Warm but overcast day. Work was uneventful and not particularly strenuous. Hear that poor Dennis Haywood broke his arm when he fell off the quay at Blackpool yesterday. He seemed to be in great pain throughout the evening session in Skipton and now I understand why. Mick Johnson came in to see Carol J and exaggerated greatly his tale of the whole of yesterday's events. After the big build up with promises of alcoholic poisoning one could almost say it was something of an anti-climax. Enjoyable though.
A quiet evening at home. Watch a film at 9.20 on BBC1 entitled 'The Landlord' which is amusing. Certain aspects of American humour can be hilarious - espeially the female comics.
Retire to bed at 11.30 and read 'Princess Margaret anbd her family' which seems daft in the light of the events of three months ago. One picture in the book shows HRH at a house party in the autumn of 1973 where one of the male members in the group is named as 'Roddy Llewellyn, former Olympic showjumper'. The author is obviously confusing the young lad with his father, Colonel Harry Llewelyn. Apparently, this occasion was the first meeting of the princess and her young beau.
1st after Trinity. Evening Post Father's Day trip to Blackpool. Need I go into the details? Spent most of the day with Peter Lazenby, both wearing bowler hats. In fact, Peter's was a top hat and the label inside read: "By Royal Appointment to HRH The Duchess of Connaught." She died in 1916-18 or thereabouts which makes the hat virtually Victorian.
Everyone attempted to get pissed, but it wasn't half as bad (or good, which ever way you look at it) as people told me it would be. Poor Denis Haywood fell off a jetty and injured his arm but otherwise we had no casualties. Home at 12.15 still wearing my bowler (hat) after sitting in the Albion pub in Skipton from 7.30. A good day indeed. Father's Day too.
(HRH The Duchess of Connaught died March 14, 1917, aged 56 years - MLR).
Mum & Dad's 22nd wedding anniversary. The occasion was somewhat marred by the fact that poor Dad was late home because of the National Front demo in Bradford this afternoon. He gets in at 8 o'clock and they both go out for a quiet drink. Lynn, Sue and I bought them a silver plated tea pot, milk jug and sugar bowl, &c.
Tony and Carol J come in at 9 o'clock and he tells Mum it was I who was violently sick on Thursday night. We all laugh at th cover-up and then we go up to the Cow & Calf pub for a drink, with Lynne. A nice evening, and we sat in the floodlit gardens at Oakwood Hall and devoured pizza. They (the pizzas) are much nicer than the Damn Yankee creations & even better than the supposed brilliant objects served at the Flying Pizza. Peter and Anne arrive at Oakwood at midnight or so but we don't see much of them. Lynne and I dance quite a bit ___________________.
Home at 1.30 or thereabouts to find some sort of wedding anniversary party going on. This orgy of hysterics falls though at 2am and Lynne and I have the lounge to ourselves until the unearthly hour of 4am. Please understand one thing. Lynne and I are not serious. After the traumatic events of the last couple of months I am in no mood for a lengthy, strenuous affair.
Anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. For the first time in three years I didn't send June Bottomley the traditional safety pin. Now that she's engaged I don't think it right for me - an ex lover - to keep up a correspondence of any kind with her.
Horrible drunken night at Oakwood Hall with Tony. Went to Ilkley to see Stuart first and he comes with us to the Rose & Crown for a quick three pints. He just got out of hospital this morning. He has an absess on one of his tits. In fact, when stood sideways, he looks very much like Raquel Welch. He (Stuart) departed for home at 9.30 and Tony and I continued to Oakwood Hall where I succumbed to the evils of cider. Home at 1am. I was blind drunk and on inviting Tony in for a coffee I was violently sick. Mum was awakened and when she questioned me about it after Tony had gone I said it was HE who'd been sick.
Take a half day. Meet Marita and Denise in Leeds at 12.30 and go to Parker's (Wine Bar). Have a Scotch egg which cost me 35p and a pint of lager. Thirty-five pence for a solitary boiled egg wrapped in sausage meat! Poor Marita is compelled to return to work at 1.30 & Miss Akroyd and myself purchased a bottle of wine and sat for another hour or so. Marilyn (Wheeler) was in with a woman I presumed to be her mother and I could see her looking at Denise. No doubt she'll be reporting to Mrs Johnson tonight.
Denise and I chat about very little really. Feel bored and tired. She says she is taking her mother to the Canary Islands on July 11, and not going away with Carole after all. Plans were well underway, but Miss Phillips rang her yesterday to say she couldn't get the same holiday dates as Denise after all. They're off to the Edwardian Club to a 21st (birthday party) on Friday night. I nearly vomit at the mention of the place. What is more, Carole's told Denise that it's a 'classy' discotheque! Get home at 5.30 and eat a hearty meal. Blimey, I forgot to mention that after we left Parker's we ventured into the city museum and art gallery for a couple of hours. Cultured buggers, we are.
Chris rings at 6.30 to see if I'm going out and I say yes. Lynne isn't out but I'll ring her tomorrow to see if she can fit me in on Saturday. Write her a letter and go put it in her hands when Chris and I go collect Pete. Go to the Scott's Arms and the Three Legs at Wetherby. Chris tells me he is madly in love with Denise and would do anything for her - even marriage! God Almighty! It's just like been seventeen all over again!
Get home tonight feeling whacked. No doubt I'll be in a state of great exhaustion by the time the holiday comes around. I can't make up my mind about Lynne. She's certainly attractive and I know from the last time (Oct-Nov '74) that we get along nicely, but __________________. I also think Peter objects to Lynne being part of the 'happy family'. However, if I do go out with Lynne again I don't want her to be in the same room as Carole & Co. That was the trouble last time. Too many people dictated what we were going to do and where we where going to do it. I think she's fabulous and incredibly sexy. __________. Our temperaments are so similar. Go on, I know what you're thinking: "What in God's name are you doing here, Michael, when a girl like that is wandering around Bramhope in an unattached condition?"
( A squashed green fly).
David L 21. Go into the office at 9.30am. Mr Lawson came of age today. Poor David appears to be in a bad way actually. What with the duodenal ulcer and the failure to get a teaching position I cannot imagine him having a wild, revelrous (sic) birthday at all. To be compelled to passing a sober 21st birthday doesn't bear thinking on. MM and Marita are of course going down (to Worcester) at the weekend and I did intend to join them until I discovered that it clashed with the YP Father's Day trip to Blackpool & my name has been on the list for some considerable time. David can easily take offence that I fear he will cut off diplomatic relations when he learns I won't be able to make it to Worcester - my last chance to visit before he finishes for good at the beginning of next month.
Go to Rawdon at 8pm at get a lift to the Dyneley with Marita - it's Lynne's 19th birthday celebrations. Denise, Chris, Pete, Lynne (looking ravishing) arrive at the Dyneley and after one drink we go to the Scott's Arms (at Sicklinghall) again. Lynne and I went with Marita. Fail to get into the right spirit and behave in a sombre fashion all night - even at Denise's where we go afterwards for coffee. I tell Lynne I'll ring her in the week when I'm more wealthy. She tells me about her situation when her Mum & Dad move to Thornton-le-Dale. She'll stay with an aunt in Leeds until Christmas and then consider her position more carefully.
Trinity Sunday. Lynne is nineteen today and last night I gave Pete a card to pass on to her. It is a birthday card designed for a 90 year-old but the picture on the front is so pretty I didn't think she'd notice the slightly exaggerated number.
A beautifully hot day. Sit out on the lawn until 3.30 and then wash my hair in order to make myself presentable for tonight's laborious stint at the YP. Leave for Leeds at 4pm looking something like a cross between a lobster and a beetroot. Sat in the sunshine in Guiseley for 45 minutes waiting for the bus - and when it arrived it was packed to the very brim. (Do buses have brims? Discuss). Worked until 10.30. Bored to tears. Absolutely nothing to report in the news and I fail to see why I should continue filling in this page with the usual clipped, badly punctuated trivia. However, this diary isn't here to make me happy. It's here for your benefit. What is boring and dull to me now maybe of great historical importance in 80 or 90 years time. In fact, by the time Lynne's birthday card is applicable this diary may well be selling as a rare manuscript at Sotheby's for £70,000.
A day upon which I should truly be ashamed of myself. It's the official birthday of Her Majesty the Queen and subsequently Trooping the Colour in London and I am not there to lend my support. In 1972, 73, 74 and 75 I have always made a point of attending, and indeed it became something of a ritual, but what with the up and coming holiday, lack of funds and lack of a suitable escort, I decided to give it a miss this year. I climbed out of bed at 10.15 to view the spectacle on television. The weather in London looks perfect and I sit long-faced staring at the TV regretting my decision to stay at home. Please do not take this break in tradition as a decline in my loyalty to the Throne. My feelings on this subject have changed in no way and I need elaborate no more on them, because you, dear reader, are very well aware of my royalist leanings.
Lynn and I go into Otley this afternoon and give the shops a good going over. At 5.30 I attempt to take her for a drink at the Black Bull but to our horror discover the pub isn't open! Home on the bus cursing the English licensing laws.
Peter M and I go out for a drink this evening. Start in the tap room of the Menston Arms, then the Malt Shovel and get to the Hare & Hounds for 10 o'clock. John and Maria are there having a drink and we have a good chat. Chris comes shortly afterwards and the three of us go to Oakwood Hall where Carole and Denise can be seen. At one stage it became so hot inside that we piled out at the back and onto the lawns. Carole had minor hysterics at one point but I ignored them. I do not like being cooped up with her is discos & don't intend being so gullable in future.