Once again 'tis pay day for your humble narrator. Today, just in case you are interested, is the birthday of Adolf Hitler. He was born in 1889 and so you can work out for yourself just which birthday he is celebrating quietly in his Rio flat.
Jacq and I had a drink at the Ostlers at 12:45. Pleasant conversation flowed, as did the 2 pints of lager. I pulled her leg about her Cockney accent. Her interpretation of 'light ale' is a killer.
I prepared for my expedition to the southern counties. At 5 I went to John and Maria's but finding the house locked and shuttered I was compelled to go to the mill to dig him out of the sawdust.He took me back to Silverdale where I borrowed his grey suit (in fact it was originally my suit - see the end of 1975 for the purchase of this grotty, sack-like object).
Saw Carole and (Peter) Fogarty but nothing much was said. Carole, however, did colour up when our eyes met. I don't think I registered any emotion. Back home I thrust everything into my ruck-sack and all was ready.
Tonight, being Thursday, we were bombarded by Jim and Margaret Nason and the intrepid Edith and Ernest. _________. Afterwards Sue, Pete and I had a prawn curry with chips.
To bed at 1:0am.
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Wednesday May 9, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...
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