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Sunday March 5, 1978

 4th Sunday in Lent
Mid Lent
Mothering Sunday

Got a bus from the Bod pub to the bus station and then hitched a lift down Canal Road and was picked up by a Pakistani gentleman. Never again will I criticise our marvellous immigrant population. Bless them all. At the Shoulder of Mutton I got the first bus of the morning and sat with a couple of gin swilling prostitutes, who had obviously had a night similar to mine.

On Hawksworth Lane dearest Edith thought I was up and out for an early morning walk and was stunned to hear I was on my way home. She gave me hot tea and befriended me until they awoke at home.

Had breakfast with Mum at 9:30. Gave her a plant for Mothering Sunday. They all thought I was insane.

Alison, John, Lynn, Sue, Pete & Dave.
At eleven we all ~ Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Alison and John P and me ~ went to the seaside taking in Whitby, Robin Hood's Bay and Scarborough. I was tired but managed to stay active.  I really like Alison and John. Coming home we called at the Royal at Boston Spa for a few drinks. I spent the day snapping away with the camera. The sun shone brightly.

at Scarborough.


Saturday March 4, 1978

Sun rises 06:40 Sun sets 17:46

Michelle's party at Shelf, near Halifax. At 8, Peter N took Sue, John, Maria and me to the Fleece. _________. I wore my new 31 inch jeans and boots. John said I look like a cowboy. Pete M finds my mode of dress amusing, but _______________.

At about 9pm we went to Shelf and the pub The Prince of Orange. I became quite pissed and suffered from hiccoughs on a phenomenal scale. A young lady called, I think, Darryl, befriended me, but she was in a worse state than I was. Michelle looked delectable but no way is she going out with Chris. They barely spoke to each other and she seemed to flit about with every other male at the party. At the party Darryl passed out in the dining room and was carried off to bed. I didn't lay eyes on her again. Shame. John Grady rolled up quite late. He seemed quite miserable. _______________. Steve and Charlie poured after shave lotion all over my head, but it was happy and boisterous. I like Steve because he's so consistent.

The party went far into Sunday morning. Sue, Pete, John, and Maria went off home after attempting to persuade me to join them. I was enjoying myself too much to go. We gave the record player some hammer until dawn. Sadly, as is often the case, people fell asleep, and by 4 or 5am I was bored and lonely. Telling Steve I was leaving I set out on foot down the road towards Bradford.

Friday March 3, 1978

Christine and I were supposed to have a mad evening fling at Oakwood Hall but I'm told Philip H is taking her out instead.  I phoned CB at 2 and we were both miserable about our humourless, forthcoming weekend, but it can't be helped. Instead, we may go next Thursday.

At lunchtime Eileen and I went to the Ostlers for a quick one. She doesn't touch alcohol now that she's on a crash diet, but nobody deters me from my pint of lager. Eileen is having a 21st birthday party on May 28, and so it's going to be a proper battle in the library to get the day off on May 29.

To the alcoholic refreshment this evening.  My friends do not inspire me one bit. ________________.

Mustique: Princess Margaret and Lady Lichfield.
Have I mentioned Princess Margaret and Roddy Llewellyn recently? The royal couple are scorching themselves on the island of Mustique, no doubt discussing plans for the future. The princess at the Earl of Snowdon have been separated for 2 years this month and can be divorced forthwith. The camera-mad earl is enraptured with Lucy Lindsay-Hogg, his assistant, and some newspapers say they want to settle down. Things however are very different for Margaret. If she wished to marry Roddy then a constitutional crisis could easily occur. The Queen's consent is required and I'm sure Dr Cobweb, the Archbishop of Canterbury, won't like it. Once again, my sympathy goes out to the poor sovereign lady to whom we all look for guidance.


Thursday March 2, 1978

Moon's last quarter 08.34

Something of a chaotic day. At 2:30 I took my library books back and then went to see Carole. She is having horrid tests in the morning but seems quite happy and in good spirits. A nurse from Ward 26, who befriended Carole when she was hospitalised before Christmas, thinks I've been away on a winter holiday. Two minutes of sun-ray treatment and I'm bronzed and rippling all over. Afterwards, at about 3, Carole saw me to the door in her carpet slippers. ___________.

Mrs Troubridge: RC divorcee.
The EP have a story that Prince Michael of Kent and Marie-Christine Troubridge have visited the Archbishop of Canterbury recently no doubt to discuss the royal marriage question. Mrs Troubridge is a Roman Catholic divorcee and so you can imagine the mutterings that are going on in the corridors of Buckingham Palace. Our poor, desolate, over worked sovereign must surely be at her wits end over cousin Michael's papist diversion. However, they should allow the boy to do the decent, honest thing.

This evening the only diversion was a slide show and wine party, with Ernest giving a talk on Wharfedale. The Blackwells came at 8 and the Nasons at 9. Dave was here as 'odd job' man. The films were over by 10:30 followed by a booze up and a typical Rhodes political discussion took place. I was attacked when I said cigarettes and drink are no less drugs than LSD. The furore resembled the evacuation of Dunkirk. Ern offers to teach me Greek, German or Italian. Edith was very drunk and quite rude, especially to Mum. They left at 2-ish and I cleared everything up and returned the lounge to it's former glory. I'm in bed at 3:00am.