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Friday March 24, 1978

Full Moon 17:20 Good Friday Bank Holiday (Scotland)

Sorry about the murky ink. It's the alcohol level in my fingers that's created a chemical reaction on contact with the pen.

The morning was actually sunny and warm ~ ideal in fact for dashing out and hurtling oneself under canvas for a few days, hey?

Mum and Dad went down to Burley in Wharfedale armed with champagne to see Lynn and Dave who started work on their new house at Lawn Road this morning. I was left to my own devices until Sue and Pete collected me at 12:30. The boozing started at the Station Hotel where we were joined by Chippy (Gerald Ash), Gus (Adrian Ramsden) and Johnny (Brian Johnson). From here at 2pm we departed for Hawes. (Oh yes, I phoned Christine to see if she fancied coming to Hawes tomorrow with Dave L, saying we'll be at the Fountain pub).

The afternoon was sunny and cold and we spent most of the time erecting the damnable tent. The whole spectacle took on the form of a circus act and much screaming and clowning was indulged in. I especially like Brian, or Johnny as he is known, who is at Trinity and All Saints College training to teach maths. He is an old flame of Lynn's  ~ when they were in their early teens. Once the tent was up we made a revolting evening meal and then found solace in the Fountain. Much ale merriment and debauchery took place. In fact, we sounded like French Revolution peasants after four or five rounds. I really admire Susan for her fortitude and capability to 'muck in'  with a crowd of young men. Not many young ladies could do this. Lynn for one, is not the type to go off in a tent with five young men for Easter.


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Thursday March 23, 1978

Maundy Thursday.

Mama and Papa had a Maundy Thursday wine party for the Nasons and Edith & Ernest. I was subdued for some reason. Mama pointed this out to me. I cannot be forever hurtling around like a circus act but today I do feel uncommunicative, quick tempered and morose. Sorry. The wine flowed nicely but I stuck to ale for a change. I did not want a crashing hangover for tomorrow's expedition up the Wharfedale valley. David L phoned to see what I was up to and he said he was going to call in tomorrow with a rabbit for Mama as an Easter gift. An Easter Bunny as it were. He was very cheerful & it was great to hear him.

Princess Margaret: 'parasite'.
I heard from Christine today and she was sad at the thought of my absence over the festive season. I told her I would phone tomorrow with my holiday itinerary. If it hails and pisses down tomorrow one place where I will not be closeted over Easter is in a tent, waterproof or otherwise.

Mr Prefab Mobile-Home, MP, today referred to Princess Margaret as a 'parasite' in the House of Commons. The acting Speaker asked him to withdraw the insult and the offensive communist swine did so. These terrible men really should be suspended from sittings following disgraceful episodes of this kind. The poor princess cannot even answer her critics and must go on, undaunted, with her public duties with the brilliance and expertise for which she is renowned throughout the entire civilized world.

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Wednesday March 22, 1978

I am sick and tired of the media's cruel, extremely rude and misinformed treatment of Princess Margaret. Two years ago it started in the 'Sunday People' and now the drivel is being expounded by the BBC. Tonight was no exception. I sat and seethed in my chair. Her private affairs are being debated in the Commons tomorrow at the instigation of that lefty, Commie bastard with the silly name like a mobile home or 'prefab', Mr Canavan. It is a pity that in times of ruination and national collapse we have taken to trying to destroy just about the only positive product left ~ the monarchy. However, they've been insulted before and have lived to tell the tale with the exception of King Charles I. So I'll just keep my fingers crossed.

To come back down to earth: it was pay day because of Easter looming up. Isn't it funny that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ should determine on which day I collect my £30?

A letter from David L reminding me of his return home at the weekend. Oh, no. I'm off camping and so I won't see the lad until next week sometime. I shall have to phone him and make amends.I feel terrible about the way I shunned poor David for most of last year _________________.

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Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...