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Wednesday August 9, 1978

Ventured to the YP today. They were all surprised to see me. Saw Eileen for the first time since July 6. I was surprised, nay stunned, to see Kathleen in cheery mood and not glum and mourning the loss of the Holy Father. I thought that devout Roman Catholics would be grovelling and wailing and wearing the deepest black? Evidently not. Ladbroke's have shocked some MPs by taking bets on Pope Paul VI's successor. It's going to be Cardinal Benelli, or some geezer who answers to Pignatoli. Benelli was, until last year, Pope Paul's right~hand man and closest playmate who carries a lot of weight. I tell David L to put five bob each way on Benelli. All we can do now is hope and pray.

Had a quickie with Jacq at the Oslters at lunch.

This evening David L came up at 7:15 with the tattered remnants of my trousers, my camera, "flush" cubes, records and belt. We went to collect Christine at Horsforth and came back to Yeadon and met Jacq at the cinema at 7:30. We went to see 'Star Wars' which has been on since Christmas. Both Dave and Jacq have seen it before. Christine and I did a good deal of laughing. Acclaimed as a very good film, it isn't really for me. For a start it isn't adapted from a book by F. Scott Fitzgerald. It cannot compete with 'The Great Gatsby' or 'The Last Tycoon'.

Afterwards we had pancake rolls and chips from the Chinese take~away in Yeadon and deposited the ladies at Horsforth and Leeds respectively. Dave mentions he's going to visit Maria at Molly's on Friday.

To bed with Lady Chatterley at 12:38 am.

-=-

Tuesday August 8, 1978

More bloody rain. My God what a revolting summer it's been.

Up at 9:30. Fish and chips for lunch with Mum & Dad. Mum heard from Auntie Mabel that Uncle Jack (Myers) now has only weeks to live. I'm so sorry for cousin Jackie.

Tonight: Too knackered to go to Lawn Road. Instead I sat with DH Lawrence reading of Constance Chatterley and her lover.
The book's been missing for years and only on rummaging in the back of a cupboard did I manage to lay hold of it again. Read 60 pages in fact. Why they made such a fuss about it back in the deepest, darkest, pagan 60's God only knows. I thought the 1960s were supposed to be permissive? I've read more explicit stuff in 'Look and Learn'.

-=-

Monday August 7, 1978

Bank Holiday {Scotland}

Very wet, revolting day. Lounged in bed until 11 and then had a bacon and egg sandwich and cup of tea. My rear feels slightly more painful today. Had a hot bath.

Uncle Peter dropped in at lunchtime for a sandwich. At 2 Dad drove me to Otley Hospital. A fat, old doctor with half~moon spectacles took a brief look at my buttocks and told me to come back on Monday next week to have the stitches removed.

Home for 3. Watched the end of a 1940 Jack Benny film and did a little reading. To be quite honest, I'm bored silly just lounging around the house. Jacq phoned to enquire about the state of my bottom.

At 7:30 Delia and Sarah came to see Lynn and Mum about the flowers for the wedding. Sarah thinks I look unwell. She suggests I get a doctor's note and have the rest of the week off. I decide to take tomorrow off, but go back on Wednesday.

Wedding fever is now gripping Pine Tops. Mum and Lynn spent the night chatting about flowers, cakes, cards, and booze. Saw a far~fetched Roger Moore film and retired to bed at 11:30.

-=-

Sunday August 6, 1978

11th after Trinity

Got out of bed at 10:30 feeling quite fit and unaffected by my traumatic experience. I phoned David L to apologise for leaving half my blood in his abode and he says it looks like a massacre has taken place on Tennyson Street. He laughed a good deal.

My chief problem is sitting down. Armchairs are impossible. I remedy this by laying flat on the floor. Mum and Dad think my predicament is hilarious. Mum inspected the stitches. Dad, Lynn and Dave went to Lawn Road leaving Sue, Mum, Jacq and "Scar Arse" to prepare dinner. Susan was alone and Peter made no appearance. ______________.

On the news we hear that the Pope died tonight. Princess Michael of Kent must have been secretly over to Rome and slipped some John West salmon into the Vatican kitchen.

-=-

Saturday August 5, 1978

Sun rises 05:30 Sun sets 20:43

First Day of Ramadan {tabular}

A full day at Burley painting the bathroom. It now resembles a peppermint cream because it's chocolate and lime. Dad and Dave put up beams in the lounge and Henry Baker fixed the sink, &c.

Home at 6:30 and an hour later, clad in white trousers, Philippe Junot~styled sandals, I was waiting at the Station Hotel for Jacq. She arrived ~ a vision of loveliness ~at 7:45 and we messed around for half an hour waiting for a bus to take us to the Fox & Hounds. From the start of the evening we were 'dogged' by accidents of one kind or another. On the way to meet Jacq I was seriously 'pawed' by an Alsatian dog who muddied my trousers. On our arrival at the Fox Jacq went to the ladies (toilet) taking with her my camera and flash cubes in her handbag and when she emerged minutes later she was screaming with laughter and bearing in her hands a conglomeration of wet photographic equipment ~ Yes, it had all accidentally fallen down the bog! Luckily all seemed to be working after we had shaken off the water.

Jacq and I were drinking Stella Artois and we became quite merry. David L joined us and Sue, Dave B, Lynn, John, Maria, Sarah C, John Mac, Christine D and Graham A, &c. Susan had had some sort of fall out with Peter about coming to the Fox and he had gone off somewhere with Chippy. He eventually followed her to the party (David L's) but she had nothing to do with him for the rest of the night. Jacq and I went with Sarah and John and he insisted on having fish and chips first which set us back a bit.

My recollections of the night are dim and mixed. Janet Rootes (Roots?) arrived with Mick Orchard and his wife and we laughed a good deal about old times. She talked about June B but I cannot remember exactly what was discussed. Tony, Martyn and Chris R were there.

A nasty accident occurred. I sat on a glass. A sherry glass to be precise. It gave me a deep cut at the top of my buttocks, and I bled profusely for over an hour. My white trousers were ruined. People filed solemnly through the bedroom to inspect the damage, and it soon became clear that I'd require stitches. So, at 5am Dave B drove me to Otley Hospital where I was given three stitches. The nurses were in hysterics at the sight of my holed and bloody underpants. I looked like the victim of an attempted assassination. We arrived home after 7. Lynn and Jacq were waiting patiently.

-=-

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 ...