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Wednesday August 23, 1978

To Lawn Road again. Far too busy painting to sit here with my pen.

A general election is almost on the cards now for October 5, and not October 12. The latter date is too close to Yom Kippur, the day of Atonement, and Jim (Callaghan) wants all the Jewish votes he can lay his hands on. Also, Jeremy Thorpe's day in court has been postponed until the second week in October so that it won't interfere with polling.

Let us hope and pray that Margaret Hilda will be spending her 53rd birthday in number 10, Downing Street. (That will be October 13). Oh, I'm on tip~toe with excitement.


Tuesday August 22, 1978

Sunny and pleasant. Uncle Jack (Myers) was laid to rest this morning. Hilda, Mabel and Peter represented the entire Wilson Alliance.

Sarah was in great shape today. The doctor listened to her heart yesterday and told her she's suffering from neuralgia. Blimey, I thought you could only get that in your bloody face! This afternoon she actually told me that she fancied me ~ in those exact words. It came when I asked her why she always insists on grabbing hold of me. She replied: "Because I fancy you. That's why". Really funny it was. I don't think she's made such a statement in all the years of our association.

Christine phoned. Her Canadian professional ice~hockey playmate earns £100,000 a year, she says. Good God!

News: President Kenyatta died today in Mombassa. He was a bloody Mau Mau terrorist _______.

Down to Lawn Road with just Daddy to daub buttermilk paint everywhere until the tin ran dry. Home at 10:20. Went for a bath at 12:03.

Auntie Mabel had phoned Mama with a report on the funeral. __________________.


Monday August 21, 1978

Mrs Christine Newton, Princess Margaret and the Hon Gerald Lascelles are leaping around in their carpet slippers today tearing open birthday cards & presents, and devouring large chunks of iced fruit cake. I haven't laid eyes on Mrs Newton since the day of her marriage in August last year. She may be dead. She may be expecting a multiple birth to fill the bedrooms of her pleasant semi-detached property.

Sarah was taken ill at the YP with pains in her chest (again). She looked awfully pale. At 10 we kicked her off home. She told me that my letter to Delia from Nunwoman, Leaper and Nunwoman Solicitors had Barbara Wheeler wetting herself yesterday.

Met Jacq for lunch at the Ostlers for a few pints and cheeseburgers. The friendly, neolithic bar~tender, who is deaf as a post, always brings the wrong food and drink. Jacq, for instance, had a brandy and Babycham followed by a Gin Fizz ~ and we only ordered lager.

Tonight: with Dad, Dave and Lynn to Lawn Road. I made a start 'emulsioning' the lounge. Worked until 10:30.

John called to see Mama tonight. He moves to Stranraer in two weeks and starts his new job on September 11.


Sunday August 20, 1978

13th after Trinity

Back with Dad to Lawn Road. Didn't arrange to see Jacqueline Mary and passed a quiet evening at Pine Tops (Merde alors. How boring).

Ode to Pope Paul VI

For Fifteen years you've been the Pope,
I'm afraid for me there is no hope,
For Catholicism isn't my lot,
And religious life is not too hot,
With unmarried priests and posh old churches,
I'd sooner join the parrots on their perches.

However, you died the other week,
and as for me, so to speak,
you're dead, gone and forgotten,
But in a few years time with a bit of luck,
Some nice little Catholic will write a book.

E. Jarvis Thribb


Saturday August 19, 1978

Sun rises 05:52

Sun sets 20:16

Hanging wallpaper at Lawn Road all day. The place now resembles Longleat.

Jacq and I met this evening and we tanked down the road to the Wren (?)for a couple of drinks. At about 7:30 we went over to the Tower Cinema to see Lord Olivier and Katherine Ross in 'The Betsy'. I enjoyed it. Jacq made her usual comment ~ 'crap'. It just wasn't her sort of film. I left her at the Y.W.C.A at 11 and got a bus home.


Friday August 18, 1978

Full Moon 11:14

Helped Mum with her shopping this morning which was a rare occurrence. In the afternoon I compiled a letter to Delia (in the guise of my solicitor Nunwoman, Leaper & Nunwoman).

Worked this evening at the YP. At 10 I joined Jacq at the Central for half an hour or so. The people in that pub are incredibly revolting and gruesome. Dregs of the earth would be putting it mildly.

Tonight my taxi driver seemed to be very well educated. No, he didn't insist that he's the world's leading authority on snakes, and no, he hadn't witnessed Mau Mau atrocities in Kenya. He made some intelligent remarks about microfilm and the Leeds Intelligencer which surprised me. They really ought to give inquisitive people like him an outlet for their energies in some sort of polytechnic. Doing essays on 'Taxis through the Ages'. How about 'The Influence of the Cab Driver on Charles Darwin and his subsequent theory of relativity'? Or, 'In what way did the gun~boat policy of Lord Palmerston affect the taxi fares in Leeds after 1861'? Or ....... Louise XVI's Flight to Varenne: Would it have succeeded with Telecabs? Discuss.


Thursday August 17, 1978

Wedding fever is taking it's toll on Mama more than most. This morning with Dad and I at breakfast a very violent discussion took place. ______________________________.

To Otley Hospital at 10 with Dad. He disagreed with Mum's opinion, and was quiet and subdued in the car. I was discharged from the hospital and sent packing with a bundle of anti~septic dressings.

A bright, sunny morning. I arrived at the YP at 11:15. Sarah was in a more endearing mood. She says she and 'Auntie' are coming to see us this evening.

I gave Lynn £15 for a wedding present and went with Dad and Dave to Lawn Road. The place looks more like a home than a building site now, and within a week the place will be ready for habitation. Back home at 9:45. Sarah and Delia didn't appear but 'old faithfuls' Jim and Margaret were knocking back beer and munching on peanuts. We watched 'I, Claudius' on the BBC and sat around until 1am. __________________.


Wednesday August 16, 1978

Dave had kipped down on my bedroom floor and so he took me into Leeds with him at 8:30 this morning. He looked very pale after last night's booze. He told me he's sick to death of Thomson, Spencer & Partners, and is completely at a loose end. Poor sod ~ he does get very low at times. He even said, as we sped along, how he can understand why people take to drugs.

Sarah wasn't in a much better mood today. ___________. She could have me any time she wished, but she never really knows just who or what she really wants.

Tonight Dad, Jim and I continued the renovation of 7 Lawn Road. It is very good of Jim to lend his services. He kept asking for jobs to do and I was ordering him about. Jim looks and acts like an old retainer. The sight of him doffing his cap to a passing squire wouldn't be out of place at all. He also resembles King Henry VIII's ill~fated chancellor, Thomas Cromwell. A nice guy though.

At 10:30 Dad and I went to the fish and chip shop and bought a large selection of fried foods for the unsuspecting people at home.

Laurence Olivier and Felix Aylmer are on TV in a 1943 drama. A good piece of British war~time propaganda. To bed too tired even for Lady Chatterley's demands upon me.


Tuesday August 15, 1978

A humid, thundery day. The morning papers have photographs of Princess Anne and Peter Phillips spread thickly about, on this HRH's 28th birthday. It is a disgrace that Her Majesty's grandson is of no higher rank than a British Railways ticket collector or lowly road sweeper. Even the cleaning lady with 50 years' service at Montague Burton's and awarded the B.E.M is of greater rank. Poor little chap. However, it is a sign of the times I do suppose.

Sarah was in a strange mood today. I saw her laughing and squealing in the company of John Mac. God knows what became of this so-called estrangement.

Met Jacq at lunchtime and we had a couple of drinks at the Ostlers. She gave me some Royal Albert china for mother. I told her I'm working on Friday night. At least we'll have a cheap weekend. On Saturday we plan to see Lord Olivier in 'The Betsy' a film from the Harold Robbins book of the same name. I read the book about six years ago. Sir Laurence plays his first movie sex scenes with 'Roxanne' the French maid. Whatever next?

Tonight I went with Jim Nason to Lawn Road and bashed around on the staircase for a couple of hours. Lynn, Dave, Mum and Dad went to the Cow & Calf Hotel to sort out the wedding reception and Jim and I met them at the Red Lion for a couple of drinks at 10:15. Lynn was slightly pissed and went straight up to bed on her arrival home.

Wedding fever is choking us all. I'm sure Lynn's sickness this evening was just as just excitement as alcohol. A man in a Jag followed her at walking pace down the lane this morning with eyes and everything else bulging, heavy breathing, &c. The pervert obviously needs his extremities hacking off.