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Sunday November 12, 1978

25th Sunday after Trinity

7th Sunday before Christmas

Remembrance Sunday

Slept until 10:30 and then devoured breakfast. Switched on the telly to watch the Queen at the Cenotaph at 11am. Pete Sate arrived at the start of the two minutes silence so in fact we had two minutes of noise and chaos to commemorate the dead of two world wars.

Derek had me washing his Lotus (which I did willingly). I wouldn't wash any old car you know.

At 12 Jacq, Pete S and I wandered down to the real Northwood hostelry where we had a few before the 2pm curfew. Pete is 21 and recounting his adventures he makes my life sound positively 'monk~like'.

Sunday lunch was heavily punctuated with political argument. At one point Derek put it to me that I might be a socialist. I told him I am more Tory than the most far~right Tory which puzzled him. He couldn't grasp my argument. He is a stubborn man and in discussion he won't be moved by anything anybody else has to say. He and Pete squabbled about work too. _______.

Pete drove us to Victoria at 5 and we only just made it for six o'clock. The bus carrying Christine and Mrs B was pulling out of the station. I did my spectacular 'dead man lying on the floor' routine in front of the offending and already departing vehicle, to halt it's progress. But all was in vain. A bus carrying only 15 or 20 people eventually left and Jacq and I grabbed the whole of the back seat for ourselves. Uncomfortable and cold journey. Saw the hideous and ridiculous 'green beam' lighting up Oxford Street as part of the Christmas lights.

Home to a cold, wintry Leeds at just before 11. Jim and Margaret Nason are at home. Bed at 1:30.


Saturday November 11, 1978

Sun rises 07:11 Sun sets 16:18

Up at 7:30 and breakfast on eggs and bacon and things. I have a bedroom with my own little sink (or wash basin). Just like staying at Chequers or the Royal Lodge, Windsor. Unfortunately, no headed note paper in the bedroom.

At 9:30 or 10 we were in the heart of London. Derek and Carol went off to the Mansion House to see Sir Kenneth Cork set out in his gilt coach, while Jacq and I found our way to St Paul's where we had seats in the stand at the rear of the cathedral & opposite the BBC cameras. All very exciting. The procession came by us at about 11:30 and it went on for an hour. We didn't have a good view of the Lord Mayor because he was waving to the crowds out of the far side of his carriage when he past us. Just a glimpse of his arse~clad red robes. A cold, foggy day.

After endless floats and marching bands Jacq and I pushed our way through the crowds to the Cockpit pub in the shadow of St Paul's. From here we wandered into Fleet Street and into the Old Cheshire Cheese, which was re~built in 1667! Saw dust on the floors and old war veterans propping up the bar. Quite pissed by 3pm. Joined Derek and Carol who were lingering in the Lotus by the Thames. Back to Northwood where we all collapsed, some of us snoring like pigs.

Tonight we went to Harefield for dinner ~ The Old Oak Tree, or something. Food was good but the cabaret diabolical. Derek was hilarious and had us in stitches throughout. Carol had sole and she poked and prodded at it.

Back to Northwood at 12:30 where we had a few drinks and a xylophone session. Sang 'Red Sails in the Sunset' and other old favourites, &c. Laughed a good deal.