Showing posts with label auntie hilda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label auntie hilda. Show all posts

20170302

Wednesday April 4, 1979

_. The party with John and Sheila continued today. Home from the YP and a few hours later they arrived once again with Valerie and Graham. Auntie Hilda arrived at 9 and Uncle Tony followed on at 11 with his Liberal agent, who was clad from head to foot in red corduroy ~ just the sort of clothes you'd expect to see a Liberal agent wearing. Oh, and why do people who meddle in local politics always wear suede shoes?

It was good to see Tony again. He looked pale and tired but this probably due to a combination of the coming election and the death of his mother. John and Tony made a good conversational combination, and Hilda was nice. It was an excellent pre-birthday party. They all sang "Happy Birthday" to me at midnight. We discussed politics. John laughed until he cried as I explained my reasons for preferring to live under the yoke of a right-wing dictatorship to a left-wing dictatorship.

Hilda made the statement that I am a "confirmed bachelor". In other words she thinks I'm a poof. I objected to this. I may currently be a single man, but dislike people pigeon-holing me. Drank until the early hours.

-=-

Tuesday April 3, 1979

_. Auntie Hilda phoned today to say Karen and Steve are going out babysitting on Saturday and so we cannot have the Grand Gadsby-Rhodes reunion this time. Thwarted again. She told Mum that cousin Derek's wife, Jennifer, is expecting her second baby in November. Karen phoned at 7:30 to say we can all have the great gathering on April 14, which is the day before Easter. I readily agree, and communicate this news to Sue. Mum and Dad with Hilda and Tony are probably going to stay with Ruby and Arthur for Easter, and so the house at Pudsey will be void of parents and eligible for an orgy. Alison is also coming for Easter, and so she'll be included in the party. Gosh, I can hardly wait.

At about 8:30 in walked John and Sheila, from Lanzarote, with Valerie and her boyfriend Graham, a law student at Nottingham Polytechnic. It was such a surprise because we haven't seen them since Christmas, 1977, and following the boycotting of Lynn's wedding, I thought we'd seen the last of them.

Uncle John is just the same self-assured, suave businessman. He never has a penny but is always on the verge of making a fortune. The gold mine is always just around the corner.  At 11pm they run Valerie and Graham to Harrogate, and then come back to stay the night with us. We discussed Lanzarote and our wayward, insane family. From Blackpool to Selby and from the Canary Isles to Stranraer we are making our mark on the world.

-=-

20170301

Wednesday March 28, 1979

_. A revolting wet day. It's blowing a gale at the moment [12:15am 29/03/1979] .

Auntie Hilda is 43 today. Mum phoned her this morning. Mum suggested that they team up and go to Ruby and Arthur's together at Easter. H seemed to think this is a good idea.

Sarah has been a cow all day. ______________.

Susan and Peter went out for an Indian meal to celebrate their recovery from gastroenteritis. Oh God!

I have excellent news to relate here. At 10:30 tonight the government was defeated in the House of Commons on a vote of no confidence, by 311 to 310 votes. Old Callaghan will have to go to the country at last. The Queen will be asked to dissolve Parliament in the next few days and the general election campaign will begin. April 26 and May 10 are possible dates. It looks like Margaret Hilda Thatcher will be the first woman prime minister. One Labour MP missed the vote due to illness. I'd be interested to know who that was. His vote would have resulted in a tie and the Speaker would have cast the deciding vote with Her Majesty's Government. Angela Rippon was obviously beside herself with glee whilst reading the late news. It's obvious she is a 'true blue'. No government has been defeated in this way and subsequently fallen since Ramsay MacDonald's first Labour administration in 1924, and he was succeeded by Baldwin. Poor Jim Callaghan's 'Zinoviev Letter' is the failure of devolution ~ such a pathetic subject on which to risk all, don't you think?

Things will now hot up at the YP and the build up to the general election will be all good stuff. It's an exciting time. I really pity the poor people of Paraguay or Argentina, where elections of any kind are strictly taboo. They don't realise just what they are missing. ________.

Went to bed with Agatha Christie at 12:25am.

-=-

20170210

Sunday February 18, 1979

_. The news is going around that a thaw is underway, but I don't believe a word of it. [Is my handwriting going down hill. Bear with me, said the raccoon]. Is a raccoon a bear? No, I don't think so. It's probably related to a bear. Half cousins probably. Like the Queen and the Marquess of Cambridge, or me and Sharon Kirk. However, this drivel is getting us nowhere. Precisely.

Over breakfast Mama suggests a trip to Auntie Hilda's after luncheon, and I add that we should go out - en famille - for a quick dose of alcohol first. It is decided upon. Mum, Dad, Sue, Pete and I head out to the Dog and Gun at Appperley Bridge. It's a long time since I went out for a drink with Mum & Dad. We discuss all going to Stockport together. It is my considered opinion that my parents do not go out enjoying themselves enough. They spend all their time home brewing and have become virtual recluses within the space of a few years.

At 2:30 we went on to 6, St James's Crescent, Pudsey [Sue and Pete having gone home]. Had a boozy, pleasurable afternoon with the Gadsbys. Joined by Steve & Tim. I am told we stayed to dinner, but don't remember this. Hilda's Yorkshire Terrier, Pepper, is a delight. Uncle Tony [the Liberal candidate] is more sensible these days and remained calm and collected when I frequently, without warning, dropped 'Jeremy Thorpe' into the conversation.

-=-



20131112

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. __________________.

-=-

20120313

Sunday March 27, 1977

Passion Sunday. I like the sound of that.  Wake up to snow and hail. Do nothing whatsoever other than eat lunch and lounge around with a crumby Sunday newspaper. To be honest with you, I don't feel greatly informative today so don't expect anything astounding.

Did you know Mr Healey is presenting his Budget on Tuesday? Yes, and I bet he makes it a good one because of Labour's precarious position at the moment. Not discussing politics anyway.

Rang Dave G in Stockport at 7pm. He and Glenn are definitely coming on Saturday for my official birthday celebrations.

The Tenerife crash, 1977.
Work 5pm-12 midnight. Nothing spectacular here either. The world's worst ever aviation accident has taken place in the Canary Islands. 7,000,000 people dead, or something. Otherwise, nothing at all. Ursula never stops talking. I bet her jaws ache.

Crikey, it's Mrs Hilda Gadsby's 41st birthday tomorrow. She is of course the wife of Norman Anthony Gadsby, prospective Liberal councillor for the Borough of Pudsey.

Home by taxi in the snow at 12. Bed with P.G. Wodehouse. Goodnight.

-==-

20101115

Sunday April 4, 1976


Passion Sunday. Passion Sunday maybe, but as far as I was concerned nothing could be further from the truth. Poor Carole was like a moron all day and looks ghastly and haggard. What's become of the vital young maiden of yesteryear? If she doesn't leave home soon she will do something foolish and hideous. Make no mistake about it, our Carole cannot always be relied upon to make a rational move and the thought of her leaping under a bus is always at the forefront of my mind. She was tragic over lunch and I thought she might pass out.

Jackie stays all day. It was quite a laugh really. She took quite a few pictures of us in the garden.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came at 8.30 just as Lynn, Dave and Martyn arrived back from Alison's. Auntie brought me a clock for my birthday and Lynn is horrified to see it because it's the same as what Dave's bought me. Hilda takes her gift home and is going to change it later.

Dave took Carole home at 11. She was close to tears. She hasn't slept at home since Wednesday.

-==-

20101113

Sunday March 28, 1976


4th in Lent. Mothering Sunday. Mrs Hilda Gadsby's 40th birthday.

I didn't climb out of bed until 12 o'clock. Mum and Dad went out for a tete a tete in some distant bar.

A beautiful tea attended by John, Maria, Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel, Mark, Debbie, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Peter, Carole, Mum, Dad and me. Auntie Mabel's clan arrived at 2.30-3 o'clock and Lynn and I entertained them over our photograph albums until Mum & Dad returned home. Tea was then prepared by Lynn - a buffet-type tea which was fantastic. John looked well - fatter. Is Maria having twins?

Jack Simon came up with the proofs of the wedding photos. They really are brilliant. I order seven for my album. Auntie Mabel is reduced to tears at the sight of a picture of her and Uncle Jack arriving at the church. She had a good weep.

--==--

20100612

Thursday November 6, 1975

A bright cold morning. Up at 7.40 and don't have time for breakfast.

I think it is something of a coincidence that Inverary Castle, Scottish home of the Duke of Argyll, is raised to the ground by a mysterious fire on Bonfire Night, the very day before Margaret Duchess of Argyll publishes her memoirs. Old Margaret has little or no affection for her step-son, the duke, and it's a known fact that she would do anything for publicity. I will discuss this affair when more details come in.

Would you believe me if I were to tell you that Franco is being kept alive on a kidney machine? Well, he is. Juan Carlos is the one I feel sorry for. If he isn't a patient man I can't see him being happy at the present time.

Thank God it's pay day. I will have to watch how I spend it this week because I think that Carole's birthday present had better come out of it. Just what I am going to get her is a revolting problem. My imagination just fizzles out when it comes to birthdays, christmases ande christenings. She says all she would like is a solitary red rose, but I must think of something more substantial.

The traffic in Leeds at 4.30 today was like Los Angeles in the rush hour. The bus completely ignored me, and I walked all the way across town to the bus station. It was nearly 6pm when I staggered in for tea.

Mum and Dad are in stitches about Mr Monkman, who came round today to try and solve the 'BUDGIES FOR SALE' sign mystery. Evidently a car did stop on Sunday morning and a chap did enquire about blue breeders! His main reason for coming round, however, was to ask Papa to witness his will. No doubt the whole of the Monkman estate will pass to his beloved son, Tony.

Carole rings me at 8 and we talk for ten minutes or so. Seeing her tomorrow evening. Mum and Dad go to Pudsey to see the Gadsbys. John and I watch a clapped out film starring Michael Redgrave. It's quite good really - just old.

I go for my bath at 11.30.

-==-

20100521

Tuesday September 30, 1975

A wet, unpleasant day. The end of September. It has been a lengthy month this, and we can now settle down in front of the TV on these unsettled evenings to watch such thrilling things as the Labour party conference from Blackpool, and all those adverts urging us to buy our Christmas presents early whilst we still have time. The prospects aren't thrilling at all when one thinks about it.

Work was uneventful and nothing is in the headlines at the time being. The usual rubbish about whether the Labour leadership will survive the party conference is all over the front page, but otherwise nothing of interest at all.

Home on the 5.15 (bus) for fish and chips (again). They do say that this greasy creation forms the staple diet of the working classes, and I tend to agree. I also think that they are the staple diet of the middle and upper classes because if you could see some of the people who queue for miles in all weathers outside Harry Ramsden's you'd know what I mean.

That is about all for today other than to mention that the Gadsby pair called upon us at about 8.30. They went out with Mum and Dad, and on arriving back here, we sat until nearly 1am talking about National Service, the energy crisis, politics and all the other useless subjects. Came to bed at 1.30 after compiling a letter to Carole. The first class post is eight and a half pence now! I'll have to try to curb my letter writing activities.

-==-

20100506

Sunday September 7, 1975

15th after Trinity. Wake up on the sofa at Dunedin House with my arms round the most beautiful girl in the world. That was 7am. Feel as though I'm dying with 'dog disease' and the symptoms are very similar to those I suffered from in Windsor last September. John and 'George' are upstairs and I persuaded Carole to go investigate. John comes down at about 7.15 and we both leave for home. Mum will be worried sick if she has just happened to go into our room. The poor soul will be thinking we are dead, or something.

Crawl into bed at 7.30 and sleep until nearly 2pm, when Mum comes in to say that lunch is about ready. She did call in on us at 6am when Dad was leaving for work and was worried, as I thought she would be. I told her that Maria had had a party and at the last minute we decided to stay over. Chicken for lunch followed by a much needed cup of coffee in the lounge in front of an ailing Gary Cooper film.

At 4.30 we both go back to 'George's' where I sit about playing old Beatles LPs whilst the girls get out of bed! Lazy devils that they are. They even had me making cups of tea while they sat propped up in bed. Not forgetting the mountains of coconut cake which they quickly demolished. At about 5 we decided to go off for a walk over the moors taking Prinney with us. John, of course, had to go as far as Thorpe Lane in the car, but we, the four of us, managed to do a lengthy all round trip of Hawksworth. It was such a great afternoon. Carole was wearing her large 'oil rig' type shoes, and thus kept falling on her back in the brambles and heather - much to my advantage I can tell you.

At about 7 we got back to our place where the four of us had tea. 'George' asked of Mum was artistic because she'd laid the table in such a nice way. I must admit, I've never noticed this before, but on reflection I must agree. Mum and Dad go off to see Auntie Hilda, &c. and we all play records and watch an Orson Welles film. Prinney came back too, and Dad quite took to him. I'm looking forward indeed to getting a dog.

We have a great time really and I'm getting to love Carole even more so now. Today will go down as one of my favourite days of all time.

-==-

Tuesday September 2, 1975

Mum & Dad hear that they've failed to get the Menston Arms. I'd quite built up my hopes for the place and don't think Mum is too happy about the news either. Why, Oh why can't things ever be nice and easy for our family? I'm sure we must be fated or something. Dad thinks that the New Inn in Guiseley is a good place to try for, but I don't think it looks like anything special at all.

Marita rings at 7.30 to see about meeting me for lunch in the Wellesley tomorrow. Dave will of course be coming along, and probably MM. Haven't seen Marita since that party we had at the end of July. _______.

John sold his Morris 1100 today. £15!! I think it's quite ridiculous because he paid £150 for it 13 months ago, but he doesn't seem peturbed by his loss. His wild hysteria over the spitfire is probably still colouring his judgement, but I bet he'll regret giving his old car away one day. You mark my words.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came this evening. I was in the midst of watching 'Quo Vadis' a 3-hour film based on the Roman Empire and the Christians, &c. Peter Ustinov is Nero, and Deborah Kerr a sensual slave-girl. Not a good film really. Mum, Dad, Hilda and Tony went to the New Inn to give it the 'once over'. By strange coincidence, John and 'George' were also inspecting the New Inn at the same time, and they came back at 11pm with tales of wonder. Evidently, it isn't a bad place after all, and even John was impressed by the decor. I shall have to see it to believe it. Doubting Thomas is like a rice pudding compared with me.

The Gadsbys return for supper and we tuck into beef sandwiches and sardine sandwiches. John brings 'George' back and Peter Nason is here too. Lynn and Dave are round at Christine D's residence and don't get back until late.

After 'Quo Vadis' I switched onto BBC2 and see the 1705 version of 'Jane Eyre' starring Orson Welles and Olivia de Havilland's plain sister - I can't remember he name now. An outstanding film anyway, and I came to bed after the Gadsby's departure at 12.00.

-==-

20091215

Sunday December 29, 1974

1st after Christmas. Wake up in a lousy state at noon. Still fully clad in jeans and cardigan, but all in knots. Am still drunk at 12. After a bath with the window wide open and a large cooked breakfast I disappeared back to bed until 4.30. Came downstairs to be faced by a bowl of Mum's trifle which had gone off. Nearly decided to call it a day and return to bed, but chose to stay to entertain Dave and Lynn, who are discussing tonight's rave at the Gadsby mansion.

They all go at about 6 and I sit about listening to the radio. Once again the fateful December 29 is upon us. The fifth anniversary of the death of Uncle Albert. Not wishing to be too morbid I'd like to say a few words about him. At the age of 14 I had led a completely sheltered life of happiness and domestic bliss. For those 14 years death had been an unknown monster. Like other children, I never expected this ugly __to raise its sombre face in my direction. But, on December 29, 1969, my little world was shattered by the death Uncle Albert, my beloved relative and friend. This event marked a point of some significance. Nobody before or since has died leaving me so upset. In short, he's the only person I ever been close to and lost. That is why I keep this day in horror next to my heart. I realise that before my life is done, many such dates will be of horrid significance to me.

-==-

20091214

Sunday December 8, 1974

2nd in Advent. A quick day, and it seemed to grow dark very suddenly before the afternoon had even begun. See a rotten 1939 film on TV and listen to the usual radio programmes in the bath.

John goes out with the Denby Twins in their van and ends up at the Cow & Calf until 12. I get a 55 bus which brings back memories of my love affair with Miss Bottomley, and go to the Emmotts where I'm joined by Denny and Marita. Marita has changed her image again - and is no longer endowed with a head of curls. Nevertheless she looks quite stunning. We sit about looking bored and talking about the events of 1974. Marita says I don't look my usual self, and says I need a good romance to cheer me up. That's all I need! Denny says that Adrian is a hypercondriac and a failure. They're going for a meal tomorrow but she says I can take his place because he's in London and 'with a bit of luck won't be back in time', unquote. She also amused me by saying he is a surveyor, but doesn't think 'he could survey a rice pudding'. Back to Marita's where I inspect my landscape framed on her bedroom wall. A great honour for me indeed. Home and about 11 and have supper with Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony, Jill and Diane. Jill is becoming_______.

-==-

20091211

Wednesday November 20, 1974

Death of Queen Alexandra, 1925. Weather improved on yesterday, but the snow is still with us. Harry collects me at 8am and it's not unlike the feeling murderers must once have endured when being collected by the padre en route to the gallows. Shocking driving lesson until 9 and feel utterly doomed at the prospects in store for me. The actual test lasted for about half an hour and I didn't seem to do too badly at all - nevertheless, I failed. The two faults were failing to adhere to the correct regulation of speed when approaching a crossroad; and failing to satisfy him that I have any knowledge of the Highway Code. The latter so called weak point is quite unfair - he asked me all sorts of rubbish about motorway signs, lights, and all the other ridiculous signs which the ordinary person doesn't use from one decade to the next. Home at nearly 10.

Harry arranges some more dates for me and I go inside and devour beans on toast. Ring Mum, Auntie Hilda and the girls at the YP with the bad news, and then open my mail in order to seek some kind of cheery escape. A letter from MM in Sheffield; one from Denny, and one from Benton Park inviting me to their Xmas Disco on December 19. Very thoughtful of them to remember me after all these months. Poor MM was quite a nervous wreck about the test, and wished me all the luck in the world - which doesn't seem to have been enough. Lynn rings me and I inform her of the result. Alison was also horror-struck. Work 5 till 12. Quite a good evening and go with Tony (Kelly) to the Central Station for an hour. Nothing of importance happens. Please forgive the change of ink, but I hate using biro to record these historic events here within.

-==-

20091210

Sunday November 10, 1974

22nd after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday again. Wonder whether this is going to go on indefinately until the end of time. In seventy years time no survivors of any of the world wars will be left and I suppose it will become a little less important. Not that we can ever forget those who died in order that we can all live freely, because if we do it will be the ultimate in selfishness. Yes, Remembrance Day is a good thing.

Up at 12. Papa wallpapers the kitchen &continues after lunch. We all sit in front of the TV until about 6, when the top 20 begins.

When the Queen comes to Bradford next Wednesday I intend having the day off to lend my support to the monarchical cause. It will be my first viewing of the Sovereign on Yorkshire soil. I must persuade Sue to accomapny me. It will be an experience for her.

See TV all evening and the Gadsby clan come at about 8. Mum, Dad, Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony go to Esholt and John goes off with Chris and Carol. I sit with Diane and Jill. Little Di is an absolute dear and completely transformed from the obnoxious horror of a couple of years ago.

-==-

20091113

Sunday September 22, 1974

15th after Trinity. Up at nearly 12. Have little bacon for breakfast and discuss changing my driving test date with that of Mamas. Come upstairs and unpack and have a bath.

Today is the 26th birthday of Capt Mark Phillips. Let the Bells toll their Joyous News throughout the Kingdom! Some sort of public celebration really ought to be lavished upon the young captain who, after all, rescued Britain's favourite princess from spinsterhood.

The Gadsbys come after tea, and John and I go to the Hare in the 1100 after collecting Carol from her Yeadon residence.

Dave comes with Chris, and never do I fail to have hysterics when Mr Lawson is on the scene. Move on to that soddin' little pub in Askwith that doesn't sell crisps, peanuts 'or anything of that nature, sir'. Snobs! I wouldn't mind but it's only bloody Askwith, not Ascot.

Back to Westfield Fisheries where I dissolved into fits of laughter at Dave, who looking at the large, sprawling woman said: "She must eat two fish for every one she serves." Absolutely sick to death of laughing.

-==-

20091006

Monday September 2, 1974

Lousy day with constant rain and drizzle throughout. Nothing much doing at the YP and I don't get out at lunchtime because of the weather, sitting looking at cuttings on the death of George VI instead. Kathleen goes at 4 leaving Sarah and I quite alone for the last hour. Peter Chapman comes in to see us and we laugh at his escapades in love. He's a childish sod. Home at 6 for tea. Feel like going to see Marita tonight to look at the Appletreewick photos, which should be fantastic if they come out like we intended. Give her a ring at 6.30 and she says they are fine. Tell her about Fridays camping expedition to Grassington and she promises to ask MM whether they can go or not. She certainly fancies th idea but cannot answer for her espoused. At about 7 Mama suggests that John and I take her to Pudsey to see Auntie Hilda, who doesn't know about John's little 1100. Papa is working until 10 so we leap at the opportunity. Arrive at the Gadsby residece at about 7.30 and we sit with dear Auntie H and Uncle Tony and the girls drinking home made wine commenting on how revolting it all is (the wine that is). Call in at Westfield fish and chip shop on the way home. Home at 10.30. Dad looks rather pale tonight. -==-

20090716

Sunday August 4, 1974

As I've already said, I woke up at about 10.30 or thereabouts on Auntie Eleanor's lounge floor - not two hundred yards from the house where I was born 19 years ago.

Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack seem very unsociable and not very talkative. They don't really speak to poor Neil who is going to Cyrpus or somewhere equally offensive until Christmas at least. Sue and Peter are still in love - after last night, though she still feels very sick. We leave the Myers home at 11.30 after bidding farewell to dear Jackie, my favourite cousin of all time.

Walk to Auntie Hilda's where we drink home brewed beer till after one without having any food at all. Sandwiches with the Gadsbys was quite a laugh, though Uncle Tony departed up a ladder to paint the bedroom windows with the aid of Steve, Karen's boyfriend. Leave for Bradford just after 2 and we are all back at Pine Tops by 4. Mama makes tea for us all - that is Denny, Sue, Peter, Ronnie, Lynn, John, Carol and myself - not forgetting the most important one of all - Uncle "I'm God's annointed" Tony.

To the Hare and Hounds with Denny at 7.30. Carol doesn't speak to John and I fear that Linda must have told her of John's liaison (set for next Wednesday) with his American friend, Carol Shires.


"Rock Your Baby" by George Macrae.

-==-

20090618

Sunday July 28, 1974


7th after Trinity. Nice lunch at 1. See 'African Queen' on tv in the afternoon - Katherine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart. Denny rings at about 5.______________________________.

David went out with Denny, MM, and Marita last night - if I'd have thought about it I'd have asked him, David that is, to accompany us to the Stansfield. Ring Dave at about 8 and he says he can't come out tonight because of a shocking cold.

Go to the Commercial where John and I meet the two Americans, Anne and Carol. Peter takes Anne and John takes the other. MM and Marita bring Denny, and Mum, Dad, Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony come shortly after. Tremendous evening. Auntie H is a brilliant success really. MM and Marita decide to come with Denny and I to Spain. Me and Den. are going to Marita's on Monday evening to decide the colour scheme for her bedroom. My painting 'Seascape, 1970' is to be the central feature. I'm quite proud. Chris, who I haven't seen much of, along with Christine W and Carol Smith come back for coffee, Bacardi, Martini, etc. Uncle Tony drinks out of the Spanish wine thing brought back from Malgrat. Hilarious night. Go to my bedroom at 1 and sit re-styling the whole place in my mind. Sit in bed waiting for John to come to bed (It's an old tradition that I am always the last to be awake at night). Seeing Marita earlier and discussing decorating with her has given me the urge to re-do my room. The main problem wit this room is the size, which is ridiculously small, and sharing with a younger brother cannot make matters any better. I decide to go Victorian. Glance at Queen Mary and at 2.30 call it a day and switch off the light.

-==-

Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...