Sunday December 11, 1977

3rd in Advent. Not a very comfortable night. Dave and I were tucked up in the same bed again. Me at the bottom and Dave at the top. I kicked him several times in the face.

We eventually took breakfast at noon and went straight into the bar for yet another session. I cut down my alcoholic intake drastically. Bill was amusing. He seems to have taken a shine to me. We chatted away in Rotter's like we were ancient friends.  I fear Garry is very shy.

Queen Victoria: is that a smile?

At 2 we had lunch and watched 'Royal Heritage' with some film of Balmoral including scenes of the Queen and Duke (of Edinburgh) dancing Highland reels at a ghillies ball. The royal way of life is no different to what it was in Victoria's day. Princess Alice, Countess of Athlone was featured too and she said she'd once asked her grandmother, Queen Victoria, whether she had ever said "we are not amused" and the venerable old lady flatly denied she had ever uttered such a sentence. Princess Alice is disappointed. Victoria, she says, is a much maligned monarch.

At 7:30 after bidding farewell to Mr & Mrs Glynn Dave, Bill, Garry and I went to Manchester. More booze (only a slight amount though) and at 8:30 I left for home. Won't be seeing the lads again until the New Year. Dave is working on New Year's Eve. Home by 10:30.

Mum is knitting me a 'sloppy' pullover which, to the horror of all present, doesn't even fit over my head. Certain amendments are going to have to be made, I fear.

Back to the YP in the morning. It's going to take a super human character to get through the day.

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Monday August 15, 1977

You will be relieved to read that the poor, exhausted Queen is on her way to Balmoral for her first break since February. Thank God the Ireland visit is over and done with and safely sealed away in the pages of history.

Carole phoned to explain why I received a postcard from Newquay on Saturday which had an Ilkley postmark embellished upon it. Miss Phillips is a write-off as far as I'm concerned and she can become Mrs Peter Fogarty tomorrow. Goodnight.

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Monday October 13, 1975

Quite busy at work today because Kathleen isn't back until tomorrow and Carol J is away with Brian from the engraving department having a dirty weekend in Blackpool.______.

Her Majesty the Queen returned to London from Balmoral today, and event which coincided with the first sitting of Parliament since the summer recess. John Stonehouse went to the Commons to protest his innocence and was generally ignored by his fellow MPs. So all in all the only person to acknowledge him since his return from Australia is Mary Wilson, wife of beloved Uncle Harold. The old girl must be something of an embarrassment to the Prime Minister at times.

After work I go straight down to Carole's where I find her looking greatly improved. She keeps apologising for something she says she did on Saturday afternoon, but I refuse to accept it because as far as I am concerned she is totally blameless of any misdemeanor. Believe it or not, we sat about on her bed playing Monopoly! It isn't a game I really enjoy, but the invalid seemed to take pleasure in it. Mrs P tried to make me have some tea with them but I flatly refused. I never feel hungry until later on.

Carole is a love. She says she is coming out with me on Wednesday evening because I go south on Thursday. I must bring her a present back from Windsor.

Home at 8.15 and have eggs and bacon. After devouring this I sit about for an hour and go to bed at about 10pm.

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Saturday May 31, 1975

John and I go into Otley in afternoon for a lark around, but with the main intention of finding a decent tool shop for my younger brother and eventual heir. I say heir because the title will of course go to him and his children after I'm gone, because unless CB marries me, I will not produce any offspring. Christine Braithwaite is the only person whom I'd consider making my duchess.

Home at 5.30 to find Mum and Dad looking sun-tanned after a week in Scotland laden with relics and souvenirs of Balmoral and Inveraray. They tell us the tale and explain how they managed to motor 1300 miles in seven days. Glad to see them home safely.

To the Fleece with Dave, Lynn and John. I tore a hole in my trousers climbing into Mr Baker's sports car, but otherwise received no other injuries, well other than verbal ones that is. At the off-licence in Guiseley we were asked our age! Twenty years old, and people still think I'm 15.

All the mob gather in the Fleece and we move on to Laura's at 9.30. A drunken evening follows. Laura's parents are nice folk. Much nicer than I ever imagined. Her eighty-six year-old granny was a right case too. Chris, Pete M, John, Raymond and his mate, and me walked back down Town Street at 2am and we left chaos and devastation in our path. John fell off the causeway and sprained his ankle, and was then bitten by Dandy, the Ratcliffe hound, on our arrival at 21, Victoria Drive. Poor Pete had never been drunk before. And WAS he drunk!

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Friday October 11, 1974

Back at the YP as usual. Surprised that Harold (Wilson) will not be seeing the Queen, who is still at Balmoral, to accept her invitation to form a government. But really, I suppose he has been Prime Minister throughout, and it would have only been necessary for him to see the Queen had he been defeated. HM must have been quite confident of a Labour victory because no plans were laid, or any attempt made, for her to return to London.

Go to Otley at 8, and meet Lynne (Mather) at half past. Acutely cold evening and we go into the pub close to the Victoria Memorial Clock. Stay till 10.30. Lynne is a very nice girl, though she reminds of June in many ways, & doesn't like going out in a crowd, which is unfortunate really. At 11, after seeing her safely onto a bus, I go to Wikis, where all the mob except Chris and Phyllis Whitethighs are assembled. Even Laura and Philip Cartwright. Get quite fresh.

See Sarah whos says her hair-do cost her £8 at Vidal Sassoons in Leeds! Bloody madness. John and Carol bump into Dave Slater and he proceeds to buy bottles of champagne and Bacardi, &c. Naturally, John and Carol become quite intoxicated. Dave Slater was already pissed up to the eye balls. We decide to come back to Pine Tops, and Dave drives me in the Bentley - a memorable journey to be sure. Sit till after 3.30.

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Sunday September 8, 1974

Wake up snug as a bug in a rug at 10.30. A wasp settles in Dave L's hair, and the hilarity caused by Pete spraying Dave's curly mop with fly-killer will be remembered long after the events of the weekend have passed into oblivion.

Hear on the news over toast and marmalade that Harold Wilson is with the Queen at Balmoral no doubt discussing election dates and tactics. October 3 or 10 seems to be the likely choice but nobody knows which one it is other than Harold, Her Majesty and Mrs Wilson (surely he passes on these little secrets to his dear wife?).

Dave L and I go with a camera for a tramp over the moors, taking hurried shots of sheep and large fungi plants feeding off the bark of rotten trees.

Very nice afternoon and the first nice weather we've had all weekend. Dave Lawson is a great chap. I've known him since 1967 and he's never changed one iota since that time - he has physically and mentally of course - but as far as outlook, humour and general appearance - not at all. One thing's for certain. I get on with no one better than Dave, never have done.

Back from the moors at 6.15. Sit cooling feet and sipping hot tea until the end of 'Pick of the Pops' at 7 - when we have a mad half hour with the camera. Back to the pub in Linton. Fruit machines too. Dave L, Dave B, Phyllis Whitethighs and I form a syndicate on the fruit machine and manage to lose £2 between us. All heartbroken. Leave for home at about 10.15.

Back before 11. Mum and Dad are at Pudsey but I wait up for them, eating steak until 12. See the newspapers for the first time since Friday. Fantastic weekend.

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