Showing posts with label bermuda. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bermuda. Show all posts

20100615

Sunday December 14, 1975

3rd in Advent. Up at 7.30am. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. I was up at 7.30 and at Carole's for 8.30.

At home I first had a boiled egg for breakfast and got myself well wrapped up for the great ordeal ahead of me. By 8.30 I was at Carole's and by 9 o'clock we'd roused the entire household.

After sitting for an hour listening to Mrs P's reminiscences of her Bermudan childhood, we set off for the bus stop. The prospect of walking to Ilkley proved unbearable and so we decided to go the idle way. We have a laugh in the garden centre in Menston and end up walking miles anyway because the buses only run once every hour on the Sabbath.

Get to Ilkley for 11.30 and immediately buy fish and chips, which are putrifying. A tour of the antique shops concludes the visit and we return to Guiseley for luncheon.

I'm in no writing mood today. I feel listless.

-==-

20091220

Monday February 17, 1975


Quiet day at the YP. Do all my routine before lunch and sit with a beef and onion sandwich and 'The News of the World' after. George Best is publishing his memoirs in full sordid detail, so what with Richard Crossman it seems like an embarrassing time for certain people at the moment. Lord George-Brown and Sir Matt Busby will be particularly ruffled by these publications.

Crossman makes the Queen out to be a feeble, pathetic figure. She's always 'The poor Queen'.

A bright, sunny day. Home in the light for the first time this year. Salad for tea. Just watch TV later.

Bob Cryer, the silly MP for Keighley, is now joining Mr Hamilton in the ritual humilation of the Royal Family. He is criticising the Queen and Prince Philip's current state visit to Bermuda. 'Most people don't have the chance to get away like this', he said. I quite agree. Most people don't 'get the chance' to go on a gruelling tour, shaking 7,000,000 hands, dishing out medals, and throwing large, sweaty banquets for old diplomats, and not many people want to do this either. Mr Cryer must think the Queen is going on holiday. Another example of 'Westminster ignorance' which is reaching epidemic proportions.

--==--

Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...