Friday January 5, 1979

Carol J is away from the YP with 'chest problems' It's a big enough chest. Sarah wore a fur hat all day at her typewriter saying it was because her hair is so filthy and she cannot subject me to the sight of it.

Two lords died today and both peerages became extinct. Viscount Harcourt died without an heir, and so too did Earl Beauchamp. How many years will it be before Burke's Peerage can be published in a pocket~sized edition?

Took a half~day and went to buy Mum and Dad a pepper mill for their birthdays. Spent £5. Also, devoured fish & chips from Harry's (Ramsden's) before heading for home in the sun and snow at 3pm.

At 6pm Lynn and Dave B came to carry me off to Burley-in-Wharfedale. We had tomato soup and ate pizza and chips, and drank beer, apricot wine and a quantity of whisky. Dave was pale. He had a headache. He looked at death's door. We watched "What's New Pussycat" on TV. I thought of Judith Rushworth, who loves Peter Sellers. In fact Sellers deserved an Oscar for his performance as Professor Fassbender, the psychiatrist.

Dave had to go to bed at 12, but Lynn and I lasted until 1.30. She does tend to bite his head off.

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Monday September 26, 1977

Work was quite lazy. We made a birthday card for Michael Robertshaw, whose birthday it is today - his 21st. Eileen has been quite a misery since returning from honeymoon and today she smiled once or twice but is still quite off -hand with me. The reason for this I fail to understand but it must have something to do with Christine Byram's party. I have no intention of worrying about it anyway.

A Woody Allen film on the BBC tonight.'Play it Again, Sam'. Thoroughly hilarious. That actor is one of the funniest men alive I'm sure.

Mr Fishmonger's book.

Roddy Llewellyn.

Edith Blackwell has lent us a copy of 'Margaret: Princess without a cause' by Willie Fishsomethingorother. I fully intended purchasing it but after glancing over it I am so glad I haven't wasted the £5.50. It is just like the Helen Cathcart biography with a bit of extra spice gathered from the cheap Sunday newspapers and gossip from the European and American journals. Coincidentally the papers today have stories about Margaret in them. According to one, Roderic Victor Llewellyn (born October 9, 1947, son of Sir Harry Llewellyn, KB, and grandson of Sir David Llewellyn, 1st Baronet) is being groomed as a courtier with the intention of marrying him to Princess Margaret after her divorce next year. From his pedigree it's easy to see he is not the sort of low 'drop out' he's been made out to be. He is at least in Burke's  Peerage. Grandson on the paternal side of a baronet and on the maternal side of the 5th Baron de Saumarez. The young man no longer wears an ear ring and the t-shirt embossed with 'Roddy for PM' on the front has been replaced by pin striped suits and sober ties. It certainly seems he is being prepared for the trappings of royalty.

I retired to bed with Willie Fishmonger's boring, bitty book. I could do a better job and certainly get more of the facts right. Mr Fish 'n Chips in merely a profiteer, a sensationalist, a scoundrel. In fact I'm in two minds whether or not to go on reading it. 'Decline and Fall' by Mr Waugh is far more entertaining and certainly more of a bedtime book. Who knows what nightmares I'd be subjected to if I were to drift off to sleep after reading of the sexual exploits of Princess Margaret, which I am sure are based on nothing more than the idle chatter of ignorant people.

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Tuesday June 28, 1977

Decent weather for a change. Going down the lane on my journey to the metropolis I was stunned by the sight of vast quantities of nettles in the hedgerows. I decided to set about making nettle wine. "Oh Goody!" I thought to myself: "I can hardly wait to get started!" Subsequently, after tea on this bright, sunny evening I marched out armed with protective rubber gloves and a red plastic bucket on my quest for the most succulent nettles. After half an hour I was more than laden and my wine-making began. In fact I was boiling nettles until long after sun-set and by midnight my part of the creation was complete and the rest was in the capable hands of Mother Nature.

Ruth Ellis.

I did manage to see a bit of television. A documentary on Rubens, the 16th century painter and decorator, and a documentary on Ruth Ellis, the last young lady to die by the rope in these weak-kneed Isles. If I had my way a good many more women would receive the distinction of swinging by the neck from the gallows. Those pretty IRA lady bombers would go for a start. No doubt about it, they knew how to treat criminals in the 1950s.

Retired to bed at about midnight with Burke's Peerage. Did you know that the Duchess of Kent is descended from Oliver Cromwell? (If not then you haven't studied these diaries carefully enough because I've told you before). Felt exhausted and fell to sleep with the bedroom light blazing, only to be discovered by Mama at 3.30am. What was she doing prowling around the house at that God forsaken time?

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Monday August 2, 1976

Bank Holiday in Scotland & Irish Republic. A thoroughly miserable day at work. _____.

See two articles about the Prince of Wales and Davina Sheffield in the Sunday papers. One of them told of an incident in Devon a few days ago when the prince and Davina went down to a beach with a crate of beer accompanied only by one detective. The other was concerning an event which is alleged to have taken place on the same occasion. The prince had changed into bathing gear in a changing room and Davina went up later to change, using the mens room by mistake, and was caught in a naked state by one of the local clotted cream manufacturers who received a right eye-full. It will be a nice tale to tell if the couple ever marry.

Home at 5.15 and have a good argument over tea with Lynn, Dad and Mum. They argued that it was wrong that immigrants can get away with not wearing crash helmets because of their religion. My argument is that ones religious beliefs are more important than a ridiculous law that's been cooked up in Westminster one rainy afternoon just to pass the time. The same applies to the wearing of car seat belts. If a chap wants to risk his own life then why can't they let him get on with it? The sooner Roy Jenkins goes the better.

Mum handed in her notice this morning. Moon's Mill will certainly miss her because she's a brilliant worker and so efficient. Nothing can make her change her mind once it is made up. Prospective grandmothers shouldn't have to go to work anyway.

I was rendered speechless when, after taking my bath, I went downstairs to find Mum & Dad watching the Olympic Games on TV. When I exclaimed: "I thought they had finished yesterday?" Dad responded: "Oh yes, but now they're showing the hilights."
Oh My God. I quickly departed back to my room to read Burke's Peerage until the 9 o'clock news. Later watch Faye Dunaway and Kirk Douglas in a film until after 11, and then watch that last hour of 'Billy the Kid'. I'm addicted to the TV at the moment. The book by Trollope just does nothing for me.

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Thursday February 12, 1976

A wet bright day. At the YP Kathleen has a phone call to say the 1975 edition of Burke's Peerage is waiting to be collected at WH Smith's. I'm round there like a shot and return with the bound volume where, to my horror, I see that it is in fact a revised edition of the 1970 volume, andf even smaller because the royal section now forms a separate book. I think it's a disgrace, and at £38 it certainly isn't worth it. However, before taking it back I photostated the supplement in the front of the volume listing all the peers who have died since 1970, and proceed to amend our tatty volume myself. I then re-wrapped the book and took it back to Smith's. Devious I know.

Elton John is coming to the Grand Theatre Leeds on April 29-30 and Sarah, with her boyfriend Alan, Carol and her sweetheart, Eileen and Michael and Carole and I are going along to lend our support. Tickets are £3 each and we all payed today to get it over with. I'm not an absolute Elton John fanatic but I am curious to see how he performs on stage. The girls in the office will be clamouring to see Carole, because she's always been a mysterious voice on the other end of the phone. They'll be more interested in Carole than in Elton John.

Get home at 5.30 for fish and chips and chocolate cake and gallons of tea.

The Henry Jenkins deal is going through with great promise. Barkers accountants and valuers are working around the clock and we'll have a decision in two weeks.

John and I go down to the Hare at 7.30 and when he goes to Maria's half an hour later I go to Carole's. We have a romantic evening in the Hare and spend an hour in the tap room where all the locals seem to know us now. She really is cheerful and happy.

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Sunday November 23, 1975

Last after Trinity. A wet, horrible day. I walk down the lane after lunch to meet Carole off the 3 o'clock bus from Menston. She is a bit late and I walk about kicking leaves around pretending not to notice how unpunctual she is. I don't get too wet and feel refreshed by the gales and pounding rain. She does arrive in the end and we saunter up the lane like love birds.

Last night she lost her mother's priceless bracelet at the Cow & Calf and all hell was raised at 14, Oakridge Avenue, this morning.

We watched tv, and then John and Maria came over for tea. After tea, watched tv again. Nothing like a bit of variety, eh?

John obviously doesn't have my great willpower or strength of character because he and Maria made off to the Hare after part 2,000,000 of 'Upstairs, Downstarirs'. We all grit our teeth and fought our way through the news, eighteen war films and finally a Bette Davis epic.

Dave took Carole home with Peter at midnight or so, and I crawled away to bed.

Have I mentioned already that Kathleen found a 1956 Burke's Peerage in a cupboard at the office and I am now the proud owner of it?


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