Showing posts with label devolution. Show all posts
Showing posts with label devolution. Show all posts

20120527

Wednesday May 4, 1977

A nice morning for a change. The birds actually lowered themselves to give us a tune and the rain managed to hold off until I was safely encased in the Jim-mobile. No Sarah today. Auntie Delia informed me that the poor girl is suffering from dizzy spells and such like. I like Auntie tremendously and we are still promising one another tea or an evening meal but she is always bogged down with (flower arranging) classes.

YP was dead. Worked through lunch and went home at my usual time - 4.30. Horrible meal this evening. Mother is still behaving positively rude and childishly, which encourages me to a certain extent. Her attitude won't get her anywhere at all.

Queen: speech to the Lords & Commons
On the 6 o'clock news saw the Queen and the Royal Family in Westminster Hall receiving the thanks of the Lords and Commons for 25 dedicated years, &c. HM made a controversial statement about devolution saying she had been crowned Queen of England, Scotland and Northern Ireland and intended remaining so. The Scottish Nationalists are aggravated by it but I think it was a tremendous thing for her to say it. At least one person in the land wants to keep the United Kingdom intact.

To be quite honest I'm getting cheesed off with the complete lack of patriotism at the moment. Dear mother is a leading advocate and her attitude about a Silver Jubilee party astounds me. How she had the bloody nerve to pay me £2.50 for her share in Robert Lacey's 'Majesty' God only knows! About as patriotic as Willie Hamilton's left buttock she is. I could become quite violent on the subject if I tried hard enough. I expect that all the flag waving and cheering will take place on June 7 and then everyone will forget about it. It's about time the Queen used her influence to rally nationalism.

Out with Judith to the Hare and back to her place until almost 3am.Discuss purchasing the Sun. How much would it take to make a box for it?

-==-

20120214

Wednesday February 23, 1977

Ash Wednesday. Nothing much to talk about other than politics. The Devolution Bill was defeated in the Commons yesterday and I had the misfortune to watch Margaret Thatcher discussing this on News at Ten. Let us pray to God she will never get to No 10, Downing Street. (Does my politics confuse you all? I don't aim to deceive you in any way, but please remember I don't vote or support 'personalities'. I shall always cast my vote with the Tories but as far as I'm concerned Margaret Thatcher is as capable of forming the next government as Queen Victoria Eugenie of Spain. So that settles that problem.) -=-








David Glynn.
I feel relieved about the content of this diary. If you lot think you're being badly done to enduring my scribblings, just consult the published journals of Evelyn Waugh. Positively sickening they are. You ought to take my volumes round to Sir George Weidenfeld and get them published. I am doing far better than the depraved Mr Waugh. Sadly however, I'm not a world-famous author or leading wit, am I? Well, not yet anyway. I have been notified by Papa that Mrs Margaret Phillips, mother of Carole, of ex-relationship with the author fame, appeared in court at Otley last Friday and was fined £40 or so for ______. I always said that Mrs P was a silly cow. Tony rings at 8. He and Martyn are off out with Miss Moorhouse and Naomi to the wine bar and he wants to know if I am endulging. I say 'no' because it's Barclaycard pay-up or bust day tomorrow. Dave G also phoned from Stockport to say he'll try to make it on April 2. He rang on Sunday when I was at the YP and again yesterday when I was at John & Maria's. Good lad is David.

20111205

Monday December 6, 1976




Not as cold today, everyone. Leave Thornton-le-Dale at 7.30 but don't get to Leeds until 10 o'clock. The car is knackered and we have to drive without the radio and heat, and a terrible noise came from the engine. A silent, pondering journey gazing out at the bleak North Yorkshire countryside - my thoughts turn to Edward Heath and his devolution speech and the more serious matter of my festering in-growing right toe-nail. Lynne sits, tightly wrapped, in a rain-coat looking straight ahead whilst these important issues pass before my eyes. My thoughts also turn to another weird dream I had last night. It was about Miss C.P. I become quite depressed just thinking about it.

Don't get to the YP until 10. A quiet, miserable day. Sarah is off of course, and Mrs Johnson tells me tales of wild activities over the weekend with several of her 'clients'. God only knows what she's trying to prove. Get a bus in pouring rain to Sarah's at 4.30. [It] takes about an hour to travel six miles, or however far it is these days from Leeds to Horsforth. 'Aunt' Delia is in high spirits and she presents me with a couple of [flower] arrangements for Mama and one for Lynne's mum. £3.50 each.
Delia shows me some photos of her with Lord & Lady Bath and other great aristocrats. Keith Michell too. Stay until about 6.30 when Sarah drives me home. I'm sure Sarah fancies me. I'm not one to fantasize am I?

Lynne comes over at 8.30. She stays 210.6 seconds. Not seeing her again until Thursday. Can't say I'm going to die of a broken heart before that wondrous meeting. See Woody Allen in the film 'Bananas' which is great and then retire to bed contemplating my rotting toe. Dad doesn't panic when he sees it and he advises me to bathe it. This I do.

-==-

20100614

Wednesday November 19, 1975

Wet day. Much more mild than it's been for a couple of days, and I set off down the lane at great risk of getting a thorough soaking.

Work was quite busy and I work through lunch and 'hold the fort' whilst the girls go on a spree into town. I leave at 3.30 to get Carole a birthday card. Dash across Leeds in the cold and drizzle in order to find her a decent card. Why do birthday cards always have to be slimy and pathetic? I hate sloppy verses.

I am so glad that the Prime Minister is making a firm stand on this devolution subject. It is obvious that he wants nothing to do with it, but has been forced to drop promises here and there from the Queen's Speech in order to pacify the rabid Scottish Nationalists and insane Welsh MPs. This feeble legislation is only making things worse because the devolutionists expected and wanted a good deal more. It will be a grim day indeed when we wake up to find Scotland, Wales, Rutland and Humberside all with individual administrative bodies. I don't mind the Commonwealth going, but I draw the line when matters get closer to home.

Carole rings at 5.30 and I tell her I have bought her a card. Sue, Pete and I walk to her place at 8 o'clock and we sit with her brother, Paul, whilst she tries on her new dress. A beauty it is. Suits her down to the ground, if you'll pardon the pun, and goes well with the new hairstyle.

The four of us go over to the Hare. John and Maria join us, and Sue and Pete leave at 9.30. We have a good laugh really and book a meal in the restaurant for 9 o'clock tomorrow. It will be our first meal out together - alone. We went to Maria's birthday thing in July, but that was a drunken affair when Carole meant little or nothing to me.

We walk up to Harry Ramsden's at 10pm and sit about on a wall discussing marriage, and children's names, of all things. She says that a would-be son of hers would have to be called Michael. I love her and think she is sexy beyond everyone else. Carole gets so jealous over me and CB. I wonder at times whether I am good enough for her. A pure Angel she is, and naive and vulnerable too. ________.


-==-

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...