Saturday July 2, 1977

A day in the garden doing bugger all. John called in this afternoon to enquire about my destination this evening. I told him I was supposed to be going out with Carole but not having heard from her I told him this now seemed unlikely. He says, with puzzled expression, that Carole has been playing hell all week because I hadn't phoned and that she would now be going out with John, Maria and Chris R tonight instead. Naturally! I began to feel rather angry with the darling who is the object of my affections.

with Martyn.

John wanted Mum and Dad to babysit for JPH but they're out tonight with Sue, Pete and the Nason's to Flashman's. Lynn and Dave offered to 'sit' instead and David drove down to Silverdale Dr and came back ten minutes later saying Carole was going to babysit instead and that she was playing hell about me. This is the bloody ultimate!

I am not really sure what game Carole is playing but whatever it is I'm not participating.No bloody way.

Tony went to assist John & Jill Cameron move to Beverley and Martyn and I walked down to the Hare. We then went and stood in the car park at the Fox and Hounds where an incident of horrific proportions took place. George and Jane pulled in followed by John and Maria and on seeing us they all drove straight out of the car park and back up the road. Is this Carole Phillips's polluted mind for you? Is she now poisoning John & Maria?

On the bus taking us back to White Cross we encountered a band of drunken youths who indecently exposed themselves to the queue of people at Harry Ramsden's. Amazing. Back home through Tranmere. I uprooted a 'No Tresspassing' sign and I told Martyn just where I intend to insert it. Or perhaps I should say in whom I intend inserting it.

We watched a Dracula film and then a Frankenstein film. Retired to bed at 3am. Martyn slept on a camp bed in my room.

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Sunday May 25, 1975

Trinity Sunday. Day Three at Grassington: Nice day. Beautiful weather, though probably just a bit windy. After waking up at the same hideous, and unusual time as yesterday we once again partook of a fried breakfast, which isn't agreeing with John at all.

We intended going off to Malham, but because of the time we changed our minds and decided to go swimming at Skipton Baths. Spend a good afternoon in Skipton, and feel greatly rejuvenated after my first splash around in a pool for what seems like decades.

Back at the tent we lounge around in deckchairs listening to the Top 20 on Radio One. Well, Pete and myself did this. John and Chris were busy frying tea.

After the traditional fried meal we bung a few stones in the river and collect wood for another camp fire and generally prepare ourselves for the coming onslaught of alcohol.

To Linton and Grassington drinking. John is back on form again and we manage to deplete the beer stocks of several Yorkshire pubs.

The second camp fire proved successful again, but we are all melancholy because it's our last night. Chris was acting daft when he saw the full moon, complaining that he believed in the likes of Dracula and other creations of Hammer Horror Inc. & Warner Brothers. It was impossible to make him see reason. We ate baked potatoes on the fire, and argued whether Princess Anne had done the right thing by marrying Mark Phillips.

Bed at 2.30.

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Friday August 9, 1974

Rains like hell all day. Get soaked to the skin whilst walking up Hawksworth Lane.

Gerald Ford became president of the United States at noon today. Can't say I know anything about the bloke really but I suppose he'll do a good job till election time in '76.

Dave L collects John and I at 8.0 and we go to the Hare. Everyone comes too and we remain until 10.30 when we all - except Chris - go back to Dave B's for a so-called party. Peter Mather and I go to Harry Ramsden's first where I see Ronnie, who is having a night free from the clutches of Lynn. Back to Dave's in a torrential downpour for 11. See Christopher Lee in "Dracula - Prince of Darkness" - a load of old rubbish which wastes the best part of two hours. After seeing tv we play tapes, and Denny gets stoned on a full bottle of Dave L's port. "Al Capone" a reggae record will forever be imprinted upon my mind. Don't drink much really and actually tip one whisky down the sink because it makes my stomach feel suicidal. Peter takes Denny home (or so I'm told) and Andy and Linda go too. John, Dave L, Dave B and I sit listening to rubbish like Diana Ross till after 3. Home in torrential rain - again and to bed immediately. Feel uncertain about Scarborough tomorrow.

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