Wednesday April 6, 1977

Lynn took her driving test and passed at the first attempt. The only member of the family to do it in one go. Papa, John and Mama are all second timers. Blimey, Good Old Lynn! Just Sue and me left to get out on the open road.

Lynn: virtually hysterical.

It's pay day today for some obscure reason. Usually we get paid on a Thusday. Is the Queen the only person allowed to dish out money on Maundy Thursday?

Home at 5.30 to a joyous tea. Lynn was virtually hysterical at her success. Euphoric - that's a good adjective too.

Tony: sober at the wheel.

Tony rings at 6. To the Hare and Hounds with him and Martyn. Not the usual Hare and Hounds. One in Bradford (Heaton?). Martyn and I got a bit pissed, and then on to dear Oakwood Hall with a sober Tony at the wheel. Picked up a couple of silly girls who proceeded to lock themselves out of their car and then tell us they're married. Twats. I hate women like that. Home at 1.30 because Tony was nearly asleep.














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Monday March 28, 1977

More snow, hail and blizzards. I progress across Leeds resembling something similar to a yeti. (He is, of course, the nasty Abominable Snowman).

Yeti.

Work was uneventful, as usual.  Only Sarah, Eileen, and self. I rang Lynn about her driving test. (Cancelled because of the weather conditions). She says the experience is not unlike waiting to be executed by firing squad only to discover they're run out of bullets. I can well imagine. However, in my case the ammunition was plentiful.

Tonight at home. Auntie Mabel rang Mama to enquire about Lynn's test. Not wishing to be depressed by the BBC news I soaked in the bath for half an hour. Later saw a good film about the mafia - a black comedy - but the title escapes me.

Portland Vase.

Bed at 11.30. Did you know that Queen Elizabeth II is descended from a 19th century prime minister? Yes, in 1783 and 1807 he accepted the office from King George III. Who was he? I'll give you a clue. They named a vase after him. Another clue: he had the same name as a brand of cement. Yes, that's right you've guessed correctly. Signing off at 11.45pm precisely.








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Monday October 14, 1974

Queen Jane Seymour died 1537. James II, born 1633. Busy day at the YP. The papers are full of poor Edward Heath, who looks like he's about to have his cards thrust upon him. The Tories are a very ruthless mob when it comes to being defeated. Take poor Sir Alec Douglas-Home for example. He got the chop for losing one general election. So, now Heath's lost TWO elections, and I cannot see the Monday Club allowing their hapless leader to continue in his miserable existence.

MUM PASSED HER DRIVING TEST!! Really, I should have gone with this at the top of the page. but I forgot all about it. She rang me at work whilst I was out of the office, and passed on the joyous information to Eileen. We are all thrilled at the thought of Mum behind the steering wheel, and soon I can forsee us having four drivers in the family. Don't ring Lynne tonight, though I will do before my half-day on Wednesday in order to arrange a lunch time booze-up, or something equally entertaining.

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Sunday September 22, 1974

15th after Trinity. Up at nearly 12. Have little bacon for breakfast and discuss changing my driving test date with that of Mamas. Come upstairs and unpack and have a bath.

Today is the 26th birthday of Capt Mark Phillips. Let the Bells toll their Joyous News throughout the Kingdom! Some sort of public celebration really ought to be lavished upon the young captain who, after all, rescued Britain's favourite princess from spinsterhood.

The Gadsbys come after tea, and John and I go to the Hare in the 1100 after collecting Carol from her Yeadon residence.

Dave comes with Chris, and never do I fail to have hysterics when Mr Lawson is on the scene. Move on to that soddin' little pub in Askwith that doesn't sell crisps, peanuts 'or anything of that nature, sir'. Snobs! I wouldn't mind but it's only bloody Askwith, not Ascot.

Back to Westfield Fisheries where I dissolved into fits of laughter at Dave, who looking at the large, sprawling woman said: "She must eat two fish for every one she serves." Absolutely sick to death of laughing.

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Thursday August 15, 1974

Princess Anne was made a GCVO this morning - her 24th birthday. The Queen, in the citation, made reference to her daughter's "calm and braveness" throughout the kidnap attempt in the Mall on March 20, saying the same about Capt Phillips, who becomes a CVO, and Rowena Brassey, the lady-in-waiting, who becomes MVO. The lower class newspapers headed articles on this event "YES IT'S DAME ANNE", and "OH WHAT A DAME", etc. The papers no longer mention the fact that HRH is in line for the title Princess Royal. No doubt the princess dislikes this style and will not let Her Majesty revive it. Mind you, it is dowdy sounding for a young woman I do suppose.

Warm day. Sunny, but windy. Nothing of interest at the YP except my pay. Home at 6. Denny finally sent me the letter she owes me, and I decide to write back immediately. Mum is still not pleased about me going camping on Saturday, though she leaves the whole affair entirely in my hands.

John takes his driving test tomorrow and I only hope for the honour of the family that he will pass this time. He can do no more than try though. To change the subject, I now feel as though I made a mistake treating Judith Beevers the way I did. Recently I've missed our little 'tete-a-tetes' in front of the TV or in front of the TR6 - and in my own silly way I must have fancied her. Keep wondering whether or not to ring her. Don't suppose I will do. Hell, aren't I a burke when it comes to women? Look at the Bottomley Affair, which dragged on for months purely on my part, involving fantasies about the re-estabishment of a relationship, etc. Bloody well brainless, that's what am.

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Friday June 28, 1974

Ruddy awful day. Up with the early birds and go to the YP in high spirits. Not at all nervous about the ensuing fatal driving test. Have fish and chips at the Albion Fisheries then come home to revise the 'Highway Code' in more detail. Harry picks me up at 2.30 and I have an hour-long lesson in the Horsforth area. Back to the test station which looks official and terrifying, silhouetted against the dark, thundery, stormy summer sky. The chief examiner, a Mr Halliday, gets in the car with me and the test begins at 3.30. Terrible. Half an hour of embarrassing mistakes and idiotic manoeuvering. Back to the test station at 4 in drizzle and rain. Failed. Ah well, better luck next time. Harry comes home with me for tea and everyone offers sympathy.

Ring Marita, who sent me and John 'Good Luck' cards this morning. She offers her commiserations and says that I probably failed because it is the last working day in June, and they have a certain number of people to fail, etc.

Go to the Hare and Hounds at 8. All the gang come. Meet Judy at 9.30. We stay at the Hare before moving on to Wikis, where the three of us, John, Judy and I, spend a pleasant evening. Home at 1.30 and Judy and I stand leaning against the car and discussing all manner of things. Bed at 2. Judy is certainly a lot nicer without Jackie, who can be very overpowering.

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