Showing posts with label economic crisis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label economic crisis. Show all posts

20110930

Monday November 8, 1976




Boring, miserable day. I am pleased to be able to say that the government may have to go. The pound is now worth two pesetas and even as I write, it is falling to one and a half. It seems to me that each time our beloved Chancellor of the Exchequer farts the whole economy quivers and slides a little more into the abyss of Hell and Damnation. Margaret Thatcher must be out of her mind wanting to take on this country in its present condition. The Queen, very wisely, has escaped from this ruined nation to Luxembourg. I could quite understand Her Majesty if she decided not to bother coming back. She cannot be all that proud being sovereign of such a third rate nation. Our bloody economy is about equal to that of Namibia.

Lynne comes up at 8 with my wallet and pair of shoes. She only stays minutes because Lil will have her tea on the table.

Read 'Edward VIII' by Lady [Frances] Donaldson. As you are no doubt well aware by now he [the king] is one of my favourite historical characters. I cannot understand the guy at all. Is this why I am forever reading about him?

PS - don't think I'm looking for sympathy but I have a ghastly hangover all day. The wine, you know.

-==-

20090514

Friday December 14, 1973

Uncle Tony 'caught up' with Mother today. He's 38. Haven't seen him or the family since October. This time of the year tends to be a bad one for Auntie Hilda, who becomes depressed at the thought of spending money at Christmas. At the moment her main worry is Uncle Tony. Will he or will he not lose his job in the current economic crisis? We all know he won't, but Auntie Hilda doesn't. She's never content with life like Mum is. Not at all like sisters really. 

 Chris rings at about 7. Meet at the Emmotts at 9 o'clock. Martin Vere-Bujnowski and little Helen join us, with no Laura for a change. She's gone to a disco with Philip Cartwright. Martin and I discuss the party tomorrow evening. He thinks it'll be an absolute orgy... five of each sex... can you blame the poor boy's mind for thinking that way? All get merry. Leave Emmotts at 11.10. Bus home. 

 -==-

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...