Sunday September 16, 1979

_. Up at 10 to mix cement again. Quite hungover. The brickies have now completed the footings of the kitchen extension. Lynn and Susan spent the morning scrubbing the interior of the caravan when it didn't really need it. The usual bacon sandwiches and soup was laid on. The whole atmosphere resembled war-torn Britain with everyone pulling together in comradeship and facing the hardship and toil together and without division. _______.

Rain came in the afternoon and we retreated to the caravan and an Erroll Flynn film on the telly. John was looking dejected at the thought of our imminent departure, and a silence fell. David had a sleep in the afternoon in preparation for the journey home. _______. we arrived home at 9, after having fish and chips in Grassington. Mum and Dad were strangely quiet. Dad has been a policeman for 22 years today, and is to receive a medal for long service.

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Sunday November 27, 1977

Advent Sunday. My eyes were opened to the principal bedroom of the Ratcliffe residence and Mr Mather's gaping mouth and Mantovani on the stereo playing 'Greensleeves' and then 'My Love is Like a Deep Red Rose'. All very nauseating. Peter George Mather, Esq is indeed a weird bundle of male. His eccentricities are numerous:

1). He persists in the wearing of the article of underclothing known as the VEST.
2). He wears his hair in the style of a lieutenant in Princess Patricia's Own Right Knee and Underskirt Regiment.
3). His bizarre musical tastes not only feature Mantovani and Max Jaffa, but Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson and Des O'Connor, &c.
4). His choice of footwear is indescribable.
5). His overall appearance is that of a 1958 bank clerk.
6). Sexually, he's a three year-old.
7). Sexually, he thinks he's a combination of Ryan O'Neal, Casanova, Mick Jagger, the Sex Pistols and Erroll Flynn.
8). He enjoys those archaic boys 'comics' like Hotspur.
9). Everybody's mother simply adores him.
10). If he'd been born American Mrs Edith Blackwell would campaign to have him elected president.

Peter: 1958 bank clerk.

Peter drove me home at 1:30. Shortly afterwards I went with Lynn, Mum and Dad to look at 34, Town Street, Guiseley, which is for sale. A poky, tiny little place but very 'country cottage with roses round the door' type of place. David is, I think, going to 'make an offer for it' as they say in the house buying business.

Back for luncheon and then collapsed in a chair by the fire with my knees firmly under the television set. The series 'Royal Heritage' featured George IV. Later, a Phyllis Diller film.

To bed at 12:00 with 'The Count of Monte Cristo'. Bloody Hell, I expect a visit any day from Alexandre Dumas to fill me in on where I'm missing the point. Oh, hang on, there goes the doorbell. He's here now. Come in, Alex! Sit down and take the weight off your Three Musketeers.

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Sunday January 18, 1976

2nd Sunday after Epiphany. I wake at 11am and lay about in bed listening to the radio for an hour. John's bed is still in the same condition it was in at 2 o'clock this morning - unslept in, and I assume that he spent the night at Maria's.

Mum and Dad go off for the afternoon at 12 and Lynn and Dave follow in the same pattern shortly after.

Susan is down at Peter's, and I am left quite alone until Carole comes up at 3pm. I make bacon, sausages and toast for lunch and listen to records until 2, when an Erroll Flynn film based on the 1745 rebellion is screened on the BBC in glorious technicolour. Carole came at 3, and Sue and Peter followed shortly afterwards.

We didn't say much all day really. I can honestly say the more I see her the more I feel we should make a complete break of it. After all, six months is about as much as any man can stomach - when 20 years old anyway.

Miss Linda Smith rang at 6pm to warn me to be 'prompt' at her 21st birthday party on Saturday._________.

We (Carole and I) stay in to watch another film on the BBC and David takes her home at eleven o'clock. No doubt Carole had another good weep on Dave's shoulder when he dropped her at her house. I'll have to question him about it on the morrow.

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Sunday September 14, 1975

16th after Trinity. Up at around 11am and have a little breakfast. John and I go to the Commercial just after 12 o'clock, but no one else comes. Talk with Ron about bar work, and stay until about 1.30. Drink Stella Artois lager, which is tremendous stuff. Home at 1.30 for a lovely lunch.

Laugh at a ridiculous Erroll Flynn film on the BBC - 'Robin Hood' or something, and then John takes me down to Carole's at 4.30 whilst Mum and Dad sleep soundly in the lounge.

Carole and I go for a walk over the moor, and I feel dog-tired. Drinking at lunchtime must do it, because I'm not normally so dull on an afternoon. A beautiful afternoon, though at times it is biting cold. We sit for 30 minutes or so on a grassy bank in Hawksworth and watch the clouds drift overhead. The scenery is marvellous and only ten minutes walk from home. How lucky we country-dwellers are.

Back to Pine Tops for tea and John and Maria join us. At 8.30 we go with Mum and Dad to the Hare & Hounds, and we stay until 10.30. They are getting all sorts of people to promise to come to the New Inn if we get it. I walk Carole home and then go back with Mum & Dad - getting fish and chips on the way.

Carole looked a bit peaky later on tonight, and I fear she's far from well yet. Poor Darling Creature.

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