Monday March 26, 1979

_. Are all the Daves in my journal causing confusion? I do try to put the initial of the surname of each Dave after his name in an entry, and so Dave Lawson is Dave L and Dave Baker is Dave B, &c. Dave Glynn is obviously Dave Y, and Dave Wainwright is Arthur Hailey. Prince Andrew = David Ben Gurion, and the late Duke of Windsor, always David to his family, is now Wally.

Uncle Tony's mother, Mrs Doris Gadsby, was cremated at Rawdon this morning. She died at Pudsey last Thursday. The poor old girl was deserted by her husband, Norman, in 1937, and nobody has heard of him since.

Alison phoned Lynn today. All is now over between her and John Pinder. She now wants to move back to Yorkshire and take a flat in the vicinity but until this is achieved then she will come and live with us. Isn't this exciting, folks? Our little Ally coming to Pine Tops. I informed Mama that I will write to Alison and invite her to stay with us because she is far too bashful to suggest this herself.

"Fear is realising you can't do it the second time, and panic is realising for the second time that you can't do it." Eh? I don't get that.

The poor, broken Shah [of Iran] would like to come and die of a broken heart here in Britain, but the revolting Socialist MPs are protesting. What possible harm can the old boy do? The harshness and cruelty of the jealous crew at Westminster is forever reaching new bounds. They would leap around with joy, urinating in their pin-striped trousers if the Ayatollah purchased Buckinghamshire or Chou En-Lai took over Mentmore Towers. Did anyone complain when Ben Lyon came to live here? Precisely. Besides, just think how our economy would be boosted by all those millions of Iranian rupees, or whatever the Iranian currency is. I doubt very much that His Imperial Majesty would want to live off our social security. It's a repeat of the Tsar Nicholas case in 1918.

Watched "Fawlty Towers" on the BBC ~ the last of the series which is very sad.

Peter came here at 8. Susan sat making a rug and he sat facing her in another chair. Normally they are joined together on a sofa, but I suppose we all tire of constant molestation after years and years of endless groping.

Bed at 12 with The Secret of Chimneys. Lay there listening to the wind howling outside.

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Monday March 5, 1979

_. I spent all day looking for something to buy Lynn for her birthday and finally settled upon a 'Toulouse Lautrec' Parisian-style poster. You know the one I mean. An old French tart with the top of her corset open, her tits hanging out and swimming in Pernod,  being ogled by bloated old gents in frock coats and top hats, monocles hanging everywhere.
I'm sure she'll like it. It will add to the bistro-effect of her dining room.

Saw 'Fawlty Towers' tonight. Someone should really persuade John Cleese to continue churning episodes out. So sad, isn't it, that all good things come to an end?

The dear Labour administration is five years old this week. Five wonderful years of prosperity and growth with round, fat children, all with well preserved teeth, dancing and openly rejoicing in the streets. Five years of giving so much money to old age pensioners that even now, as I sit here pen in hand, I can see a group of merry geriatrics dashing down the lane all pushing large wheel barrows crammed with crumpled old fivers. No doubt all having a Monday trip to the local rubbish tip. It's more convenient for them to dump excess cash than try and spend it. Most OAPs are too settled to become tax exiles in Juan Les Pins and St Helier.






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Monday February 19, 1979

_. A restless night. The wine at Pudsey and the late hour of retiring had a knackering effect, YP was dull.

The Duke of Westminster, possibly the wealthiest man in Britain, died today aged 68. Earl Grosvenor succeeds, and his wife, the former Natalia Phillips, is not 20 until May. When did we last have a teenage duchess, I wonder? Natalia is a daughter of Lt-Col Harold Phillips, the Queen's great friend, and a granddaughter of Lady Zia Wernher, &c. Her sister is the Marchioness of Hamilton, destined to be Duchess of Abercorn. And on the subject of duchesses I should say something about the Duchess of Kent. A few weeks ago it was reported that her figure had expanded. The Daily Telegraph even published a photo. Then, she cancelled a public engagement and instead the duke took her place. She will be 46 on Thursday. Can HRH be pregnant? I'd be surprised, but it must be remembered she had a miscarriage in October, 1977, which proves that her equipment must still be in fairly reasonable working order. I think she is too old. Besides, wouldn't it be dangerous? [You budding gynaecologists out there can probably settle this one for me].

Meanwhile, that breathing Aphrodite, Princess Michael of Kent, is laid up at Kensington Palace awaiting the birth of her first child in April.

Watched 'Fawlty Towers' tonight. John Cleese is a genius.

-=-

Sunday October 3, 1976

16th after Trinity. Don't get up until very late. Do bugger all this afternoon and we all have a very late Sunday dinner at 5.30. Too listless to go out tonight & so I attempt to get Tony's phone number by ringing Auntie Delia in order to get Carol J's number and thus, eventually, discover Mr Brotherwood's. Delia says she wants some decorating doing and I immediately offer my services. A few extra quid wouldn't go amiss. Anyway, Carol says she doesn't have Tony's phone number and I get the distinct impression that I've put my dirty great foot in it. He rings me at 6 o'clock and I tell him not to bother coming up. We're going to see 'The Omen' in Leeds tomorrow.

See 'Fawlty Towers' and a film about German POWs attempting to escape from a camp in Scotland followed by a Sophia Loren film which takes us through to midnight. No news from John today but we presume Maria is now safely housed at Otley [Hospital].

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Sunday September 19, 1976

14th after Trinity. No news from Maria. The poor little baby must be tired of waiting. It is nine or ten days late now. Will he/she come on John's 20th birthday next Saturday? Wouldn't it be great? [All say 'yes, Michael'].

All day painting my bedroom. That is 12 noon until 8.30. Dark green walls, pale green door, window, and radiator, &c. It looks smashing.

Watch John Cleese in 'Fawlty Towers' and then Richard Attenborough in '10 Rillington Place' - a film about John Christie and Timothy Evans. Good film but a ghastly story really. Lynn was frightened to death.

Sleep on a camp bed in the lounge for the fifth night in succession. Reading 'The Beatles' until after 1.30.

The Sunday papers are full of Davina Sheffield again. The future Queen returned to London from the outer Hebrides this afternoon and was met by a mob of 200 press photographers. Her future Majesty then bolted into a public convenience and remained concealed for 30 minutes until a young policeman managed to procure her escape. Everyone seems hell bent on marrying the prince & Miss Sheffield.

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Tuesday February 10, 1976

A Spring-like day and everyone seems to think that winter's gone for another year - or at least everyone in the office feels this is so.

Sarah sees in one of the papers that Elton John is on at the Grand Theatre on April 29, and after contacting the place she tells me the tickets range from £2 to £3. I shall have to contact Carole on this subject and see if she fancies seeing the midget singer in the flesh. No doubt millions of his fans will turn up on the day in question and hog all the tickets.

Keeping my ever watchful eye on the peerage I see today that a prospective duke is engaged to be married. Lord Settrington, grandson and next-but-one in succession to the Duke of Richmond is set to marry a certain Sally Clayton.

Home at 5.30 to roast beef & Yorkshire puddings with Mum, Dad, Lynn, David & John. Maria bought her wedding dress on Saturday.

David and Lynn are in a roving mood. We meet Carole and go to the Hare at 9.30 after seeing 'Fawlty Towers'. We sit for about an hour chatting about what things will be like in 40 years time and discussing Garibaldi biscuits, which Lynn has never heard of. Carole, poor soul, just cannot grasp my sense of humour at all, and at times it becomes very trying having to explain everything in great detail. Dave brings Lynn & I home at 11 o'clock and I mess about doing sod all for an hour or so.

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Tuesday February 3, 1976

Busy day at work. Kathleen gets on my nerves at times. She fusses over such ridiculous things. Frustrated - that's what she is. A man would do her the world of good. Maybe a little crude, but true.

Sarah says Delia is planning for the day when I move into her place as a lodger. I thought they were having me on about this, but I actually think they would like me to stay there Monday-Friday when Mum & Dad go to Kirby Malzeard. That's if they ever do go to the Henry Jenkins Inn.

Carole rings this evening - 8.50 actually. She has one of her headaches. These crop up every couple of months or so. I can't figure it out how they keep recurring.

George Waite calls in to see John & is surprised to hear that J is going to beat him to the altar. George is getting married on June 19.

See "Fawlty Towers" starring John Cleese which is fantastically funny. Much better than 'Monty Python' because it's much more mature.

This Jeremy Thorpe affair makes me laugh. I'll write more on the subject later, but you mark my words when I say Jeremy is more involved than he cares to admit. Much, much more.

Bed at about 11.30.



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