Showing posts with label john little. Show all posts
Showing posts with label john little. Show all posts

20131129

Saturday November 4, 1978

Sun rises 06:59 Sun sets 16:29

Up at 9:30 and after breakfast went to Lawn Road with Mum & Dad. Lynn was at the hairdressers and Dave, Dad and I made some structural alterations to the residence whilst Mama got a blazing fire going. Dad and Dave did some work putting the kitchen door into position and I painted everything in sight.

Lynn came in like a Goddess at 12 and immediately dragged Mum off into Burley. They staggered back a couple of hours later quite sozzled. They informed us that they'd met a man called Gordon, suffering from Parkinson's Disease, who would be dropping in on us later with a selection of bottles of his home~brewed cider. A likely story.

Jacq came at 2:30 and we had a good lunch. I'm surprised the ladies managed to cook it. Javq was wearing a new pink creation.

At 4 Mum and Dad left and we sat listening to music. Lynn was pissed and really in her element. At 6:30 we, the four of us, got a bus to Guiseley with every intention of attending John Little's bonfire at Green Bottom School, but on arriving we were told the entry fee was £1.75 per family. Lynn told the bemused man on the desk that we are not actually a family, but that we do all love one another.

We walked through the Bonfire night smoke and smog, and baked potato fumes to the White Swan at Yeadon. Lynn and Dave had come out without any cash and felt guilty about being parasites on their elder brother and benefactor. We had a few drinks and inspected the bonfire there. What has become of Bonfire Night? Am I getting old so that I don't see or observe the things that children delight in any more? I hope not. The days of the one penny (old money) banger are gone forever.

At 10 we went for a bus back to Burley and waiting at the bus stop for an hour. It was like a scene from a Greek tragedy and to be honest it made the whole evening. Lynn carrying on like Sarah Bernhardt. We laughed and joked ridiculously to the extent that the traffic was swerving to avoid us. Elderly ladies were peeping at us from bedroom windows.

A bus came at 11 and we headed back to Burley. Bit of an anti-climax really. Sandwiches, coffee and a 1943 John Mills film isn't exactly what I call a proper Saturday night. I suppose it cannot be a riot every week.

Lynn and Dave went off to bed before John Mills, in his submarine, had the time to sink the Brandenberg, and I fell asleep. Jacq and I 'kipped' on the sitting room floor with our heads pointing towards the dying fire embers. _______.

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20130619

Saturday June 10, 1978

Sun rises 04:44 Sun sets 21:16

Birthday of Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh

At 3:30pm I met Jacq in Guiseley and we tracked down John and Maria at Ridgeway. Maria's parents are visiting Hugh in Canada. Jimmy Mac took some photos of me and Jacq and that was the only bit of excitement other than watching JPH attack an ice lolly. Maria was looking tanned but I was told it's painted on. She'd forgotten to do one of her legs. From 4 until after 6 we sat with John, Maria and Pamela Horrocks (nee Moffat). I was bored but the ladies didn't notice my yawns through the blanket of smog and coal dust thrown out by their endless 'assembly line' of cigarettes. Jacq must have had 10.

By 6pm my polluted lungs could take no more and I dragged Jacq back to Pine Tops for sandwiches. At 8pm Jim and Margaret came and after watching 'The Good Life' on the BBC we went with them and Mama and Papa to a barbecue on Carlton Lane (at Penny's Farm?). Alcohol flowed like pig swill. Our party managed to consume most of it. Sue, Pete, Gus and Chippy were there. The food was mediocre but the company was interesting with such old cronies as John Little, Joan Taylor (Kevin's mother), &c. In fact, all the old Silverdale mob appeared. Jacq, Sue, Pete and I were among the last to leave and Mum and Dad tottered out (both really legless) shortly before us. We were in high spirits. We got home safely enough ( I don't know how) and we immediately plugged in the headphones, selected a suitable record and poured out of the lager.

Mum was locked upstairs in the WC for two or three hours (Oh dear) and so Jacq was forced, much against her will, to urinate in our well stocked herbaceous border. How embarrassing. I had to do the same, but on opening the kitchen door I espied the car abandoned on the drive and I was temporarily distracted from the call of nature. It was the car. It had a huge hole in the right hand wing and a considerable amount of paint was missing. Oh no! But who drove home?

It was almost dawn when Mum alighted from her watery throne and she admits the culprit is she, although she cannot recall striking anything. Obviously, it was a dry stone wall. Dad, who had been too pissed, had handed her the car keys.

Mum was soon in floods of tears. Jacq always sees her in this sorry condition.

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Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...