Showing posts with label keighley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label keighley. Show all posts

20090603

Friday February 8, 1974

Quite a satisfactory day with very little hinderance from the girls. Frankly, Janice was being most civil with me for a change. Kathleen seemed a little bogged down with work, but I suppose the head of a department does tend to take on more responsibilities.

Have a funny afternoon. Laugh ourselves silly when we hear that the miners are still going on strike although they have no Government to argue with. The General Election isn't going to have the effect which Mr Heath thought would come about. Undoubtedly, the country falls into a worse state every day. Everyone in the Emmotts tonight agreed that the Conservatives should be re-elected, but most thought that Uncle Ted should go.

John and I get the 7.30 55 - meeting Andy on the way. Dear Christine White joins us - followed by Laura (ugh) and Paul. Chris doesn't come until after 9 o'clock. The Emmotts is packed by 9.30 and when MM and Marita come we are packed in like sardines. Helen and Keith pile in and I give her my stool, spending the remaining 45 minutes crouched on the floor near Chris and Ray. _____MM and Marita leave us and we decide where to go for the remainder of the evening. Keith mentions the 'Speak Easy' again, which was suggested last Saturday. We decide therefore to go to the 'Speak Easy' at Keighley. John and Andy go with Keith in his car. Helen and Christine go with Ray, and me and Chris go with Laura and Paul. All the way over the moors, arriving at the place at about 11. I always thought Denny was a good dancer, but Helen is also gifted here. If she wasn't going out with Keith I could quite fancy her.

The 'Speak Easy' is a brilliant spot - inexpensive and quite classy with it as well. Much better than the so-called 'Cat's Whiskers', which may as well have been named 'The Dead Bears Bum' for all I care. Dance through until 2. But John and I are mad about the drink arrangements. Everyone seemed to be buying drinks for each other and leaving dear brother and me out. Bugger them. The past months have shown that John is the only real friend I've got - the others tend to 'take the piss' out of me.

-==-

Wednesday May 2, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11 Mum. To try and keep a journal, run and pub and a baby is asking the impossible. Gone is that old wit and sparkle b...