Wednesday April 11, 1979

_. Warmer today, but still damp. Lynn came from her weekly shopping extravaganza at Morrison's and remained to dinner. David B came from the office seething with rage and hate after a confrontation with Messers Thompson & Spencer on the topic of his diabolical salary. I do believe he receives less than me. I find this mind-boggling. It means he is running a car, a home and a wife on something like £30 a week! I shudder at this because I find it hard to get by ~ and I have no commitments at all. My £30 is beer, whore, and bus fare money. Oh dear.

To change the subject Sarah and I are back communicating with each other. We plan to go to Lanzarote together in the autumn to stay with John & Sheila. Will this come about, or am I writing balderdash in order to fill a blank page? Wait and see, but at the moment we are deadly serious.

The election campaign dominates the news. I am saying nothing, but my mind is made up, and I don't need to be convinced by any political party and so I can ignore the whole thing until May 3.

Princess Michael of Kent has named her son Frederick. I am quite taken aback by this. It hasn't been used as a first Christian name in the Royal Family since Frederick Augustus, Duke of York [1763-1827], the _Grand Old Duke of York_ the second son of George III. Before him we had Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales [1707-51] who is the new baby's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Of course, George III was George William Frederick, and George V was George Frederick Arthut George, and George VI was Albert Frederick Arthur George. So it isn't altogether an alien name. Princess Michael's brother is Baron Frederick von Reibnitz.

Retired to bed at 1:00am.

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Tuesday April 3, 1979

_. Auntie Hilda phoned today to say Karen and Steve are going out babysitting on Saturday and so we cannot have the Grand Gadsby-Rhodes reunion this time. Thwarted again. She told Mum that cousin Derek's wife, Jennifer, is expecting her second baby in November. Karen phoned at 7:30 to say we can all have the great gathering on April 14, which is the day before Easter. I readily agree, and communicate this news to Sue. Mum and Dad with Hilda and Tony are probably going to stay with Ruby and Arthur for Easter, and so the house at Pudsey will be void of parents and eligible for an orgy. Alison is also coming for Easter, and so she'll be included in the party. Gosh, I can hardly wait.

At about 8:30 in walked John and Sheila, from Lanzarote, with Valerie and her boyfriend Graham, a law student at Nottingham Polytechnic. It was such a surprise because we haven't seen them since Christmas, 1977, and following the boycotting of Lynn's wedding, I thought we'd seen the last of them.

Uncle John is just the same self-assured, suave businessman. He never has a penny but is always on the verge of making a fortune. The gold mine is always just around the corner.  At 11pm they run Valerie and Graham to Harrogate, and then come back to stay the night with us. We discussed Lanzarote and our wayward, insane family. From Blackpool to Selby and from the Canary Isles to Stranraer we are making our mark on the world.

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Monday January 22, 1979

The NUJ decided to come out of hibernation today for the first time since the beginning of December. The country is grinding to a halt. I can name the industries that are not on strike on the fingers of one hand. Mr Callaghan will have to go.

Callaghan: shitting himself at No. 10...

Read Richard Crossman's 1966-68 diaries and find his comments on the Queen interesting. Look them up for yourself if you are at all interested.

One of the Sunday papers did an article on Crossman's relationship with Callaghan, who was Home Secretary and then Chancellor (of the Exchequer) from 1964-70. Quite disturbing, and I bet that the PM is now shitting himself at No. 10. He (Callaghan) is not good in a crisis, is one of Crossman's statements.

John Edward Rhodes.

We have received a letter from John & Sheila in Lanzarote. We can go out there for £30 at three days notice which sounds good. By the sound of things they are the only English speakers on the island. John is doing a lazy, pleasurable job whilst Sheila runs around the volcano fifteen times a day driving holiday-makers from the airport to half-built hotels. She has always carried John through life. I know I have delusions of grandeur, but I think John Edward Rhodes is an even bigger dreamer.



Back from the YP at 5:30 to find Sue, Lynn and Alison with Mama. The girls had been at the Black Bull in Otley all afternoon (market town pubs open until 4pm) celebrating Monday. Lynn had consumed eight pernods. Mum said afterwards that she worries about Lynn drinking.

Watched the telly until 11:30 then to bed with a mug of Ovaltine and the Rt Hon Richard Crossman, Lord President of the Council.

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Wednesday January 25, 1978

Conversion of St. Paul.

No holiday news today because the magical Michelle is taking a day off. I spoke to Denise on the blower, a very brief conversation, because she was being stampeded under foot by milling, holiday-crazed Bradford folk.

I am battling along with 'Whose Body?' by Miss Sayers. I've glanced at Edward VI too.

Dad phoned John and Sheila because they are supposed to be heading for a new life in the Canaries tomorrow, but they've postponed their departure for a fortnight. Is he going to go at all? One certainly wonders. We have heard of great prospects before regarding Uncle John. He is however, a wonderful guy.

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Friday January 20, 1978

Snow, ice and generally an anti-social climate. I am going to join (Uncle) John in Lanzarote, Canary Islands.

David G.

Dave G makes a state visit to Pine Tops once again. The summer holiday is the main topic of the weekend conference. Poor David is more bald than ever.

We went to the Fox and Hounds where Pete M, Chris and Steve Hudson were assembled. They brought the news that they are not joining us abroad this year. Peter Aristotle Niarchos Mather Onassis, Junior cannot afford to go!! Obviously, I believe him. Chris has plans to go on a walking holiday in South Wales and visit an elderly maiden aunt in Canada. He too must have lost a slate or suddenly developed an aged attitude. Steve was his normal, pleasant, quiet self. _______. Martyn, we are told, is still in the running. ______. Home at 11:30 to a wine tasting session. We go to Bradford tomorrow to sort out the holiday 'problem'.


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Tuesday December 27, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland and Wales.

I failed to mention that Helen (the Mrs Helen Malin) and I had another bet yesterday. After paying her the £1 note for 1975 bet we placed another wager. She says Her Majesty will abdicate by January 1, 1981. I have obviously won this one. She (Helen, not the Queen) has moved to Peterborough and a four bedroomed house. I'm invited whenever I fancy going.

Up at 9:30 and cleared the devastation with Dave. Sandra and Miss LD are smoking and lounging like Roman whores whilst we slave. Dave taped some of my records and I made breakfast. I was home by 11:30. No hangover or touch of the squelches. The Lawson coffee liqueur usually loosens everything nicely.

Spent the day at home chiefly discussing the events of last night with the girls. I do love David's Christmas parties.

(Uncle) John, Sheila and Valerie came at 6:30 and for six or seven hours we sampled the wine and forced food down ourselves. Disgusting really. (Uncle) John became greatly pissed and was very amusing. He invited us all to his Canary Island home and even suggested to Lynn & Dave that they should honeymoon there. Good, eh? The only sad thing about all this is that Windsor will never be the same again. Valerie is nice. To bed at 2:00am with the horror of work stretching before me. Ghastly. Tomorrow will be hideous I know.

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