Wednesday March 10, 1976

Mum woke me at 6am while she was struggling to the bathroom on one leg like Long John Silver. Of all the times to be rendered crippled! I can forsee her being carried down the aisle on a stretcher on Saturday which, if nothing else, will raise a few laughs from our sadistic, insane family.

It rains slightly as Jim and I drive to Leeds but it clears up. I hate rain.

It is rewarding to see the Union Jack hoist up outside the YP because I am responsible for supplying Tom Lambert with the up-to-date list of flag flying days. Today is Prince Edward's 12th birthday. If I hadn't stopped him Tom would have had the flag fluttering on the mast on March 31 for Prince Henry, Duke of Gloucester. When Tom asked me why we don't fly it for Henry anymore I had to answer in very simple terms: 'He's dead Tom, that's why.'

Home for chicken which was cooked by Dad. John is still behaving strangely and is very bad tempered. Must be his way of showing he's just as nervous as the rest of us.

The wedding rehearsal tonight at Burley-in-Wharfedale, but when we get to the church it is all in darkness. John comes tearing down the road to say it's all off. We think he means the wedding is off, but it's only the rehearsal. Father Scannell has forgotten all about it and has gone off with his brother. The silly old boy is over 70 and seems to be on the verge of senility.

John, Lynn and I go in the spitfire to the Hare. We are all nostalgic. Lynn says it's the last pre-wedding drink we'll have together. The three of us then went to Maria's and chat until 11.30 or so.

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Friday November 7, 1975

I don't really feel like saying the usual things about the time I 'got up' or the flavour of the cheese I devoured in my sandwiches this lunchtime. To be honest, it's now 3am on the morning of November 9. I'm just back from the Cow & Calf if you must know, but I'd better say something about what happened on this date before I go off into paroxysms about other more interesting things.

Went to Carole's at 8.15. Her eye (the left one)is all bandaged up. Evidently, it swells up with migrane and is too unsightly to leave unmasked for any length of time. We go over to the Hare where she receives all the usual cracks: "where's your parrot?" and "Look at Long John Sylvia!". We have a good time and go back to her place at 11.15 where we see the end of The Avengers.

I gave Carole 2 letters. One dealing with the CB Affair. She is a darling through and through, is Carole.

Reflections: Am I lagging behind? Have I missed the bus, as it were? Friends getting engaged and driving around in cars whilst I plod along with public transport and a gorgeous girlfriend who won't stay with me for much longer when she gives up hope of ever finding happiness with a self-seeking, arrogant, vain, callous cynic like wot I am. I know it's harsh but it's all so true. Something must be done I know, but what? OK, I'm mad, but what else do you expect? Besides, you can't be all that intelligent if you're wasting your time reading a load of clapped-out rubbish like this. Haven't you anything better to do? For God's sake, pull yourself together. Don't give up just because I have!!!


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