Tuesday March 28, 1978

Annunciation (transference)

Jacqui

Phoned Jacqui today. She isn't coming up now until next Monday. This is better I suppose because now it won't clash with Dave's weekend of sin and debauchery. She had a good Easter. Last night Chris attempted to draw information of Jacqui's move northward from me. He didn't get much. He said he could foresee 'Ding Dong Merrily on High' for us in the near future. Whether this refers to a marriage or a premature Christmas I'm unsure. ________________________. I do think a lot of our Jacq and regard her as a leading contender for my hand. But you know what I'm like. I'll probably be 80 before anyone traps me.

Winding my way home this evening I encountered the recumbent form of the Rev. Downing. He was bent tearing up dandelion leaves on Hawksworth Lane. He held me in conversation for ages on the subject of my writing. The dear old man described my 'epistle' to Naomi  accepting the invitation to her 21st birthday party as a 'brilliant piece of work'. I cowered in my modesty as he went on to say I should take up writing on a permanent basis. He asked me, midst the dandelions, why I am not a journalist. I told him it didn't appeal to me. Crikey, Bernard Shaw and Noel Coward were not NUJ members and I don't think it held them back. I said I'd like to be an author and was surprised that he didn't laugh hysterically ~ he just nodded thoughtfully and said what a good idea it was. This makes me think seriously about my 'talent' when ageing theologians and academics express delight at my shoddy, cheap, vulgar 'epistles'. I can appreciate my own friends being amused, because nobody writes these days.


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Saturday August 24, 1974

Believe it or not I think now that I could quite easily have any girl I wanted. Even Sarah isn't such a fantastic possibility as I would have thought only a week ago. God! Stop me if I become vain, arrogant and big-headed.

One year ago today Miss Bottomley finished with me. obviously, you are all sick of hearing about this infantile relationship, but it had an extremely deep impact upon my life, which I cannot ignore. I'd have thought that it occurred two years ago. These past 12 months certainly have dragged by.

Get up at 10. Do nothing all morning other than go for my first car ride with John. We go to collect Sue from the hairdressers.

Chris calls on us at about 3pm and we sit in front of the TV watching 'Blithe Spirit', the brilliant film adapted from the play of the same name by Noel Coward.

John took the car out on his own for the first time and we experienced something horrific. Going to the Hare and Hounds at 9 everyone decided to move on to the Commercial & we all departed. On the road to Esholt Dave missed the bend in the road and crashed. He went through his windscreen - wrecking the car but only slightly injuring himself. He could quite easily have been killed. We are all shaken up. From around 9.20 to 10.30 we hang round the car whilst Dave cleans himself up in the Commercial. Poor Carol was shaken.

See TV. Christine Dibb is staying the night and we all retire at about 1am.

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Thursday April 19, 1973

Dad, scraping old paint off one of the doors, awoke me at 11.10. Sadly, I have been very disappointed with Dad lately, and have come to the conclusion that Stalin's Russia can have been no worse than 58, Hawksworth Lane, Guiseley. Rather stupidly, today I made a terrible boob. Yes, I forgot all about Rule 17 Sub-Section 2c, which states quite clearly: "All watching of television is strictly prohibited between the hours of 8am and 6pm." Those contravening this rule are regarded as "moronic, uncultured people". Rule No 3 section 12B states: "Persons at all times must be doing something useful. No rest is tolerated. Lieusure is to be frowned upon." It just so happens that I broke rule 17 Sub Secrion 2c to watch the film version of Noel Coward's "Astonished Heart" at 3pm. On finding me in from the of the tv Dad proceeded to read the Riot Act. The film was also the cause of concern. He regards the works of Noel Coward as upper middle-class propaganda. Had it been the life story of Clement Attlee rule 17 may have been repealed. Not that I would have broken Rule 17 anyway if Clement's life had been placed on film. Anyway, he got his own way and I turned off the television. I continued with Anthony Eden until tea time. Watched Top of the Pops. John decided to come out with me - the first time since January. He wore his bags and my suit jacket. Mum said he looked very unusual dressed up. We went on the 7.30 55 bus. On our arrival June was already inside - she was surprised to see John. She thinks he looks like Michael Stott. Sue B arrived 20 minutes later after jilting poor Keith in Horsforth. She takes an immediate fancy to John. and they discuss the ins and outs of brick-laying and joinering etc. Sue is training to be an architect. Sadly, she accidentally knocked a drink all over a pretty looking Pakistani girl - and embarrassment almost killed her. She left very quickly afterwards. June was mad with her and thinks that John might be offended by Sue's early departure. Ivy thought I was "bonnie" until she laid eyes on John. I am very glad. I don't fancy the prospects of going through life "bonnie." Ivy did go on to say how John and I look so much alike! I would never say that we looked alike, but everyone is entitled to their own opinions. June thought he was sweet. We went out for the 11.10 bus. John went to the chippy. The bus came on time. We kissed goodnight. A very enjoyable evening. --==--