Monday August 2, 1976

Bank Holiday in Scotland & Irish Republic. A thoroughly miserable day at work. _____.

See two articles about the Prince of Wales and Davina Sheffield in the Sunday papers. One of them told of an incident in Devon a few days ago when the prince and Davina went down to a beach with a crate of beer accompanied only by one detective. The other was concerning an event which is alleged to have taken place on the same occasion. The prince had changed into bathing gear in a changing room and Davina went up later to change, using the mens room by mistake, and was caught in a naked state by one of the local clotted cream manufacturers who received a right eye-full. It will be a nice tale to tell if the couple ever marry.

Home at 5.15 and have a good argument over tea with Lynn, Dad and Mum. They argued that it was wrong that immigrants can get away with not wearing crash helmets because of their religion. My argument is that ones religious beliefs are more important than a ridiculous law that's been cooked up in Westminster one rainy afternoon just to pass the time. The same applies to the wearing of car seat belts. If a chap wants to risk his own life then why can't they let him get on with it? The sooner Roy Jenkins goes the better.

Mum handed in her notice this morning. Moon's Mill will certainly miss her because she's a brilliant worker and so efficient. Nothing can make her change her mind once it is made up. Prospective grandmothers shouldn't have to go to work anyway.

I was rendered speechless when, after taking my bath, I went downstairs to find Mum & Dad watching the Olympic Games on TV. When I exclaimed: "I thought they had finished yesterday?" Dad responded: "Oh yes, but now they're showing the hilights."
Oh My God. I quickly departed back to my room to read Burke's Peerage until the 9 o'clock news. Later watch Faye Dunaway and Kirk Douglas in a film until after 11, and then watch that last hour of 'Billy the Kid'. I'm addicted to the TV at the moment. The book by Trollope just does nothing for me.

-==-

Thursday July 22, 1976

Lynne M and I go into Burley-in-Wharfedale to the Red Lion for a drink and then motor down to Ilkley to the Stoney Lea for further alcoholic refreshment. Lynne and I get on famously. Very similar sense of humour.

We go to Oakwood Hall where drink gins and tonics and a quick prance about on the dance floor make it all the more of an enjoyable night. I wore my 'El Capone' T-shirt which was eyed with a certain amount of curiosity by the other patrons.

The ruddy Olympic Games are getting me down. If watching them hour after hour at home on the TV isn't enough it is just the bloody limit to go into a discotheque and find crowds of people in the bars and on the dance floors watching an under-nourished Olga Korbut leaping around a stadium as if her arse is on fire. TVs in discos must be a bad idea. Anti-social and bloody diverting they are.

Home at 1.30am.

-==-

Wednesday July 21, 1976

Susan's birthday. Climb out of the pit at 7.30 and nip into Sue's room to congratulate her on reaching the grand old age of seventeen. In half an hour I must have said 'Happy Birthday' 48,000,000 times. Like me, she isn't ecstatic about this annual event and seems sickened off when I left at 8am, because Lynn, Mum & Dad added a further 3,000,000,000 'Happy Birthdays' to my sizeable number. Sue has a nice, dry sense of humour which isn't appreciated by many - only a few great humourists - of which I am one of the greatest - revel in her quiet quips and double meaning sentences.

At lunchtime Brian rings to say he's riddled with (gastro)entiritis and dare not risk coming in (to the office) tonight. I martyr myself and offer to work until 10pm. Eleven and a half hours at work! Actually, it wasn't all that bad but by the time I got home at 10.45pm I was on the verge of starvation. Have lamb and peas and Mum, Dad, Sue and Pete, Lynn and Dave come in from the pub as I'm eating. They bring me a lager and we all sit watching the revolting Olympic Games. I added a further 27,0000,000 birthday greetings to the list, and Susan eventually escsaped to the sanctity of her bedroom - unable to tolerate any more.

The British Ambassador to Dublin was assassinated by the IRA this morning. I expect the Conservative party to suggest that Sir Harold Wilson takes up the appointment - just the sort of job for a retired Labour prime minister - amongst the rolling hills and landmines of Eire.

-==-

Saturday July 17, 1976

Go into Guiseley with Mum & Dad and get a pair of rubber soles for my new shoes. On Otley Road I meet Susan Kirk - my second cousin - with her baby brother Stuart, who is almost 3. He breaks down crying when he sees me & appears to be frightened to death. Mum & Dad laugh with Raymond - who doesn't resemble Dad in any way whatsoever.

(Family tree showing the descent of Susan Kirk & myself from Polly Upton).

See the opening of the Olympic Games in Montreal. The Queen, all in pink, seemed somewhat severe. I bet she was thinking someone was about to take a pot shot at her. These French Canadians cannot be trusted.

Considering ringing Lynne at 8.30 but Chris rings to say I'm too late because she's buggered off with her friend Jean for the evening. Chris comes up at 9.30 and we go to the Hare. John comes in on his own because Maria is feeling off colour, & Jimmy Macdonald and Peter comes too. Move on to the Rose & Crown (Ilkley) and then to a really rough dive, where I meet Barbara Woodhead. She asks me what became of Carole. When I described the events of May 4 she didn't register any surprise and says: "Oh they're all like that in that family". I feel a fool because I never realised they were so unstable until it was too late. Back to Harry Ramsden's where I have fish and chips - twice. Home at midnight feeling angry about Lynne. She shouldn't have pissed off without lettng me know.

-==-