Sunday January 23, 1977

3rd after Epiphany. Wake up at a late hour once again and Peter plays, loudly, an LP of military marches on his stereo. The three of us discuss Peter's bowels, &c. He tells us that his grandmother died at 4.30 this morning. I am embarrassed. What can I say? Should I dress in a black pullover and sing lamentations of mourning? Or do I ignore the situation? Mr Mather showed no emotion, and the whole family looked happier than usual. They seem to think that the old girl is better off out of it. At 80 she's had a good innings anyway.

In bed at Ty-Onnen

After a ridiculously late breakfast Peter, Chris, Lynne and I go to a remote forest (Dalby?) which seems miles away, and where Peter attempts to feed a bunch (or whatever the collective noun is) of ducks, over-fed ones too. To be honest, they didn't touch a crumb which was a bit 'off'' really because I expected more from them after we'd trailed half way across North Yorkshire just to see them.

Chris Ratcliffe, the Horsforth banker.

Back to Ty-Onnen for dinner and then on to Pickering cinema to see 'Josie Wales'. Yes, I've seen this one before too. Lynne stayed at home complaining of a headache and saying she was going to brush up on her Spanish. Christopher decided to return home tonight and I decided to accompany him. Fog. Back at Pine Tops for 12.30. Have a letter from Uncle Harry with details of his mother's birth-place &c, and details of the Upton family. Uncle H is brilliant.

Sunday December 19, 1976

4th in Advent. Devour a fried breakfast and then go to Thornton-le-Dale. Believe it or not I have no hangover and feel fit, vital and active. Poor Lynne is very different indeed. Three anadins later and she's still pale and tired.

I remember few of the Lazenby party details but Lynne tells me that at one stage of the evening a dwarf had my flies down in an attempt to perform a sex act upon my person - much to the amusement of the other guests. The lad didn't have to kneel down evidently. For Christ sake, I've heard it all now! Nice to know I brought a bit of joy into the miserable existence of one of our shorter beings.

Life at Thornton-le-Dale is much the same as it's always been and I cannot be bothered to comment further. Went to Pickering for a drink with Pete M and Chris and discuss the holiday [I left Lynne at home]. Pete said _______.Would I want to go on holiday with somebody who isn't perfect fun?




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Saturday November 6, 1976

More tales of the lives of everyday country folk at Thornton-le-Dale. Up at lunchtime and get under the feet of Mr Mather and Pete as they demolish a wardrobe, or something. They push me into the lounge where I watch Tallulah Bankhead in an episode of 'Batman'. Hasn't she been dead for eight or nine years?

Eventually Lynne gets up and when she is ready the two of us go to Pickering [or perhaps Malton?] for a couple of hours. Pouring rain. Have a pint in a grotty pub and purchase a £2 box of chocolates for Sarah's birthday. Back home for tea. We prepare to go out, and Peter tags along and the three of us go to the nice pub with the juke box. [Am I not a vague old sod?] Back home with Peter at 11pm, and after dumping him Lynne and I go to the Bali Hai at Scarborough. A great time. Good music. Lynne always seems surprised when I get up and dance. Why is this? Am I considered to be some sort of cretin? Who has been spreading malicious rumours about my capabilities?

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Saturday October 9, 1976

Lynne lands at Yeadon Airport at 3.30pm. Donald & Vera Mather and Karl came 10 minutes before the plane landed and Brigadier Kenneth Hargreaves, Lord Lieutenant for West Yorkshire, represented the Queen. The massed bands of Princess Patricia's Own Light Infantry serenaded Lynne's arrival with the lament 'The Flowers of the Forest'.

To Thornton-le-Dale. Peter and Chris were already at Ty-Onnen on our arrival and we all settle down to a meal at 7 o'clock. Tia Maria flowed like water. [Tia Maria is water, isn't it? - Editor].

Romantic night in Pickering with Lynne, Peter and Mr Rat. Pickering is hardly the Soho of the north, but we had a good laugh all the same. Peter is so narrow mined though. [That's beside the point, Michael. Let's not get rude about the brother of the lady you happen to love]. Back at 11 o'clock to watch Phyllis Diller on TV, then Michael Parkinson and Wilfred Hyde White and the late Vincent Price. Also saw a Googie Withers epic until 2am by which time Lynne had fallen into a coma and only Mr Mather and Mr Rat survived. Sad eh?

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