Showing posts with label queen elizabeth II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label queen elizabeth II. Show all posts

20190524

Friday August 3, 1979

_. I'm reading more Evelyn Waugh. It's 'Brideshead Revisited' now, and I think the house is based on Castle Howard. Mr Waugh was such a brilliant geezer with a pen. Not really fashionable in the 1970s, but that's probably why I'm drawn to him.

Ally and I decided to stay at home tonight in front of a TV set. Ruby and Arthur stayed in to entertain us. Entertain isn't the word. Ruby's arthritis seemed to put a wet blanker over us all. In order to kill some of the pain in her feet she ceaselessly marches up and down the sitting room, leaning on two sticks and gasping and moaning in the process. Like a wounded animal. Poor Arthur, now 75, says they should never have travelled here.

Edward G. Robinson on the telly.

Hasn't the Queen done well in Zambia? They hail her 'Queen of the World' and everyone is saying how she helped break the ice for Margaret Thatcher, who wasn't getting on very well with Mr Kaunda at the [Commonwealth] conference.  I do wish Jim Rawnsley was the gambling type because I'd take from him every penny he's got on the subject of the monarchy. He says the UK will be a republic by 2000 and that the poor Prince of Wales will never be King. Ludicrous don't you think?

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter left for St Ives at about 11:30pm.

-=-

20170906

Friday April 27, 1979

Felt acutely rough all day. Kathleen laughed at my condition. I determine to stay by my own fireside tonight. I was horrified looking into my wallet this morning. I spent £10 last night at the Elma and at Oakwood (Hall). 

Speaking to Dave W I told him that last Thursday was my very last 'Thursday night with the lads'. ___________.

So, tonight I stuck to my resolve and sat like a chunk of vegetation before the TV set. The Queen was involved in a road accident en route from Heathrow to Windsor this evening. She wasn't injured but her chauffeur-driven Rover was badly pranged. A spokesman said Her Majesty was unshaken by the incident, but I suspect she must live in fear of kidnap by the IRA.

Bed at 1am.

-=-

20131208

Sunday November 12, 1978

25th Sunday after Trinity

7th Sunday before Christmas

Remembrance Sunday

Slept until 10:30 and then devoured breakfast. Switched on the telly to watch the Queen at the Cenotaph at 11am. Pete Sate arrived at the start of the two minutes silence so in fact we had two minutes of noise and chaos to commemorate the dead of two world wars.

Derek had me washing his Lotus (which I did willingly). I wouldn't wash any old car you know.

At 12 Jacq, Pete S and I wandered down to the real Northwood hostelry where we had a few before the 2pm curfew. Pete is 21 and recounting his adventures he makes my life sound positively 'monk~like'.

Sunday lunch was heavily punctuated with political argument. At one point Derek put it to me that I might be a socialist. I told him I am more Tory than the most far~right Tory which puzzled him. He couldn't grasp my argument. He is a stubborn man and in discussion he won't be moved by anything anybody else has to say. He and Pete squabbled about work too. _______.

Pete drove us to Victoria at 5 and we only just made it for six o'clock. The bus carrying Christine and Mrs B was pulling out of the station. I did my spectacular 'dead man lying on the floor' routine in front of the offending and already departing vehicle, to halt it's progress. But all was in vain. A bus carrying only 15 or 20 people eventually left and Jacq and I grabbed the whole of the back seat for ourselves. Uncomfortable and cold journey. Saw the hideous and ridiculous 'green beam' lighting up Oxford Street as part of the Christmas lights.

Home to a cold, wintry Leeds at just before 11. Jim and Margaret Nason are at home. Bed at 1:30.

-=-

20131114

Monday September 18, 1978

The Prince of Wales won't be too pleased if he's read in today's Times a proposal that the Queen should abdicate in 2002 (the year of her 50th anniversary on the throne) in favour of a youthful grandson! So by passing Charles in the succession. Perhaps Mr Rees-Mogg should be castrated for allowing this to pollute his newspaper.

Dave L, back for two days from Hockley Heath, phoned and asked if I'd like to accompany him and Christine to the pub tonight. I was thinking CB was still at the Italian Grand Prix, but obviously not. I phoned Jacq and asked if she'd like to come too as an alternative to doing her washing and she immediately said yes. I told her I am penniless but she says she has £6 and so we'll be able to scrape through without embarrassment.

Dave came up at 7:45 and we collected Jacq at the bus stop and then went for Christine in Horsforth. Our first port of call was the Old Ball, which is unbearable. The bar there reminds me of the school dining hall at Fieldhead. From the Old Ball we tormented the inmates of the Emmott Arms, and then we shot off to Pool~in~Wharfedale and the Half Moon._____________________________________. However, it was so good to see Dave & Christine.


-=-

20130619

Tuesday June 13, 1978

Moon's first quarter 23:44

St Barnabas (transference)

I made Dave L a birthday card today and had to wait outside next to the post box this evening holding it my hand (as well as the card) to hand it to the postman because it was too large to insert in the box. The card, made by me, has a glossy, headscarf clad photo of the smiling Queen (taken at Badminton in April) on the front. I also compiled a little verse inside. It should amuse David anyway, and one thing's fore sure ~ he won't have a duplicate of this on his doormat tomorrow morning.

Today is Lynne Mather's 21st.


To Lynne, on this, your coming of Age


O' Lynne Mather, it's your birthday once more,
And it only seems yesterday that you were four,
With big glowing teeth, and glossy hair,
you don't resemble a mountain bear.

Oh no, tis something more regal and fine,
a good Regency chair or an old gold mine?

A description of you cannot be penned,
Unless by Byron, Wordsworth and friends,
For the likes of you, will always be,
Nasty and Monstrous and crooked of knee.

-=-


20130617

Wednesday June 7, 1978

Her Majesty the Queen celebrated her (Silver) Jubilee one year ago today. Our poor, overworked monarch has a nasty duty ahead of her next week. She has to entertain the 'unspellable' president of Romania at the palace for three or four tortuous days and I don't think HM will be looking forward with an pleasure to this. Wasn't HM's great-aunt Helen, a princess of Edinburgh, and granddaughter of Queen Victoria, Queen of Romania? Helen wed into that shaky Balkan monarchy which fell in 1947. However, if the said president's visit helps Mr Callagas sell a couple of verticle take-off planes to the commies it will all have been worthwhile.

Anyway, Sarah finally got away today. Can you believe that her grandmother stood on a red table in the garden in Horsforth waving franticly as Sarah and Delia flew off from Yeadon? Such a pleasant, Goon-like sight that must have been.

The YP is hell without my whistling knee-grasping companion. Kathleen ought to retire _____________.

20130615

Saturday June 3, 1978

Sun rises 04:48 Sun sets 21:10

Hot again. I got out of bed at seven o'clock and made Jacq a cup of tea. I haven't been out of bed at this time on a Saturday for years.

Today is the Queen's official birthday. Birthday Honours: Sue Ryder is a new peeress and Freddie Laker a knight.

I took Jacq to her bus at 8:30 and walked home in the hot sunshine up Thorpe Lane. A beautiful day. A big breakfast with the family at 9:30 and then watched the Trooping the Colour on the BBC. Princess Margaret made her first public appearance since her divorce. The Queen Mother too was at Horse Guards Parade. I love the Queen Mother. She's now an institution in her own right. 'Go it, old girl!' The poor Queen must have been hot in that uniform.

At 11 Mum and Dad returned from Pudsey with my cousin Julie, who is staying the night. _________.

I met Jacq at 5:30 in Guiseley and we walked to the White Cross and sat outside in the sun. Home by 7:20 and Sarah and John Mac come. We went to the Harrogate Arms and the Damn Yankee. John and Jacq not too cheerful. Carole and Fogarty were in the Damn Yankee but we didn't speak. By 11:30 we were at home. Sarah at the end of her tether at Mr Mac's indecisiveness. In fact tempers were jagged. 

I calmed them all down with coffee and sent them home, including Jacqui.

-=-

Friday June 2, 1978

Her Blessed Majesty the Queen was crowned a quarter of a century ago this day. Jacq and I and a few close friends celebrated in the correct style. Her Majesty would be ever so proud of us if she only knew just how much we drank to commemorate this day.

Hot. Again I met Jacq at Parker's wine bar for a few beverages at 12. She was horrified today because for the first time she learned the full extent of my lack of finances. She sat reeling on the bar stool with the colour drained from her divine cheeks as I informed her I only earn £32 per week (after Mr Healey's deductions of course). She orders me to resign with immediate effect and seek employment elsewhere. It's not quite as easy as that though, is it?

At 4:30 I made good my escape from the YP.

This evening Mum and Dad gave me a lift to the Station Hotel. Jacq arrived and the two of us went to David L's where we sat with him and Mr & Mrs Lawson until Andy and Nicole arrived at 9 o'clock. From here we went to the Traveller's Rest at Crimple, near Harrogate. A riotous night followed which saw us drinking pints of beer through gaily coloured straws. Isn't it supposed to make you pissed? Haven't been to the Travellers Rest for years.

It was good to be out in David's company again. He seems to get on well with Jacq. He plans to throw his Christmas party slightly early this year ~ in August ~ because when he starts his new job December will be the busiest period. The year wouldn't be the same without a party at Tennyson Street.

We piled in back home at 11:30 to sample wine. Poor Nicole was pissed. Jacq stayed the night. She's working in the morning. We laid on the floor together reading 'The Times'. I explained to her the rudiments of newspaper librarianship. To bed at about 1am.

-=-

20130613

Tuesday May 23, 1978

Phoned Christine this afternoon and laughed about the usual things.

The so-called bus strike ended. It is estimated that it will cost ratepayers £1,000,000. I got an infernal omnibus to Guiseley for the first time in many weeks.

This evening I phoned Dave G to say the bill from Global Travel is finally in my hands. The holiday this year will cost us £176 (approx) each, and to think that in 1971 I went to Interlaken, Switzerland for a mere £40.

Dave was fine. He's looking forward with almost an insane passion to the San Antonio jaunt ~ in about seven weeks time.

Mother is still in one of her 'let's all moan at Michael' moods which doesn't do much for my patience or temper. It is equally infuriating to see Lawrence Rhodes, PC 1656, sitting through the barrage of abusive, slanderous drivel as though he is stone deaf.

I think you now have a clear picture that life isn't all roses and pea wine here at Pine Tops. However, I suppose things could be much, much worse. __________.

Whilst Her Majesty the Queen is in Bonn, over in London Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon are about to be divorced. The petition is due to be heard tomorrow and the £16 'quickie' will set a precedent in the Royal House of Windsor that will not please many people. If I were a bishop I can tell you that I'd be bombarding The Times with lengthy epistles on the sanctity of family life.

-=-

Monday May 22, 1978

Full Moon 17:14

Overcast sort of day. I phoned Christine after lunch to say I stood outside her house at some ridiculous hour on Saturday morning in a feeble attempt to attract her attention. We laughed a good deal. Her car is having its MOT this week and so we are not having our weekly orgy. She was out with Carl or Karl on Saturday which confirms Jacq's report of seeing a man in her car on the night in question.

I also rang Michelle at Smith's and she broke the news to me that the bill for the holiday is in the post. More money to pay out.

Mum had her usual weekly 'go' at me over dinner. It was an attack on my financial, moral and romantic condition. She usually sticks to just one subject for each argument but today's was a multi combined assault resembling a scene from the Russian Revolution. She made several nasty cracks that I won't forget in a hurry. I am sure that at times she is unstable.

Passed the evening in front of the tv. News: a couple of Belgian taxidermists have been shot in Zaire and everyone seems to be in uproar about it. I fail to be shocked, horrified, surprised or remotely interested about what goes on in these 'Up the Jungle' Banana republics. Who cares whether Mr Mobutu's government is stable or not? Perhaps Mrs Mobutu, or maybe even his elderly mother, but certainly nobody else.

Her Majesty the Queen is in West Germany on her second state visit to that land. I was reading somewhere that in a recent opinion poll 85 per cent of voters said that would-be kaiser Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia would be the best man to be president of the republic ~ and he wasn't even on the list of candidates suggested in the poll!

-=-

20130612

Tuesday May 9, 1978

Sarah and I went to Parker's wine bar at lunchtime. Had a couple of pints and a glass of dry white wine. She is a giggle is Sarah, but the soul destroying infatuation which ruled my thoughts for years on end is now over. She is attractive, humorous and enchanting but a relationship would never get off the ground. We discuss quitting the YP.

Hot day. Christine phoned this afternoon to say she went out last night with a guy she met at the party on Saturday. She refers to herself as a 'bugger'. She flies off to Jersey on Wednesday with with Mum. Paddy Braithwaite died a year ago this month. I do suppose they'll be thinking about him all the more.

Items of news: Aldo Moro, the former Italian PM who was kidnapped 54 days ago was found dead today. Lord Hillingdon, of Williams & Glyn's Bank, is dead too. Margaret Hilda Thatcher and Mr Callagas have been squabbling about knocking off one solitary penny in the pound in Income Tax. Fools. The Queen is still wearing spectacles when reading in public.

Mum visited Dr Mellor this morning and he did nothing but talk about Dad and how marvellous the British police force is. In the surgery she chatted to a woman with a baby called Peter. The woman told her Peter is becoming popular again thanks to Princess Anne. I don't think so.

John came up to see Lynn and Dave about something. He told me Tony has moved to Shipley and is throwing a party there on Saturday. He and Maria are going. _____________________.

Bed at midnight.

-=-

20130611

Friday April 21, 1978

Birthday of Queen Elizabeth II

Lynn got me out of bed at 6:30 and I devoured a few slices of toast and read the Daily Mail. The Queen is 52 today. She's in the paper this morning holding her grandson, Peter, in a Snowdon portrait.

Got the 7:52 train to Leeds and met Jacq at the bus station on Wellington Street. She's wearing a hat and reading Erich Segal's follow up to 'Love Story'. It looks like sentimental slush to me.



Left for London at 8:30 and got to Victoria at 1pm. We had a few drinks at the Albert, a pub done out in Victorian style, and then afterwards walked down the Embankment towards Waterloo Bridge. For a while we queued at the entrance at the Commons for a look at the yelling and bawling mob, but after half an hour it began to drizzle and we made our escape.



To Trixie's at Muswell Hill for 5:30 where we had a massive meal of pork roll and avocado pear, &c. Trixie was in good shape and so pleased to see Jacq. Peter S is thinner. He went out with his friend Nick, and the three of us went to the BBC Social Club at the Alexandra Palace. Quite a drunken affair it was too, especially after Trixie won a bottle of Teacher's whisky in a raffle. I was drinking lager with Scotch chasers. Ugh. Yes, I did it again.____________.

Trixie drove us back to the flat pissed, driving at approx 2 MPH with windscreen wipers going like hell, but at least she stuck to the correct side of the road. On arrival home poor Trixie vomited in her palatial loo.

Bundled into Peter's bed.

-=-

20121221

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.

-=-

20121220

Thursday December 22, 1977

_.Received two weeks pay, which is fatal. By Christmas Eve it will be sadly depleted. I went out and bought a couple of presents and intend purchasing no more. Blimey, I'm no Paul Getty. Why spend when it's just for spending sake?

David 's party is on for Dec 26, and John's on Dec 28, but other than this I don't think we're in for a riot.

Her Majesty with her first grandson.
Master Peter Mark Andrew Phillips was baptised today at Buckingham Palace. The poor soul going through life with such a pitiful name can find comfort in the knowledge that he is the oldest grandson of Her Most Illustrious Majesty our Sovereign Lady the Queen and it is unlikely that Master Phillips will ever endure the horrors of our state education system or experience the agonies of taking home £30 per week. Oh I'd change places with him and dip my head in that font any day.







-=-

20121126

Tuesday November 15, 1977

Princess Anne gave birth to a son at 10:46 this morning. The news came into the office about half an hour later. Master Phillips weighed in at 7lb 9oz and he is fifth in line of succession to the Throne. I never doubted that the child would be male. The only sadness is that he is born without a title. On the six o'clock news we saw a 61 gun salute on Tower Hill. The captain was with HRH for the birth. Great news, anyway. Long Live the House of Windsor! (7pm).

Now you will probably be physically sick at what I am about to relate. Are you sitting comfortably and suitably close to a bucket, and in a strong chair and with a large glass of Scotch close at hand? No, it's just that I'm still battling through a certain library book and I'm only on page 785. Alexandre Dumas needs a kick in the rear.

Back to the Royal baby (11.45pm). On the nine o'clock news we saw the Queen leaving St Mary's Hospital, Paddington, after visiting Princess Anne and her grandson for half an hour. She looked very, very happy. Dad was listening to Mum and I discussing possible names and made a few suggestions of his own. Master Elvis Phillips was one, and Bing Phillips another. Mum says John, Charles and Philip will feature, and I'm sure Charles will be in there somewhere but can't imagine Philip Phillips. Other old favourites spring to mind like George, Edward, even William or Richard - and Andrew after the prince of that name. Oh, it's bloody wide open really. Mark Junior, perhaps?  Mark Phillips seemed to be hideously unprepared for confronting the media this evening. His speech, or lack of it, has become much worse and his embarrassment even made Angela Rippon go a bright shade of pink.

Watched TV after diving into the bath. Saw a play on the BBC which almost put me off my supper. Unadulterated violence and bad language.

-=-




20121117

Thursday November 3, 1977

Pay day. The State Opening of Parliament took place this morning. BBC TV technicians blacked out the coverage of the 'spectacle' because they too want more cash from HM Government. When I say 'spectacle' I say so in more ways than you imagine because the Queen wore her half-moon spectacles for the first time at the opening of the British Parliament. The fact that she is become a grandmother in two weeks time must have gone to her head, or perhaps I should say face. The specs do not flatter HM one bit. I do realise that the Queen doesn't want to be a trend setter or sex symbol. The sole aim was to the read the rubbish provided for her by the pathetic government with speed and accuracy.

At tea time we had fish and chips washed down with a bottle of hock. Papa was pissed from an afternoon session with Mum, Edith and Ernest. They had been up to the Cow & Calf to enquire about a wedding reception for Lynn & Dave. It sounds impressive.

Sat by the television this evening.

-=-


20121011

Wednesday October 12, 1977

Dad was on Radio Leeds at 7.45 this morning (live) and throughout the Empire many millions of his followers sat grouped around tiny wireless sets to listen to his words of wisdom. I suppose you could liken him to Neville Chamberlain really.

PC 1656.
I went to Leeds with him and was in the office by 7.20. Bloody hell it was still dark. Mind you, I suppose that is how my forefathers started the working day.

I phoned Mum before lunch and she played a tape recording of dear Papa's speech down the receiver to me. He sounded quite good.

Did nothing but watch television this evening. Saw Penelope Keith and Richard Briers in Part II of 'The Norman Conquests'. Miss Keith ought to be made a Dame at the earliest opportunity because she's of the Edith Evans ilk without a doubt.

Dame Penelope?
To bed after 11 with 'The Count of Monte Cristo'. Dumas is excellent and I think I will have to tackle 'The Three Musketeers' series next. It seems quite ridiculous, doesn't it?

I must keep an eye on The Times and indeed the dear YP for signs of my brilliant letter. I do hope it will be published because they will be among the first organs to complain when Master/Miss Phillips is romping around on Her Majesty's knee without even a humble 'Honourable' prefixed before his/her name.

(By the way - I'm willing to bet you anything that the infant royal baby will be MALE. The last occasion in that august family when the first-born child was a daughter occurred on April 21, 1926, and that child is now the Queen).

-=-

20121008

Sunday October 9, 1977

18th after Trinity. Awakened at 9am by the Australian girl who says the room stinks and nominates Jacqui and I for a Nobel Prize for tolerating it the night long. It was very stale. We ate more cheese and continued with the record player and before long we were the sole occupants of the flat. God only knows where the others went. Jacqui passed a frustrating hour searching for the vacuum cleaner - not dissimilar to the quest for the Holy Grail. The offending object turned up in a distant cupboard.

Jacqui.
The day was hot and sunny and we set out for a walk down the actual Muswell hill to see Jacqui's mum. We discovered her brother, Pete, in a state of great hangover-isation (he'd been to a party) but no sign of her mum. From there we walked to a weird pub for a couple of drinks. Jacqui didn't know the Queen's birthplace was in Piccadilly. Back to the flat at 2 and took my leave of the piano-playing flatmate. Got a bus and then a tube to Victoria and at 3 I left for Leeds. Jacqui was in hysterics because a woman climbed onto the coach with a massive, obscene looking Alsatian dog, which proceeded to park itself next to me. We were howling at each other through the window. I read, or at least attempted to read, 'The Count of Monte Cristo' but found myself asleep for most of the journey. Ate sandwiches at Leicester. This gave me indigestion. Landed at Chateau Pine Tops at about 8pm.

All in all, an exquisite weekend - or party, or day, or whatever you call it. Saw TV with the family and retired early with, yes, you've guessed it, the Count.

-=-

20120903

Tuesday September 20, 1977

Martyn phoned. We talked about Stockport, but he disagreed with everything I said. He made some comments about Carol J being a 'nice girl'. ________. Tony rang too to talk about the Jacqui/Joy visit. He suggested picking up the girls at Leeds City Station but I told him they were coming up by car.

Jacqui phoned at lunchtime to say they are staying at Elmete Lane, Roundhay, from about 9pm on Friday. They are going to phone me when they arrive and I will meet them and take them on to Angela Singer's party at Headingley. Chris phoned for John Grady's number.

John came to see us for a few minutes. We are going out on Thursday, first for a few drinks with Mum & Dad and then on to a disco with Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave.

I made one of my irregular visits to Hough the denist who just glanced at my teeth and told me to come back at the end of October. What a wasted journey.Feeling quite energetic I walked from Rawdon to Guiseley where John (or is it Tim?) Mounsey (of Oakwood Hall fame) picked me up and brought me half way up Hillway. He's a good laugh and although we've lived near each other all these years I hardly know him.

Fred Mulley slumbering ...
Saw in one of the papers that the Defence minister, Fred Mulley, is probably going to be replaced following the embarrassing but hilarious incident at the Silver Jubilee RAF display at Finningley when he dropped off to sleep in a chair next to Her Majesty the Queen, who was not amused.

Sat and ate Susan's home made toffee this evening laughing at Magnus Magnusson on 'Mastermind'. One of the Sunday papers carried an article saying that Diana Dors is suing a magazine over allegations that twenty years ago she played strip poker with Mr Magnusson and Bernard Levin. Very improbable I know and like a Monty Python sketch, but I bet it's true. Something as ridiculous as that must have some truth in it.

Diana Dors, speaking in the Sunday People after Elvis bit the dust referred to Presley as her 'SVENGALI'. That was a new word to me. Am I illiterate?

-=-


20120810

Monday August 15, 1977

You will be relieved to read that the poor, exhausted Queen is on her way to Balmoral for her first break since February. Thank God the Ireland visit is over and done with and safely sealed away in the pages of history.

Carole phoned to explain why I received a postcard from Newquay on Saturday which had an Ilkley postmark embellished upon it. Miss Phillips is a write-off as far as I'm concerned and she can become Mrs Peter Fogarty tomorrow. Goodnight.

-=-

Sunday March 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn British Summer Time begins 3rd Sunday in Lent Bacon sandwiches and the Sunday Telegraph. Fuss about the Queen's visit to ...