Sunday September 5, 1976

12th after Trinity. Out of bed at midday for a cooked breakfast with the Mather family [except Donald, who is decorating]. Horror of Horrors! I smashed a rare Meissen plate when I dropped a half-ton butter dish onto it. Mrs M laughs it off but I feel terrible. I never break anything at home. I also accidentally knocked Peter's electric razor off a dresser, showering particles & bristles all over the kitchen.

Lynne and I then creep away to the Cayley Arms. Talk about things. We don't like Jane, and neither does Donald & Vera. I say how much I like her parents - which isn't crawling - but quite sincere. Only us in the pub, which isn't very nice, and so we go for a drive round for an hour or so. Bright sun. We laugh at the sight of a massive 18 stone woman astride a tiny, pathetic, crippled pony, which seems to be dying beneath the weight. Lynne wants to contact the NSPCC or something. Isn't that for cats?

Back to Ty-Onnen for hilarious lunch and then settle down to watch 'Cromwell' starring Richard Harris and with Alec Guinness as the martyred monarch. Retire to bed at midnight after cuccumber sandwiches and Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' on the record player. Listening to Lynne and her father discussing work over supper I realise how terribly ambitious she is. I don't like ambition one bit. I tend to think people become eaten away by it and finish up like Hitler.

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Sunday March 30, 1975

Easter Day. I'm sure Easter Sunday wasn't as early as this last year. I always thought it fell somewhere after my birthday, but it goes to show that even I can make the occasional mistake.

Do nothing all day other than eat chocolates and watch tv. The house was uncluttered with human bodies for the first time in years. Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter went to the Lake District for the day. John was out on the booze. So, Easter Day lunch was a miserable event with just the three of us, i.e Mum, Dad and myself. Food very nice though.

At 8.15 Dave L comes for me in the car and I escape the horrors of Richard Harris and Vanessa Redgrave in 'Camelot', a revolting film on the BBC. King Arthur and all that. Meet MM and Marita and head for Leeds. The Three Bells, a nasty little pub in Headingley near Bryan's Fish and Chip Shop, is the first place to be patronised by us before moving on to the Skyrack, riddled with festering students and such like. At about 10 we all flee like big kids to the Woodhouse Moor Fair where, to our horror, we discover the bloody thing closing down for the night. After one go on the dodge 'ems the lights go out and the four of us console ourselves with chicken and chips in Headingley. Back to MM's for coffee until 1am. Sit telling tales of horror and fright. Home in the early hours in the Lawson-mobile. I can soon forsee a Matthews/Fountain engagement. Yes, Siree.

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