Showing posts with label rod steiger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rod steiger. Show all posts

20101123

Tuesday May 25, 1976




A Traumatic evening. At about 7 o'clock Lynn cut her finger on a corned beef tin and collapsed in the kitchen while Sue and I looked on in horror. Lynn isn't the squeamish type at all, and I am startled to see a normal, level headed girl flaking out at the sight of a splash of blood. She was soon conscious and pulled round. The poor thing shed a few tears, but David was clowning around in his usual fashion in order to revive her. When she was fully recovered she and Sue entertained David and Peter to a meal whilst I languished in the bath 'to keep out of the way'. See a film on BBC1 - 'Three Into One Won't Go', or perhaps 'Two into One Won't Go' or was it three? Starring Rod Steiger and one of the Geeson tarts. I have seen it before and cannot say that I am impressed by it. Better than 'Coronation Street' anyway.

Bed after eleven.

(Go on, I bet you're all asking bed after eleven what? Well it isn't what you think. It wasn't eleven women, or men for that matter. Neither did I devour eleven oranges or take eleven peeps at my life-sized colour photograph of a naked Angela Rippon - in fact it was after the hour of eleven o'clock. Goodnight to one and all.)

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20100506

Monday September 8, 1975


I've just been flicking through the entries for July and I'm horrified by some of the terrible things I've said about Carole. I really do not know why I should have taken that attitude. I met her on July 12 and immediately decided she 'wasn't my type'. Then, on July 13, I said 'she isn't going to be easy to get rid of'. Then on the 16th of the same month I labelled her a 'bitch'. By the 19th I was having second thoughts about my not liking her, and four days after that, on the 23rd, I'd quite fallen for her. She went on holiday on the 26th and I didn't see her again until I returned from Majorca on August 23. I could of course erase all the terrible references about her from my diary, but that would be censorship, which simply won't do. Let us hope that they never fall into her hands that's all - the diaries I mean.

Work wasn't too busy and I was home at 5.30 in a starved state ready for tea. John doesn't get in until 6.30 because his damned car broke down. The poor boy is forever plaged with useless cars and no matter what he does to try to fix them they rarely seem to go. One would think that a five year-old Triumph Spitfire would be a bit more reliable. In his attempts to get it home he was compelled to leave it in Guiseley, and at 8pm I went out to help him push it up the lane. You have no idea just how steep Hawksworth Lane is until you try to push half a ton of metal up it. In the process of doing this I went over on my ankle and had to stagger home.

Mum went off to the Commercial to do her bit for the nation and I sat with my foot up watching 'Al Capone', starring Rod Steiger. John brings 'George', and I don't think I mentioned what happened last night. When the girls had left at about 11.30 we said we'd signal to one another across Tranmere Park by flashing our bedroom lights on and off. It was a great success, and we learned tonight that even Mrs Macdonald was participating.

'George' stayed for her supper and left at about midnight. Mum came home at about the same time after having had a good night.

Carole rang me at 7pm and I said we should go out tomorrow. She said something about me seeing a lot of her lately, but I really don't think I have. Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays isn't every day of the week is it? After great mathematical calculations I realise I do ot see her on Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursdays.

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Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...