Sunday February 25, 1979

_. Quinquagesima.

Continuing heat wave. Lawn cutting weather is just over the horizon and I can almost envisage the dancing daffodils & hear the conscientious bee as he dashes about his business, which is more than can be said for 15 million British workers including the civil service and that sainted profession, the refuse collectors, who have done sweet sod all since Christmas.

We can no longer see down the lane because the piles of festering rubbish are over twenty feet high. To make matters worse the stench is intolerable, and the little masked gent pulling the hand cart piled high with human remains crying: "bring out yer dead!" finds it impossible to get through the heaps of filth and effluence.  Otherwise, everything is rosy and going well on this fake Spring morn.

Did nothing today but watch TV and eat fruit. Sounds weird I know, but true. My reclusive lifestyle continues. I'm now on the path to a lifetime of celibacy and peace. Booze is definitely out and the joys of the female flesh are now a thing of the past. It's strange really because theses sorry symptoms are not the normal ones for those recuperating from pnuemocallaghanicosis. Those on the mend from 'Jim's disease' usually drink themselves into a coma and the majority of them are old regulars down at the clinic having treatment for sexually transmitted diseases.

Watched Irene Dunne in a 1906 epic 'The White Cliffs of Dover' - nauseating. Mum made up her own dialogue as the film crackled along its weepy, tragic course. Later saw Shakespeare's 'Henry VIII' - which was good.

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Sunday December 10, 1978

2nd Sunday in Advent

No hangover. Up at a grotesquely late hour. Lynn and David were screaming with laughter in the garden with Mum and Dad and Chris Baker and three or four Christmas trees. Rain was gushing down but it didn't dampen Lynn's high spirits. She is always wonderful and child~like at Yuletide ~ even after all these years of marital agony. This hysteria comes the ancient Wilson love of Christmas which is steeped in folklore and mystery. The things Great~Uncle Albert did with his mince pies cannot adequately be described here.

Discussing next year's holiday with Sue she says that she and Pete cannot be included because they are saving up this year and intend getting engaged in January, 1980, and married in the following June. She'd like to marry on June 19 ~ Mum & Dad's 26th wedding anniversary. Nothing is official of course, and no doubt Peter will be the last to know. She is always so calm about these matters and almost unenthusiastic. In similar circumstances Lynn would be on the verge of wetting herself. I will not believe it until I actually see it.

Dad and Dave went down to Burley (in Wharfedale) to glue tiles all over the kitchen and Lynn and Mum spent the afternoon baking mince pies.

We all ate at about 6:30 and then I persuaded them to watch "Richard II" by Shakespeare on BBC2. Lynn and Dave went off at about 9 o'clock because she couldn't understand John of Gaunt's senile deliberations. I really do think that the young people of today should have more patience with Shakespeare. He is so easy to understand if you are prepared to concentrate. Lynn said she thought the play was boring! How can Richard II be boring?

To bed at 1:00am and shudder at the thought of the YP. Weekends just dissolve, don't they?

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Tuesday October 4, 1977

Sarah and I passed lunchtime together. We went to the Art Library and she took out three or four books on pottery and potting for her 'O' level evening class before going on to Malcolm's (sandwich shop) where we inadvertently robbed the assistant of the price of two egg mayonnaise sandwiches.

Back at the YP we phoned the (Leeds) Playhouse and booked to see 'Twelfth Night' by a man called Shakespeare on November 10.

The remainder of the day went by quite blissfully and nothing much more happened, except for perhaps two things. Christine phoned to say she's asked Philip Knowles to take her back, and that she expects a reply within the next few days. I expressed my surprise and hope that all will be well in the end. Poor Philip. I talked her out of this idea over the last Christmas season. Will he be dropped again?

Duchess of Kent.

The other thing. The Duchess of Kent is probably going to lose the baby she was expecting in February. The duke, who flew out to Iran yesterday, came rushing home today and took his wife to the King Edward VII Hospital, where no doubt her pregnancy will cease in the next few days. I've said all along that 44 is a bit on the old side for such a venture. All the remaining pregnant royal ladies will be quaking in their maternity smocks tonight. Poor, poor duchess.

Rang Tony tonight just to mention Muswell Hill, and just as I thought he has a prior engagement. He says he's taking Toni to some joint for dinner and a dance afterwards. ________.





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Monday April 16, 1973

Got up at about 10.30. Lynn and Susan were watching the television. Mum was at work and Dad was in bed. Lynn was complaining like mad about no one wanting to go out with her, Susan intending staying in all day.

Woke Dad up at 12 and he went and collected Mum from work. We had omlettes for lunch. In order to shut Lynn up I decided to go to Guiseley with her. Dad gave us a lift down at 2pm. We went into the Library where we remained for about an hour. We brought 8 books out with us. I found two of Eden's large memoirs - 'Facing the Dictators' and 'Full Circle'. Eden says that he resigned due to ill-health and not due to his arcaic policy which was shunned even by his own colleagues. It goes to show how history can be twisted and warped. I can understand how King Richard III has been wrongly portrayed over the past six hundred years. It was Shakespeare, who may have been a good playwright, but a lousy historian. Henry Tudor was the blackguard.

Lynn and I went from the library to Mrs Little's at Silverdale. We remained for about an hour. She made us a coffee. We didn't see much of Stewart, who was out playing with a friend. At 4.45 we set off for home. The weather is really beautiful and we discuss our very first memories as we walk up the lane. Dinner at 5.15. Watch the television for the remainder of the evening. I briefly look at the Eden memoirs which I'll look at in more detail tomorrow.

June is intending ringing me up tomorrow morning, and event for which I can hardly wait. We will not be seeing one another until Wednesday or Thursday. Too long to ask any love-sick man to wait. Came to bed at midnight.


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