Busy day. The bloody telephone didn't cease ringing all day. Nothing of interest to say, but I must say something because it's hardly proper to leave blank pages when ones diary is to consitute a major contribution to the historical, social, and literary knowledge of this, the 20th century. OK, we all agree I'm no Samuel Pepys, or John Evelyn or even 'Chips' Channon, but what do you expect from a comprehensive school educated creature who never set foot in Harrow or had Princess Marina for a godmother?
See TV and Monty Python. Nothing of vital interest. So I'll be saying goodnight to you all. I write this journal as though I'm addressing a party of OAPs at the local Darby & Joan. But it's not my fault.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label sir henry channon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sir henry channon. Show all posts
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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...
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5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years ...
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3rd Sunday after Epiphany 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then...