Monday November 29, 1976

Give Denise a ring to see how the travel business is going. She says that bookings for next year are going quite well and that we should decide whether we're going as soon as possible.

If you think that this diary has been getting boring lately just hang on a minute because I have a nice surprise for you all. I have decided that on Mondays I'll write a poem or ode [call it what you will] dealing with some event currently taking place. How's that for excitement? Today's ode is as follows:

Lines on the Earthquake in Turkey

Poor Turkey, what a damned shame,
your land has crumbled in all but name,
Your people starve, and your women weep,
But Michael Rhodes hasn't lost any sleep.


Will the Turkish people accept my apologies for the tasteless filth I've just had the audacity to churn out? I don't really mean it.

Home for tea and await the arrival of Miss Mather, who spoke to me on the telephone this morning. She's going [horse] riding on Sunday and wants to know if I want to accompany her. I say like Hell I will. However, we will be going to Thornton-le-Dale after Miss Carol Smith's 'do' at Skipton. No doubt we'll be going straight to work on Monday. Miserable existence really. Sometimes I don't know why the Hell I bother with this journal. Perhaps I should extend my poetic scribblings to Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays. That's how Keats started.

Tony rings at 8 to arrange a booze-up for tomorrow night. He says Stuart has got the Paris job. Great eh? No more weekends in Ilkley. It'll be: 'Oh, I'm nipping over to Paris, Mum.' Smashin'.

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Wednesday April 25, 1973

Got up at 9.30. Had no breakfast and started my international trade essay. Argued with Dad about the loudness of the radio. I said if I couldn't have it loud then it wasn't worth having on at all. Aren't I a spoilt brat? June rang at 11. We talked for 10 minutes and decided to go out tomorrow night instead of tonight. It helps to break the week up because after Thursday I will not be able to go out until Sunday.

Believe it or not, the weather today is beautiful. The sky is china blue. The birds are singing. But for many people it is too late. The workers are back to work today. I wish we could go to Bolton Abbey today, but I do suppose it could never replace yesterdays enjoyable excursion because it takes more than a sunny sky to make a day a good one.

Lynn and Sue made the lunch - turkey again!! I am counting now. It's four days of poultry. Continue until 12 with my Economics essay - how really terrible!

Go with Dad to collect Mum for lunch. See June's sister outside her house on Netherfield Road. She doesn't look anything like June or Sue. Poor Sue has a cold after yesterday's bath in the Wharfe. She won't be going to the Emmotts tomorrow.

After lunch I get my Economics out again but the sight of it is quite nauseating. Go have a bath after helping Mum with a broken washing line. Sit browsing through George III until tea time.

Lynn brings her boyfriend Chris home. They ask Mum's permission to go to a party at Yeadon. Mum says yes. Salad for tea.

Spend the evening watching the telly. I have decided to write to the Queen Mother congratulating her on being a member of the Royal Family for 50 years. I have only ever written to a member of the Royal Family once before, which was last August when I wrote to the Duchess of Gloucester expressing my sympathy of the death of her elder son. A lady-in-waiting replied. The Queen Mother is one of my favourite Royals. Always serene and charming. Surely, the best thing George VI ever did was when he married Lady Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon on April 26, 1923?

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