Wednesday April 4, 1979

_. The party with John and Sheila continued today. Home from the YP and a few hours later they arrived once again with Valerie and Graham. Auntie Hilda arrived at 9 and Uncle Tony followed on at 11 with his Liberal agent, who was clad from head to foot in red corduroy ~ just the sort of clothes you'd expect to see a Liberal agent wearing. Oh, and why do people who meddle in local politics always wear suede shoes?

It was good to see Tony again. He looked pale and tired but this probably due to a combination of the coming election and the death of his mother. John and Tony made a good conversational combination, and Hilda was nice. It was an excellent pre-birthday party. They all sang "Happy Birthday" to me at midnight. We discussed politics. John laughed until he cried as I explained my reasons for preferring to live under the yoke of a right-wing dictatorship to a left-wing dictatorship.

Hilda made the statement that I am a "confirmed bachelor". In other words she thinks I'm a poof. I objected to this. I may currently be a single man, but dislike people pigeon-holing me. Drank until the early hours.

-=-

Tuesday April 3, 1979

_. Auntie Hilda phoned today to say Karen and Steve are going out babysitting on Saturday and so we cannot have the Grand Gadsby-Rhodes reunion this time. Thwarted again. She told Mum that cousin Derek's wife, Jennifer, is expecting her second baby in November. Karen phoned at 7:30 to say we can all have the great gathering on April 14, which is the day before Easter. I readily agree, and communicate this news to Sue. Mum and Dad with Hilda and Tony are probably going to stay with Ruby and Arthur for Easter, and so the house at Pudsey will be void of parents and eligible for an orgy. Alison is also coming for Easter, and so she'll be included in the party. Gosh, I can hardly wait.

At about 8:30 in walked John and Sheila, from Lanzarote, with Valerie and her boyfriend Graham, a law student at Nottingham Polytechnic. It was such a surprise because we haven't seen them since Christmas, 1977, and following the boycotting of Lynn's wedding, I thought we'd seen the last of them.

Uncle John is just the same self-assured, suave businessman. He never has a penny but is always on the verge of making a fortune. The gold mine is always just around the corner.  At 11pm they run Valerie and Graham to Harrogate, and then come back to stay the night with us. We discussed Lanzarote and our wayward, insane family. From Blackpool to Selby and from the Canary Isles to Stranraer we are making our mark on the world.

-=-

Monday January 22, 1979

The NUJ decided to come out of hibernation today for the first time since the beginning of December. The country is grinding to a halt. I can name the industries that are not on strike on the fingers of one hand. Mr Callaghan will have to go.

Callaghan: shitting himself at No. 10...

Read Richard Crossman's 1966-68 diaries and find his comments on the Queen interesting. Look them up for yourself if you are at all interested.

One of the Sunday papers did an article on Crossman's relationship with Callaghan, who was Home Secretary and then Chancellor (of the Exchequer) from 1964-70. Quite disturbing, and I bet that the PM is now shitting himself at No. 10. He (Callaghan) is not good in a crisis, is one of Crossman's statements.

John Edward Rhodes.

We have received a letter from John & Sheila in Lanzarote. We can go out there for £30 at three days notice which sounds good. By the sound of things they are the only English speakers on the island. John is doing a lazy, pleasurable job whilst Sheila runs around the volcano fifteen times a day driving holiday-makers from the airport to half-built hotels. She has always carried John through life. I know I have delusions of grandeur, but I think John Edward Rhodes is an even bigger dreamer.



Back from the YP at 5:30 to find Sue, Lynn and Alison with Mama. The girls had been at the Black Bull in Otley all afternoon (market town pubs open until 4pm) celebrating Monday. Lynn had consumed eight pernods. Mum said afterwards that she worries about Lynn drinking.

Watched the telly until 11:30 then to bed with a mug of Ovaltine and the Rt Hon Richard Crossman, Lord President of the Council.

-=-

Wednesday January 25, 1978

Conversion of St. Paul.

No holiday news today because the magical Michelle is taking a day off. I spoke to Denise on the blower, a very brief conversation, because she was being stampeded under foot by milling, holiday-crazed Bradford folk.

I am battling along with 'Whose Body?' by Miss Sayers. I've glanced at Edward VI too.

Dad phoned John and Sheila because they are supposed to be heading for a new life in the Canaries tomorrow, but they've postponed their departure for a fortnight. Is he going to go at all? One certainly wonders. We have heard of great prospects before regarding Uncle John. He is however, a wonderful guy.

-=-

Friday January 20, 1978

Snow, ice and generally an anti-social climate. I am going to join (Uncle) John in Lanzarote, Canary Islands.

David G.

Dave G makes a state visit to Pine Tops once again. The summer holiday is the main topic of the weekend conference. Poor David is more bald than ever.

We went to the Fox and Hounds where Pete M, Chris and Steve Hudson were assembled. They brought the news that they are not joining us abroad this year. Peter Aristotle Niarchos Mather Onassis, Junior cannot afford to go!! Obviously, I believe him. Chris has plans to go on a walking holiday in South Wales and visit an elderly maiden aunt in Canada. He too must have lost a slate or suddenly developed an aged attitude. Steve was his normal, pleasant, quiet self. _______. Martyn, we are told, is still in the running. ______. Home at 11:30 to a wine tasting session. We go to Bradford tomorrow to sort out the holiday 'problem'.


-=-

Tuesday December 27, 1977

Bank Holiday in England, Ireland and Wales.

I failed to mention that Helen (the Mrs Helen Malin) and I had another bet yesterday. After paying her the £1 note for 1975 bet we placed another wager. She says Her Majesty will abdicate by January 1, 1981. I have obviously won this one. She (Helen, not the Queen) has moved to Peterborough and a four bedroomed house. I'm invited whenever I fancy going.

Up at 9:30 and cleared the devastation with Dave. Sandra and Miss LD are smoking and lounging like Roman whores whilst we slave. Dave taped some of my records and I made breakfast. I was home by 11:30. No hangover or touch of the squelches. The Lawson coffee liqueur usually loosens everything nicely.

Spent the day at home chiefly discussing the events of last night with the girls. I do love David's Christmas parties.

(Uncle) John, Sheila and Valerie came at 6:30 and for six or seven hours we sampled the wine and forced food down ourselves. Disgusting really. (Uncle) John became greatly pissed and was very amusing. He invited us all to his Canary Island home and even suggested to Lynn & Dave that they should honeymoon there. Good, eh? The only sad thing about all this is that Windsor will never be the same again. Valerie is nice. To bed at 2:00am with the horror of work stretching before me. Ghastly. Tomorrow will be hideous I know.

-=-

Saturday October 18, 1975

To Windsor with the lads today. Of course I didn't go see John & Sheila. I thought of calling in but decided it would be an embarrassment to them. After all, if no one is staying with them after they told me I couldn't stay because of lack of room, they'd be in a sticky position.

We have a great day. They are both thrilled with the castle, especially Chris who thought the state apartments were incredible. I mentioned to Peter that some of the carving in St George's Chapel and in some of the rooms of the state apartments was the work of Grinling Gibbons 1648-1720, and he excitedly sought information on him. He drifted from bookshop to bookshop for most of the afternoon trying to find suitable literature on him, but failed to do so. However, by the time we'd finished we knew everything there is to know about the Rotterdam-born sculptor and carver who came to England and was 'spotted' by John Evelyn, the diarist, in 1671 and was introduced to Charles II, Wren and others. Trinity College, Cambridge, the royal palaces, Burghley House and St Paul's Cathedral all have bits and peices done by him, and the bronze statues of Charles II and James II are attributed to him, but they may have been done by his 'school'. Gibbons was paid for them anyway. How's that, all from memory?

We have steak again for our evening meal at the London Grill in Windsor, and after having taken a look at Eton and had a swan-tormenting session on the Thames we make our way to Windsor & Eton Railway Station and get a train to Hayes.

At the Arlington we sit for what seems like days in the bar drinking, and a wedding reception in an adjoining room kept us wide awake.

-==-

Wednesday October 15, 1975

Now that Carole is well again we make the most of it.__________. (Large deletion). Sorry about the mess.

I was in a terrible rage this evening. After arranging to meet Carole at 8.20 I rang John & Sheila to determine the arrangements for my venture south tomorrow. I spoke to Sheila, and to my horror, she said they couldn't put me up this time. I was mad, but didn't tell her so. They've had my letter for a week and haven't had the decency to reply to it. Mum says it's really bad of them and she, for one, won't visit them in Windsor again. I rang Peter to tell him the bad news but he just said we'd have to go on with our plans all the same, except I'd have to stay with Chris too.

Went down the lane at 8 but no bus came until 8.45. I was hopping mad by the time I reached the Hare. Nothing seems to have gone right tonight. However, Carole soothed me somewhat and I cheered up in next to no time.

Saying goodbye to Carole was a bit sad and she kept saying she was going to cry. I came home and stuffed everything into a suitcase. Mum gave me £5 from the Nora Rhodes Trust, and by 12.30 all was ready. Have to be up by 6am. Ugh!

-==-

Wednesday October 8, 1975

Carole is ill again. Her Mum rang me at 6.30 to say she flaked out at work and was rushed home and immediately planted in bed. After hurrying through dinner I dashed down the road to Menston, where Mrs P was carrying on as if a major disaster had befallen the House of Phillips. On being ushered into Carole's room I found a sorry sight indeed. Lying there amidst her pillows looking like death itself. I thought I'd seen the last of her, and I do so hate to see people ill because my mind goes blank, and all conversation on my part dies on my lips. I just sit looking like a spaniel in mourning, and give no comfort or cheer to the invalid in question.

I spend an hour with Carole, who angers me by predicting that I'll finish with her because she is ill all the time. Nothing is further from my mind.

I nipped into the Hare & Hounds for the last half hour and chat with CD, Helen and poor Dave (of stag party fame, who gets married on Saturday). Peter M gives me a lift up home at 10.30, and we discuss the London/Windsor excursion next week. (Uncle) John should have received my letter by now, and I hope he doesn't think I'm being somewhat rude inviting myself down like I have done.

-==-

Tuesday October 7, 1975

A crisp, autumnal day. Cooler than yesterday but the sun seemed a good deal brighter. To Leeds with Jim Rawnsley, who takes up a new appointment next week. It is rumoured that he'll be earning £12,000 per year - and he tells me he can hardly afford a new pair of shoes!

Nothing spectacular in the news. The Prince of Wales is to become a naval captain in January. He'll have command of his own ship and operate in the North Sea. Prince Philip was a captain in the RN, and so too was George VI, George V and a score of other monarchs. The "Sailor King" is a title held above all others I think. We might have a revolution if the day ever dawns when the heir to the throne is a wing commander or brigadier in the army.

I rang Carole this afternoon and she said she felt ill again. The poor creature will never see 20 if she continues at this rate. However, she says she'll come out with me tomorrow night if it's the last thing she does. I shall have to go down to Menston to see if she's quite fit before hand.

Today I wrote to John and Sheila asking about whether I can go down and stay with them a week on Thursday. Peter M is going down to Hayes (Middx) to stay with Christopher for a few days, and so we might as well go together. Windsor is such a fantastic place too, and it's over a year since I was there. Going down on the 16th will also enable us to visit the Motor Show at Earls Court. I hope that John will find no fault in my going on those dates. He always seems to enjoy my going, and by writing as opposed to phoning I think it doesn't put him on the spot. He will have time to consider my letter, whereas ringing him would have had to produce an immediate response. I also wrote to Chris informing him of my intended state visit._______.

-==-

Saturday December 28, 1974

Death of Mary II, 1694. Feeling quite well, which is unusual for Saturday mornings. Lynn and I sit listening to the radio until 8.0am. This John Stonehouse case is a right bloody fiasco. It makes one wonder just how many other vice-ridden, corrupt sods flock each day to the Palace of Westminster to help govern this nation of ours. It's a nasty embarrassment for 'Uncle' Harold and his so-called Labour party.

Work until 3.30 when I decide to pack up and go. I was only half an hour early - no catastrophe.
John, Sheila and cousin Valerie came after tea, and John and I only had a few minutes with them before departing for Horsforth. The Ratcliffe party commences in the evening and is a tremendous success. The clan meet in the Fleece, a nice little ale house which we rarely visit throughout the drinking year. See June. We don't speak. Miss Bottomley fails to excite my emotions like she did once upon a time.

The party is underway by 10.30 and goes on until 11 the following morning. I can't remember much about the occasion at all, though I do recall a certain enjoyable experience with Christine Braithwaite. I gradually drank myself into a state of semi-consciousness & Denny was the only one who came to my aid. We walked all over Horsforth together and I felt much better afterwards. Home with Lynn, David, Christine Dibb and Denny at 4am.

-==-

Saturday September 21, 1974

Cold, rainy and miserable day. Up at 10 feeling better after last night's attack of stomach pains which both John and I credited to the Advocaat we consumed before dinner yesterday.

At 11 John and Hugo go to Ascot to see a man about a swimming pool, and we prepare to leave for home. At 11.30 Sheila accompanies Denny and I to the bus stop opposite the castle, and we bid our farewells before getting the London coach half an hour later. Denny had a little weep as we left, passing the castle with the Union Jack hanging limply in the drizzle. The both of us sat quietly on the coach, and I glanced at 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe' by C.S. Lewis, which is a remarkable little book probably intended for 10-year-olds but who cares?

Don't leave London until 2.30. Bradford at 7pm after a half hour stop at Leicester. Denny and I part arranging to meet in the Hare and Hounds at about 8. Home by 7.30 and John helped me home with my case after spotting me alighting from the bus.

Dad looks much older after seeing Uncle John for a few days. They look so much alike but Papa does look more elderly.

To the Hare. Everyone arrives except Dave L who isn't coming out until tomorrow night. My stomach ache returns and I don't really feel like supping cold ale, and I switch to rum and orange, purely for medicinal purposes, and it certainly warms my interior. Move to the Malt Shovel in Menston where we stay until 10.30. Glad that John and Carol are going out together again. I say 'again' but the only time they've been out before was at Jackie's 18th. Come back to Pine Tops. Chris, Phyllis Whitethighs, John and Carol and watch a boring James Mason film until after 1. John's car breaks down on his return from taking the mob home and Papa isn't very pleased about getting up at 2am.

-==-

Friday September 20, 1974

Our last day in Windsor. Denny and I go look at the castle again, and then go to the Three Tuns pub and sit drinking campari and cinzano until 3. Feeling very drowsy we stagger back to 13, Clewer Fields where we watch a Anna Neagle film on TV and mess about in general.

John and Sheila come in from work and we have too much advocaat to drink. This must be the most unpleasant liquid refreshment I have ever experienced. My nose is really terrible today with 'Hugo-itis' (dog allergy). Have a hot bath to steam my sinuses. Dress in my suit and at 8 we go to the 'Harte and Garter' for dinner. The main course is upset when John gets violent pains in his tummy. The same thing happens to me half an hour later. Nevertheless, we all enjoyed the evening out and John refuses to let Denny and I contribute to the bill, which upsets Denny.

D and I go on to the Bierkeller, only downstairs from the restaurant, but we leave 15 minutes later because of the heat and the crowds. Back to Clewer Fields where we listen to records and drink coffee. Listen to John go through his old address book.

Bed at 1. But Denny and I talk until 3.30. Had tummy attack at 2.30 and the call of nature dragged me to the loo several times in the early hours.

-==-

Wednesday September 18, 1974

Brilliant day. Denny and I are up and out by 8.15 and are in London by 10am.

Very wam morning and we stand outside Buckingham Palace where a large crowd is assembled to watch the changing of the guard. A very impressive scene with the Welsh Guards follows. We go by tube to the Tower of London, where a Yeoman warder rumages through Denny's handbag looking for bombs and grenades. Have a guided tour before seeing the Crown Jewels again. the Imperial StateCrown is the ultimate in beauty.

See from the newspapers (hanging about the place) that we are going to the polls on October 10. Denny and I move on to Downing Street where a large crowd of BBC, Thames TV and ITV cameras are displayed awaiting the arrival of Mr Wilson or some other worthies. See Lady Falkender arrive and capture the event on camera for posterity. Get the tube to Westminster and stare at Big Ben and the new statue of Sir Winston Churchill which is an unsightly object. Quite exhausted we go back to Victoria and get the train to Windsor arriving back at 7.

Go for a pizza at the restaurant near Queen Victoria's statue at the head of Peascod Street and leave 10 minutes later after scoffing loads of the stuff. Sit in front of the TV all evening with John and Sheila seeing "Steptoe and Son" which gets more and more hilarious each time the series is churned out. Get some beer in from the Copper Horse pub and feel drowsy in front of the gas fire. Not at all surprised about the election date...

--==--

Tuesday September 17, 1974

Denny and I spend a quiet day in Windsor, doing nothing exciting in particular. Buy a silver locket from an antique shop over the bridge in Eton, and then drift around capturing the favourite views in permanent photographic creations.

Decide, with Denny's prompting, to have my hair permed on Thursday morning - should make a nice going home present for all the family!

Go to the safari park disco at 8.30 which brings back memories of last June with John. Don't like the local crowd much and the bar staff are shocking. The prices are.. arrgghh! It cost £1.16 for two double pernods and orange. Hell Fire, Mr Wilson ought to do something with his prices minister, Mrs Shirley Williams, MP. If you ask my opninion, she isn't worth the money...

--==--

Monday September 16, 1974

Gorgeous morning. Denny and I walk the length of the Long Walk which goes from Windsor Castle to the 'Copper Horse' with King George III sat proudly upon it, a total of three miles. We also walked all the way back. We were completely fagged out. The glorious views of the castle relieved the pain of our aching toes and knees.

Came back to Clewer Fields and devoured a massive breakfast with John. Do nothing in the afternoon other than browse around the shops and take another glance at the castle, seeing Her Majesty's private rose garden which is only open to the public when HM is out of England. She is in Scotland at Balmoral at the moment. Everything about the castle is truly breathtaking - the most glorious place in Britain and even Uncle Harry said he thought Yorkshire was the best place on earth until he clapped eyes on Berkshire.

Denny and I go the Bierkeller, which is very quiet, no doubt because it's Monday. Move on to the College Arms at Eton, where we are the only drinkers in the bar. Drink Cinzano. Finish at 9.30 and look round the tiny antique shops until after 11. Home for 11.30 to discover John and Sheila have gone to bed leaving us to our own devices.

-==-

Saturday September 14, 1974

Up at 6.30 with Lynn. Denny and I are thrilled at the prospect of spending a week in Windsor. Leave with suit cases &c, for Bradford at 7.30.

Pleasant morning and it becomes warm and sunny as the day progresses. Leave Bradford for London at 8.15. We stop at Leicester on the way and buy a copy of 'Forum' magazine which deals with all the sexual aspects of life. Some really filthy letters are published herein by perverted readers.

Get coach from London to Windsor passing close to Heathrow where Denny is thrilled at the sight of the 'planes. Arrive at beautiful Windsor at 3 and go immediately to Sheila's with the luggage. Uncle Harry comes shortly later and we discuss details of the weeks schedule over a cup of coffee.

Uncle Harry takes Denny and I for a quick tour round Windsor, taking in the Great Park and Stoke Poges (joke). Back for a sizeable meal and then we all go on to the Bierkeller where Harry and Denny become quite fresh. Really hysterical evening and John was on the receiving end of half a pint of Denny's lager which accidentally slipped through her fingers in the mad crush. When Uncle Harry had absorbed his share he disappeared when it was time for us to go.

Go back to John's where Uncle Harry eventually turns up. We take a few photos with a flash cube and depart to our appointed places of sleep.


--==--

Monday July 8, 1974

Wake up at 6am dying for a drink. Stagger to the lounge and attack a couple of oranges to quench my terrible thirst. Leave for the YP at 8, meeting Judith R jut before leaping onto the train. She received the letter I wrote last week, and found it amusing, or so she said. Nice girl Judith is. One cannot go far wrong with a girl like that. A pity she doesn't fancy me - I quite fell for her in the autumn of last year, but am quite recovered now of course. Guiseley Station is looking even more posh in readiness for the Royal visit on July 10. Philip is coming to Denny's 18th birthday celebrations no doubt! Looking forward to getting pissed that night.

Janice is 19 today. She's been a good deal more civil since Stuart Beaumont made a honest woman of her, and I quite like her now.

Ring Judy at about 8.45. She says that Jackie is going to marry the bloke she's been living with for the past fortnight. I laugh at the thought of it. John is quite relieved. Sit in the bath thinking about my next holiday in September. Will John and Sheila approve of me taking Denny to Windsor? They've only got the one spare room. Anyway, I can do no more than ask permission to bed down with the dog in the dining room. Really looking forward to seeing Denny on Wednesday. I expect she will be in love with some Spanish waiter or something.

-==-

Tuesday June 18, 1974

Our last day in Windsor. Get up with John and Sheila at 9, and we say goodbye. Sheila asks us to go again, and we thanked them both for the very nice time we'd had. Go to London at about 12.30 after buying a couple of records in WH Smiths in Windsor - 'Tom the Peeper' by an American group, which will always remind us of our adventures at the Safari Bar, and 'Kissin' in the Back Row of the Movies' by the Drifters. Sit in the shoddy cafe at Victoria Coach Station until the coach leaves for London at 3. I hate coach journeys, especially when they are on the long, boring motorways, which are becoming an increasing part of our lives. In Leeds for 7.15. Home at 8. Marvellous to see everyone again and Mum is overjoyed by the Royal Albert Old Country Roses tea-set which we bought at the Token House, Windsor, on Friday.

Tom the Peeper link:-

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjw_KhhovVM&feature=related

-==-

Tuesday June 11, 1974

Up at 8.15 again. Hugo is chasing round the bedroom and he certainly inspires one to leap out and face the day in the face. Go with one of the men, Bill, to a beautiful place in St Leonard's Hill, Windsor, where the old dear, Mrs England, lives in splendour. She has a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce, etc. Work from 9 till 1, then from 2 to nearly 5.30. A glorious day without a cloud in the sky. Bill brings me back and Sheila arrives simultaneously. I am infuriated by a call received on the tape/telephone receiver thingy from Mrs England saying Bill and I are: 'Two youths, who are so slow it just isn't true.' The silly old cow will not have the pleasure of my services again! Uncle J rings her back but agrees with Sheila and me that she has a complex about young people.

-==-