Sunday February 18, 1979

_. The news is going around that a thaw is underway, but I don't believe a word of it. [Is my handwriting going down hill. Bear with me, said the raccoon]. Is a raccoon a bear? No, I don't think so. It's probably related to a bear. Half cousins probably. Like the Queen and the Marquess of Cambridge, or me and Sharon Kirk. However, this drivel is getting us nowhere. Precisely.

Over breakfast Mama suggests a trip to Auntie Hilda's after luncheon, and I add that we should go out - en famille - for a quick dose of alcohol first. It is decided upon. Mum, Dad, Sue, Pete and I head out to the Dog and Gun at Appperley Bridge. It's a long time since I went out for a drink with Mum & Dad. We discuss all going to Stockport together. It is my considered opinion that my parents do not go out enjoying themselves enough. They spend all their time home brewing and have become virtual recluses within the space of a few years.

At 2:30 we went on to 6, St James's Crescent, Pudsey [Sue and Pete having gone home]. Had a boozy, pleasurable afternoon with the Gadsbys. Joined by Steve & Tim. I am told we stayed to dinner, but don't remember this. Hilda's Yorkshire Terrier, Pepper, is a delight. Uncle Tony [the Liberal candidate] is more sensible these days and remained calm and collected when I frequently, without warning, dropped 'Jeremy Thorpe' into the conversation.

-=-

Sunday March 27, 1977

Passion Sunday. I like the sound of that.  Wake up to snow and hail. Do nothing whatsoever other than eat lunch and lounge around with a crumby Sunday newspaper. To be honest with you, I don't feel greatly informative today so don't expect anything astounding.

Did you know Mr Healey is presenting his Budget on Tuesday? Yes, and I bet he makes it a good one because of Labour's precarious position at the moment. Not discussing politics anyway.

Rang Dave G in Stockport at 7pm. He and Glenn are definitely coming on Saturday for my official birthday celebrations.

The Tenerife crash, 1977.

Work 5pm-12 midnight. Nothing spectacular here either. The world's worst ever aviation accident has taken place in the Canary Islands. 7,000,000 people dead, or something. Otherwise, nothing at all. Ursula never stops talking. I bet her jaws ache.

Crikey, it's Mrs Hilda Gadsby's 41st birthday tomorrow. She is of course the wife of Norman Anthony Gadsby, prospective Liberal councillor for the Borough of Pudsey.

Home by taxi in the snow at 12. Bed with P.G. Wodehouse. Goodnight.

-==-

Sunday April 4, 1976

Passion Sunday. Passion Sunday maybe, but as far as I was concerned nothing could be further from the truth. Poor Carole was like a moron all day and looks ghastly and haggard. What's become of the vital young maiden of yesteryear? If she doesn't leave home soon she will do something foolish and hideous. Make no mistake about it, our Carole cannot always be relied upon to make a rational move and the thought of her leaping under a bus is always at the forefront of my mind. She was tragic over lunch and I thought she might pass out.

Jackie stays all day. It was quite a laugh really. She took quite a few pictures of us in the garden.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came at 8.30 just as Lynn, Dave and Martyn arrived back from Alison's. Auntie brought me a clock for my birthday and Lynn is horrified to see it because it's the same as what Dave's bought me. Hilda takes her gift home and is going to change it later.

Dave took Carole home at 11. She was close to tears. She hasn't slept at home since Wednesday.

-==-

Monday December 15, 1975

Don't fancy writing anything today. In fact, I think I'll retire until after Christmas if it's all ok with you. For God's sake you can't complain! I've been sitting here now for three years telling you all my daily activities and if anyone deserves a rest I think I do.

PS - it was Uncle Tony's 40th birthday yesterday. ______.

--==--

Thursday November 6, 1975

A bright cold morning. Up at 7.40 and don't have time for breakfast.

I think it is something of a coincidence that Inverary Castle, Scottish home of the Duke of Argyll, is raised to the ground by a mysterious fire on Bonfire Night, the very day before Margaret Duchess of Argyll publishes her memoirs. Old Margaret has little or no affection for her step-son, the duke, and it's a known fact that she would do anything for publicity. I will discuss this affair when more details come in.

Would you believe me if I were to tell you that Franco is being kept alive on a kidney machine? Well, he is. Juan Carlos is the one I feel sorry for. If he isn't a patient man I can't see him being happy at the present time.

Thank God it's pay day. I will have to watch how I spend it this week because I think that Carole's birthday present had better come out of it. Just what I am going to get her is a revolting problem. My imagination just fizzles out when it comes to birthdays, christmases ande christenings. She says all she would like is a solitary red rose, but I must think of something more substantial.

The traffic in Leeds at 4.30 today was like Los Angeles in the rush hour. The bus completely ignored me, and I walked all the way across town to the bus station. It was nearly 6pm when I staggered in for tea.

Mum and Dad are in stitches about Mr Monkman, who came round today to try and solve the 'BUDGIES FOR SALE' sign mystery. Evidently a car did stop on Sunday morning and a chap did enquire about blue breeders! His main reason for coming round, however, was to ask Papa to witness his will. No doubt the whole of the Monkman estate will pass to his beloved son, Tony.

Carole rings me at 8 and we talk for ten minutes or so. Seeing her tomorrow evening. Mum and Dad go to Pudsey to see the Gadsbys. John and I watch a clapped out film starring Michael Redgrave. It's quite good really - just old.

I go for my bath at 11.30.

-==-

Tuesday September 30, 1975

A wet, unpleasant day. The end of September. It has been a lengthy month this, and we can now settle down in front of the TV on these unsettled evenings to watch such thrilling things as the Labour party conference from Blackpool, and all those adverts urging us to buy our Christmas presents early whilst we still have time. The prospects aren't thrilling at all when one thinks about it.

Work was uneventful and nothing is in the headlines at the time being. The usual rubbish about whether the Labour leadership will survive the party conference is all over the front page, but otherwise nothing of interest at all.

Home on the 5.15 (bus) for fish and chips (again). They do say that this greasy creation forms the staple diet of the working classes, and I tend to agree. I also think that they are the staple diet of the middle and upper classes because if you could see some of the people who queue for miles in all weathers outside Harry Ramsden's you'd know what I mean.

That is about all for today other than to mention that the Gadsby pair called upon us at about 8.30. They went out with Mum and Dad, and on arriving back here, we sat until nearly 1am talking about National Service, the energy crisis, politics and all the other useless subjects. Came to bed at 1.30 after compiling a letter to Carole. The first class post is eight and a half pence now! I'll have to try to curb my letter writing activities.

-==-

Tuesday September 2, 1975

Mum & Dad hear that they've failed to get the Menston Arms. I'd quite built up my hopes for the place and don't think Mum is too happy about the news either. Why, Oh why can't things ever be nice and easy for our family? I'm sure we must be fated or something. Dad thinks that the New Inn in Guiseley is a good place to try for, but I don't think it looks like anything special at all.

Marita rings at 7.30 to see about meeting me for lunch in the Wellesley tomorrow. Dave will of course be coming along, and probably MM. Haven't seen Marita since that party we had at the end of July. _______.

John sold his Morris 1100 today. £15!! I think it's quite ridiculous because he paid £150 for it 13 months ago, but he doesn't seem peturbed by his loss. His wild hysteria over the spitfire is probably still colouring his judgement, but I bet he'll regret giving his old car away one day. You mark my words.

Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony came this evening. I was in the midst of watching 'Quo Vadis' a 3-hour film based on the Roman Empire and the Christians, &c. Peter Ustinov is Nero, and Deborah Kerr a sensual slave-girl. Not a good film really. Mum, Dad, Hilda and Tony went to the New Inn to give it the 'once over'. By strange coincidence, John and 'George' were also inspecting the New Inn at the same time, and they came back at 11pm with tales of wonder. Evidently, it isn't a bad place after all, and even John was impressed by the decor. I shall have to see it to believe it. Doubting Thomas is like a rice pudding compared with me.

The Gadsbys return for supper and we tuck into beef sandwiches and sardine sandwiches. John brings 'George' back and Peter Nason is here too. Lynn and Dave are round at Christine D's residence and don't get back until late.

After 'Quo Vadis' I switched onto BBC2 and see the 1705 version of 'Jane Eyre' starring Orson Welles and Olivia de Havilland's plain sister - I can't remember he name now. An outstanding film anyway, and I came to bed after the Gadsby's departure at 12.00.

-==-

Thursday March 20, 1975

A good day really. Frantic in the morning but at least it all passed quickly. Pay day yet again, and it coincides quite conveniently with my Barclaycard repayments. £13 they want this time.

Home on the 4.30 bus where I bump into Martin Vere-Bujnowski, who is at Nottingham Polytechnic. Haven't seen him since Christmas, and apparently he's remained faithful to the Emmotts after all these years, and I suppose he's forgotten that other places of public refreshment exist.

'Private Eye' is funny this week with some good tales of the wedding of Lord and Lady Lichfield. The Queen is always referred to as 'Brenda' which is potty really. The Duke of Edinburgh is 'Keith'. Say no more.

Home to hear from Lynn that Mum won £50 on the Premium Bonds today. Bloody marvellous it really is, and about two years to the day since she last won £50. God only knows what she'll do with it all. Probably invest it. She keeps saying it will not affect her lifestyle in any way, and she doesn't intend buying a mink coat or Rolls-Royce. It's back to work tomorrow at her £30 a week office job - no life of luxury for her. No indeed.

The 17th birthday of Mr Peter Nason. Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave are trotting off for a meal somewhere, and it certainly looks like a champagne all round occasion. I never did anything like this when I was his age. A sign of the times.

Mum had a letter from Ruby and Arthur today. They say they had a letter from Uncle Tony the other week who told them they don't see us anymore due to a squabble over a 'holiday'. A load of balderdash.

After the others had gone to dine Mum and Papa took John and I to the Commercial where we had a few celebratory drinks. Home at 11 for a sherry session with Pete, Sue, Lynn and Dave. Bed at about 12.30.

-==-

Sunday December 29, 1974

1st after Christmas. Wake up in a lousy state at noon. Still fully clad in jeans and cardigan, but all in knots. Am still drunk at 12. After a bath with the window wide open and a large cooked breakfast I disappeared back to bed until 4.30. Came downstairs to be faced by a bowl of Mum's trifle which had gone off. Nearly decided to call it a day and return to bed, but chose to stay to entertain Dave and Lynn, who are discussing tonight's rave at the Gadsby mansion.

They all go at about 6 and I sit about listening to the radio. Once again the fateful December 29 is upon us. The fifth anniversary of the death of Uncle Albert. Not wishing to be too morbid I'd like to say a few words about him. At the age of 14 I had led a completely sheltered life of happiness and domestic bliss. For those 14 years death had been an unknown monster. Like other children, I never expected this ugly __to raise its sombre face in my direction. But, on December 29, 1969, my little world was shattered by the death Uncle Albert, my beloved relative and friend. This event marked a point of some significance. Nobody before or since has died leaving me so upset. In short, he's the only person I ever been close to and lost. That is why I keep this day in horror next to my heart. I realise that before my life is done, many such dates will be of horrid significance to me.

-==-

Saturday December 14, 1974

Death of Prince Albert, 1861. George VI born 1895. Uncle Tony's birthday. 39th I think. Mum, Dad, Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack plus Uncle Harry trot off to Bradford in order to pursue birthday celebrations with the Gadsby clan. They come home in the early hours minus Uncle H - who disappeared in Bradford. Naturally, they are all perturbed about the whereabouts of his person, but one thing's for sure, we have his car parked on our drive awaiting the return of its master.

I was at the YP until 12 when I met John in WH Smiths. We spend three hours on a so-called shopping for Christmas presents spree but after this substantial time lapse I haven't laid hands on one present, and have instead a new pair of shoes and a woolly cardigan. Home on a crowded 55 bus. We sit around waiting for food - in my case, the first meal of the day! Eat fish and chips twice.

To the Hare and Hounds in Kevin Teale's van after arranging to meet Dave Lawson who rang at 8.30. After depositing me at the Hare John and pals go off to Ilkley again and say that they'll see me at the Cow & Calf later. I sit quite alone with a lager until 8.30. Ring Denny who says Adrian didn't turn up tonight after they'd arranged a reconciliation.

Dave and Sandra come in at 8.30, followed by Andy and the Smiths. We all go to the Black Horse - a detestible joint but they all like it - and move on to the Cow & Calf without Dave who didn't fancy it. Wish I hadn't gone. Rubbish it really was. Carol Smith and one of the Denby boys started having a relationship. Peter brings me home after 1am and I have a laugh with Lynn and Dave before going to bed.

-==-

Sunday December 8, 1974

2nd in Advent. A quick day, and it seemed to grow dark very suddenly before the afternoon had even begun. See a rotten 1939 film on TV and listen to the usual radio programmes in the bath.

John goes out with the Denby Twins in their van and ends up at the Cow & Calf until 12. I get a 55 bus which brings back memories of my love affair with Miss Bottomley, and go to the Emmotts where I'm joined by Denny and Marita. Marita has changed her image again - and is no longer endowed with a head of curls. Nevertheless she looks quite stunning. We sit about looking bored and talking about the events of 1974. Marita says I don't look my usual self, and says I need a good romance to cheer me up. That's all I need! Denny says that Adrian is a hypercondriac and a failure. They're going for a meal tomorrow but she says I can take his place because he's in London and 'with a bit of luck won't be back in time', unquote. She also amused me by saying he is a surveyor, but doesn't think 'he could survey a rice pudding'. Back to Marita's where I inspect my landscape framed on her bedroom wall. A great honour for me indeed. Home and about 11 and have supper with Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony, Jill and Diane. Jill is becoming_______.

-==-

Sunday November 10, 1974

22nd after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday again. Wonder whether this is going to go on indefinately until the end of time. In seventy years time no survivors of any of the world wars will be left and I suppose it will become a little less important. Not that we can ever forget those who died in order that we can all live freely, because if we do it will be the ultimate in selfishness. Yes, Remembrance Day is a good thing.

Up at 12. Papa wallpapers the kitchen &continues after lunch. We all sit in front of the TV until about 6, when the top 20 begins.

When the Queen comes to Bradford next Wednesday I intend having the day off to lend my support to the monarchical cause. It will be my first viewing of the Sovereign on Yorkshire soil. I must persuade Sue to accomapny me. It will be an experience for her.

See TV all evening and the Gadsby clan come at about 8. Mum, Dad, Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony go to Esholt and John goes off with Chris and Carol. I sit with Diane and Jill. Little Di is an absolute dear and completely transformed from the obnoxious horror of a couple of years ago.

-==-

Sunday September 22, 1974

15th after Trinity. Up at nearly 12. Have little bacon for breakfast and discuss changing my driving test date with that of Mamas. Come upstairs and unpack and have a bath.

Today is the 26th birthday of Capt Mark Phillips. Let the Bells toll their Joyous News throughout the Kingdom! Some sort of public celebration really ought to be lavished upon the young captain who, after all, rescued Britain's favourite princess from spinsterhood.

The Gadsbys come after tea, and John and I go to the Hare in the 1100 after collecting Carol from her Yeadon residence.

Dave comes with Chris, and never do I fail to have hysterics when Mr Lawson is on the scene. Move on to that soddin' little pub in Askwith that doesn't sell crisps, peanuts 'or anything of that nature, sir'. Snobs! I wouldn't mind but it's only bloody Askwith, not Ascot.

Back to Westfield Fisheries where I dissolved into fits of laughter at Dave, who looking at the large, sprawling woman said: "She must eat two fish for every one she serves." Absolutely sick to death of laughing.

-==-

Monday September 2, 1974

Lousy day with constant rain and drizzle throughout. Nothing much doing at the YP and I don't get out at lunchtime because of the weather, sitting looking at cuttings on the death of George VI instead. Kathleen goes at 4 leaving Sarah and I quite alone for the last hour. Peter Chapman comes in to see us and we laugh at his escapades in love. He's a childish sod. Home at 6 for tea. Feel like going to see Marita tonight to look at the Appletreewick photos, which should be fantastic if they come out like we intended. Give her a ring at 6.30 and she says they are fine. Tell her about Fridays camping expedition to Grassington and she promises to ask MM whether they can go or not. She certainly fancies th idea but cannot answer for her espoused. At about 7 Mama suggests that John and I take her to Pudsey to see Auntie Hilda, who doesn't know about John's little 1100. Papa is working until 10 so we leap at the opportunity. Arrive at the Gadsby residece at about 7.30 and we sit with dear Auntie H and Uncle Tony and the girls drinking home made wine commenting on how revolting it all is (the wine that is). Call in at Westfield fish and chip shop on the way home. Home at 10.30. Dad looks rather pale tonight. -==-

Sunday August 4, 1974

As I've already said, I woke up at about 10.30 or thereabouts on Auntie Eleanor's lounge floor - not two hundred yards from the house where I was born 19 years ago.

Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack seem very unsociable and not very talkative. They don't really speak to poor Neil who is going to Cyrpus or somewhere equally offensive until Christmas at least. Sue and Peter are still in love - after last night, though she still feels very sick. We leave the Myers home at 11.30 after bidding farewell to dear Jackie, my favourite cousin of all time.

Walk to Auntie Hilda's where we drink home brewed beer till after one without having any food at all. Sandwiches with the Gadsbys was quite a laugh, though Uncle Tony departed up a ladder to paint the bedroom windows with the aid of Steve, Karen's boyfriend. Leave for Bradford just after 2 and we are all back at Pine Tops by 4. Mama makes tea for us all - that is Denny, Sue, Peter, Ronnie, Lynn, John, Carol and myself - not forgetting the most important one of all - Uncle "I'm God's annointed" Tony.

To the Hare and Hounds with Denny at 7.30. Carol doesn't speak to John and I fear that Linda must have told her of John's liaison (set for next Wednesday) with his American friend, Carol Shires.


"Rock Your Baby" by George Macrae.

-==-

Sunday July 28, 1974

7th after Trinity. Nice lunch at 1. See 'African Queen' on tv in the afternoon - Katherine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart. Denny rings at about 5.______________________________.

David went out with Denny, MM, and Marita last night - if I'd have thought about it I'd have asked him, David that is, to accompany us to the Stansfield. Ring Dave at about 8 and he says he can't come out tonight because of a shocking cold.

Go to the Commercial where John and I meet the two Americans, Anne and Carol. Peter takes Anne and John takes the other. MM and Marita bring Denny, and Mum, Dad, Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony come shortly after. Tremendous evening. Auntie H is a brilliant success really. MM and Marita decide to come with Denny and I to Spain. Me and Den. are going to Marita's on Monday evening to decide the colour scheme for her bedroom. My painting 'Seascape, 1970' is to be the central feature. I'm quite proud. Chris, who I haven't seen much of, along with Christine W and Carol Smith come back for coffee, Bacardi, Martini, etc. Uncle Tony drinks out of the Spanish wine thing brought back from Malgrat. Hilarious night. Go to my bedroom at 1 and sit re-styling the whole place in my mind. Sit in bed waiting for John to come to bed (It's an old tradition that I am always the last to be awake at night). Seeing Marita earlier and discussing decorating with her has given me the urge to re-do my room. The main problem wit this room is the size, which is ridiculously small, and sharing with a younger brother cannot make matters any better. I decide to go Victorian. Glance at Queen Mary and at 2.30 call it a day and switch off the light.

-==-

Sunday June 30, 1974

3rd after Trinity. Lovely day. Mr and Mrs Gadsby and family come at tea time - very surprising, and they seem quite normal and not at all bitchy, vile, disgusting and degrading. Arrange to go to the Emmotts at 8.30. See Lorraine, June's friend, on the bus, who says that she will be in the Emmotts with Sue Bottomley. June is there and is a picture of beauty. I sit with her until 9.30, when Judy comes - looking very attractive indeed, but she is totally eclipsed by the shining beauty of Miss June Bottomley. Never will I forget the bright yellow dress and brown necklace. Judy doesn't like my company and she brings me home at 10. Sit in the car outside Pine Tops until about 11. Chris brings John home and he tells me that when they went back to the Emmotts at 10.15, June, Lorraine and Susan promised to come to my party on July 12. No doubt June thinks she is saved from the hazzards of my passion because I am going out with someone else - Oh, how wrong she is! No one can take the place of Miss Bottomley in my heart - not even the wealthy landowning ladies of the Bradford suburbs. Supper with the Gadsbys. Bed at 12.


"She" by that French chappie.

-==-

Sunday March 31, 1974

Passion Sunday. A beautiful day - the sun shining brilliantly down on a happy earth. Everyone is thrilled that I am 'going out' with June again though John simply smiles with disbelief. Last night brought me out of a misery I have endured since August 24, a hell of 218 days and nights. I never want to be separate from June ever again - we are made for one another, if you can say such a thing without appearing corny, but this is surely the case.

My mind keeps drifting back to last night at the Emmotts - she says she will go with me on Sunday, but I got her to say Saturday, and it seems as though my 19th birthday party will not be graced with her beauty and I'm quite desolate. This afternoon I thought 'Shall I write to her?' but decide that she would not wish it. After all, I wrote many letters from September till Xmas without any reply, though she says she compiled 2 letters then destroyed them. However, we shall see.

The Gadsby clan came over for tea and stayed until the early hours. Uncle Tony seems much improved on last time - no doubt the climate of recent days agrees with his constitution.


'Billy Don't be a Hero' Paper Lace.

-==-

Saturday January 12, 1974

Up with the larks at 7.0. Love working on Saturday mornings. Not at all as bad as Sarah makes out.________________.

See the film 'Spartacus' in the evening. John goes to the Yorkshire Rose, where he meets the gang. Mum and Dad go to Bradford with Auntie Eleanor, Uncle Jack, Auntie Hilda and Uncle Tony. All the gang come back here at 10.30. Everyone has a great time until 2.0am. Have fun with Denny. Sue comes back from Martyn's at 10.30 saying she's engaged - wearing an engagement ring. Everyone is over the moon. I cannot believe she'd become engaged to Nigel Smith. But it's all fun. Mum and Dad home at 2. They all leave at 2.30. Andy and Linda have got off together again. How long will it last?

-==-

Tuesday January 1, 1974

The radio behind the bar of the Commercial at Esholt announces the arrival of 1974. We all kiss and link arms in the singing of 'auld langs ayne'. Denny, as usual, is emotional at the passing of the old year. By 12.15 Uncle Jack complains he is on the verge of starving to death so we all leave, in dense fog, for Pine Tops.

The party is a tremendous success. Andy, Chris, Linda, Christine W, Peter Mather arrive, followed by MM and Marita. A couple of police officers arrive (as guests) and the party is underway. Uncle Harry is drunk, along with Auntie Hilda. Poor Uncle Tony sleeps in the lounge. The Blackwells came in for an hour or two. Truly a fantastic evening. Chris, in keeping with his previous New Year record, was in a terrible mood. He'll be in trouble next week for not going to Laura's party. Everyone agrees that Mum and Dad are tremendous parents.

Very few people go home, and by 7am most people have fallen asleep in all sorts of places. Cousin Jackie, Neil, Al and Martyn and I awake at about 10 in the lounge. Mr Graham collects Andy, Christine and Linda.

Spend the rest of the day relaxing in front of the tv. My throat is burning and dry, but it isn't down to drink. I consumed very little last night. Poor Auntie Hilda was blind drunk, after knocking back the contents of a whole bottle of Bacardi. She kept calling me: 'My favourite nephew.'

-==-