Abdication of King Edward VIII, 1936. Miss Went is away for two days and a relaxed atmosphere prevails at the YP. Little Janice is far too domineering in her attitude to me - I'll put her in her rightful place before very long.
Praise be to God in Heaven! It's happened. The Burtons are back together again. Poor Liz was wheeled out of hospital by a jubilant Richard, and the couple flew to Rome to spend Christmas with Sophia Loren. This really does go to show that true love always finds a way. Liz said she'd separated from Richard because 'we love each other too much'. Eh?
Poor Mark Phillips is in bed and not with Princess Anne it seems. The poor boy has gastro-entiritis. Must be all that South American food he's been getting. Poor chap.
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20090513
Sunday December 9, 1973
2nd in Advent. A completely restful day. Listen to Jimmy Savile all afternoon. Dad gives John and me dirty looks through the window - but how can he expect us to leap up and spend all day pulling up the dead foliage in his herbacious border? The sabbath is for rest, and we certainly obeyed that command.
No one rang in the evening and Lynn, Sue and I watched a Stewart Grainger and Jean Simmonds film 'Footsteps in the Fog' - quite thrilling. John went out with Christine W, and Mum and Dad went to Esholt where they saw Chris, Andy and Laura with the Cartwright Set. Mother thinks_____________. I'd better not tell him. He'd never come again. Bed after 'Up Sunday' at 12.
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No one rang in the evening and Lynn, Sue and I watched a Stewart Grainger and Jean Simmonds film 'Footsteps in the Fog' - quite thrilling. John went out with Christine W, and Mum and Dad went to Esholt where they saw Chris, Andy and Laura with the Cartwright Set. Mother thinks_____________. I'd better not tell him. He'd never come again. Bed after 'Up Sunday' at 12.
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Saturday December 8, 1973
Get up at about 11. Do absolutely nothing all day, until evening that is. Chris rings early on and says he's going to the Emmotts. I ring Denise who is in the bath, and then have a bath myself. I hear from Chris that Denny purchased a moped the other day! I can just imagine dear Denny racing through the wilds of Arthington like a cat out of hell!
Meet Peter Mather, Philip Cartwright and Finlay - we all rush off to the Commercial at Esholt - Mum and Dad's local. Such a strange pub - more like the drawing room of a Victorian vicarage. Very Dickensian. Philip and Fin go off to do a disco, and we three return to the Emmotts. I have a Guinness and decide I ought to drink it more often. Mind you, anything is better than the Emmotts bitter, which is quite revolting. Peter brings me home after fish and chips from the shop opposite the Emmotts. Go to bed at about 12.30 after watching Phil Silvers on the Parkinson programme - quite funny.
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Meet Peter Mather, Philip Cartwright and Finlay - we all rush off to the Commercial at Esholt - Mum and Dad's local. Such a strange pub - more like the drawing room of a Victorian vicarage. Very Dickensian. Philip and Fin go off to do a disco, and we three return to the Emmotts. I have a Guinness and decide I ought to drink it more often. Mind you, anything is better than the Emmotts bitter, which is quite revolting. Peter brings me home after fish and chips from the shop opposite the Emmotts. Go to bed at about 12.30 after watching Phil Silvers on the Parkinson programme - quite funny.
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Friday December 7, 1973
Busy day at the YP. I made photostat copies of all the family births, marriages and death certificates.
A very pleasant evening. Chris, Peter Mather, Laura and her friend Maggie, Andy, Philip Cartwright and myself all went to the Cow & Calf which is now 'Samantha's' - really beautiful now, but the memories of the old place will always linger. Dance until 2.0. Peter brings me home to the door. It is a cold, rainy night. Christmas is only 3 weeks away - not likely to be a white one either.
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A very pleasant evening. Chris, Peter Mather, Laura and her friend Maggie, Andy, Philip Cartwright and myself all went to the Cow & Calf which is now 'Samantha's' - really beautiful now, but the memories of the old place will always linger. Dance until 2.0. Peter brings me home to the door. It is a cold, rainy night. Christmas is only 3 weeks away - not likely to be a white one either.
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Thursday December 6, 1973
Pay day again. I receive an extra twenty odd pence. Old Mr Linacre must have realised by now that my service to the YP is invaluable.
Arrive home at 6.30. The train from Leeds was incredibly slow. Uncles Harry and Bert are devouring my evening meal. Uncle B is still suffering with a bad foot, gangrine or something.
Dad is so pleased to see his brothers. Mum thinks Uncle B is a strange character. He is so vague. Uncle Harry is my favourite uncle on Dad's side of the family - with a funny sense of humour. They go out to Burley-in-Wharfedale to see cousin Dorothy, who resides at the White Horse, not returning until 2.30. I see tv until 12.
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Arrive home at 6.30. The train from Leeds was incredibly slow. Uncles Harry and Bert are devouring my evening meal. Uncle B is still suffering with a bad foot, gangrine or something.
Dad is so pleased to see his brothers. Mum thinks Uncle B is a strange character. He is so vague. Uncle Harry is my favourite uncle on Dad's side of the family - with a funny sense of humour. They go out to Burley-in-Wharfedale to see cousin Dorothy, who resides at the White Horse, not returning until 2.30. I see tv until 12.
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Wednesday December 5, 1973
The train to Leeds is getting hideous. More and more people have to stand, and when petrol rationing comes in it can only get worse. The train will be even worse on Tuesday, when the railworkers go slow. What a state this nation is in.
See in the YP that Sir William Worsley, father of the Duchess of Kent, died at Hovingham last night. The new owner of Hovingham Hall is Sir Marcus Worsley, 5th Baronet, who is 49. I do not pretend to be a keen admirer of the Worsley clan, but the late Sir William was born on April 5, and for that reason alone he deserves a mention.
At 1.0 I meet Chris and Laura at the Jubilee, near the Town Hall, a pleasant half an hour. For lunch I had 2 egg and cress sandwiches.
The honeymoon of Pcss. Anne and Capt. Phillips ended today and they began an official visit to Ecuador in South America. The couple were all bronzed with the sun, and Mark looked quite pleased with himself. I am afraid to say the princess looked somewhat sullen.
Tv boring all evening. Bed 11.0pm.
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See in the YP that Sir William Worsley, father of the Duchess of Kent, died at Hovingham last night. The new owner of Hovingham Hall is Sir Marcus Worsley, 5th Baronet, who is 49. I do not pretend to be a keen admirer of the Worsley clan, but the late Sir William was born on April 5, and for that reason alone he deserves a mention.
At 1.0 I meet Chris and Laura at the Jubilee, near the Town Hall, a pleasant half an hour. For lunch I had 2 egg and cress sandwiches.
The honeymoon of Pcss. Anne and Capt. Phillips ended today and they began an official visit to Ecuador in South America. The couple were all bronzed with the sun, and Mark looked quite pleased with himself. I am afraid to say the princess looked somewhat sullen.
Tv boring all evening. Bed 11.0pm.
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Tuesday December 4, 1973
I awake at 7.55 with Dad's friend hammering on the door. Everyone had over slept. By 8.20 I was in Guiseley station. Phew!
Kathleen was not very pleasant at work today because last night she was "popped up" to the eye balls. The poor dear had a hangover.
My typing lessons finished today until next Monday - a weeks break will do me the world of good. Typing is such monotony at 'Sight & Sound'. Bed 10.30.
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Kathleen was not very pleasant at work today because last night she was "popped up" to the eye balls. The poor dear had a hangover.
My typing lessons finished today until next Monday - a weeks break will do me the world of good. Typing is such monotony at 'Sight & Sound'. Bed 10.30.
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