Foggy day again. The YP was uneventful other than an article in the EP re the Prince of Wales's interview with "Woman's Own" magazine about his love life and aspects of his future position. He says that marriage is out whilst he's in the navy, and that 30 is a nice age to do it, if it's to be done at all. The Daily Mail some time ago published an article about HRH at a London discotheque "wrapped around a blonde (who wishes to remain anonymous)". Who that blonde is is anyone's guess. Diana Dors?
At 4.30 I'm leaving the office, minding my own business, when I clapped eyes on the 35 bus. "Ah" I thought "instead of waiting for the 33, I'll go on this one". So I did, and stumbled upon the shapely form of Miss Marita Fountain, who immediately began extracting inmformation about Andy and Linda's engagement. She says that Denise saw Linda, Andy and Christine White in the Stone Trough the other night. I learn that Mr & Mrs White have been entertaining Stuart's Mum & Dad. Xmas engagement?
________________________.Whilst this interesting conversation is developing with Marita I detect several freak jerks coming from the bus turbines. Within minutes we are standing on the kerb in thick fog, cursing the pile of red painted metal that was once a great instrument of public transport. We are joined by Philip Knowles, who never changes. The three of us use our initiative and walk towards Horsforth in order to get the next bus. Our plan fails and at the crematorium we are confronted with a problem. A full bus with only space for one more soul. After searching our hearts Philip and I decide to sacrifice ourselves for Marita's sake. She disappeared over the horizon on a warm, bright, cheery bus full of people singing together and praising the Lord that they are fortunate enough to have been endowed with a seat by the gracious permission of the West Yorkshire Road Car Co.
Philip and I were lucky to get a later bus and I was home in the darkness of night.
News: see that Australia is having difficulties. The Governor-General has sacked the Prime Minister and appointed the opposition leader in his place. Rampaging mobs of Aussie agitators now roam at will through Sydney.
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20100613
Monday November 10, 1975
Monday morning again. Sarah is off with some undisclosed illness, and of course Kathleen never comes in on Mondays. So we have a busy day really.
Derek Foster brings over a letter from the Duchess of Leinster who is complaining about the way the press have treated the duke over his bankruptcies. She says he's been ever so upset about the things we've said, and adds "people do make mistakes when they are young", and it is wrong of the press to keep harping on about the past. I agree with the duuchess in all these things except the bit about the duke making mistakes when he was young. His Grace is now 83, and he was a bankrupt until 1970. I hardly think that "making mistakes when you are young" applies to a 78 year-old man.
Ring Marita at her place of work and tell her of the engagement. She is bowled over by it. __________. Marita also says that she'll inform MM. I always laugh at Marita. Don's ask me why, because if you do I'll only give you a negative reply.
Home at 5.20 as usual and Carole rings me. We decide not to meet tonight. _____. However, she rings again at 8pm from Maria's and I invite her round here. She arrives while I'm in the throes of 'Coronation Street', and we have a coffee with Mum, Sue and Peter. Carole is like a child in many ways and one would never believe that she is older than Lynn. So many things have to be explained to her in great detail. I sometimes feel like a teacher when we're together. Quite an attractive schoolgirl she is, too!
See a film at 9.20 "Quatermass and the Pit". I liked it. We then saw (Uncle) Harold Wilson speaking at the Lord Mayor's Banquet. I'm horrified what I see staring at me from the tv screen. A haggard, pale, anaemic old gent who doesn't like being with us at Christmas. These past few months have certainly aged him beyond his years. Let us hope that the shining example set by General Franco will not go unheeded at No 10, Downing Street. He finishes speaking at 11.30 and I then walk Carole to Menston. It's a nice evening and the walk did me some good I'm sure.
Home at 12.45 and leap with relief beneath the sheets.
-==-
Derek Foster brings over a letter from the Duchess of Leinster who is complaining about the way the press have treated the duke over his bankruptcies. She says he's been ever so upset about the things we've said, and adds "people do make mistakes when they are young", and it is wrong of the press to keep harping on about the past. I agree with the duuchess in all these things except the bit about the duke making mistakes when he was young. His Grace is now 83, and he was a bankrupt until 1970. I hardly think that "making mistakes when you are young" applies to a 78 year-old man.
Ring Marita at her place of work and tell her of the engagement. She is bowled over by it. __________. Marita also says that she'll inform MM. I always laugh at Marita. Don's ask me why, because if you do I'll only give you a negative reply.
Home at 5.20 as usual and Carole rings me. We decide not to meet tonight. _____. However, she rings again at 8pm from Maria's and I invite her round here. She arrives while I'm in the throes of 'Coronation Street', and we have a coffee with Mum, Sue and Peter. Carole is like a child in many ways and one would never believe that she is older than Lynn. So many things have to be explained to her in great detail. I sometimes feel like a teacher when we're together. Quite an attractive schoolgirl she is, too!
See a film at 9.20 "Quatermass and the Pit". I liked it. We then saw (Uncle) Harold Wilson speaking at the Lord Mayor's Banquet. I'm horrified what I see staring at me from the tv screen. A haggard, pale, anaemic old gent who doesn't like being with us at Christmas. These past few months have certainly aged him beyond his years. Let us hope that the shining example set by General Franco will not go unheeded at No 10, Downing Street. He finishes speaking at 11.30 and I then walk Carole to Menston. It's a nice evening and the walk did me some good I'm sure.
Home at 12.45 and leap with relief beneath the sheets.
-==-
20100612
Sunday November 9, 1975
24th after Trinity. Remembrance Sunday. Believe it or not, I was out of bed at 9.30 this morning, an all time record for this year. I never see Sunday until noon, but it is of course Remembrance Day. Had breakfast with Mum and Dad and then watched the age-old wreath laying ceremony at the Cenotaph on the BBC. Her Majesty did her usual bit in her traditional style, and the Prince of Wales, Duke of Kent and Prince Michael deposited similar objects of mouring and the foot of that "empty, uplifted tomb". The Duchess of Kent was in the 'royal box' at the Home Office.
The Andy-Linda engagement is on everyones mind today. Linda told me last night that we should all be thinking about settling down now that she and Andy had set "the ball rolling". I think Christine White and Stuart may well be next to get hitched, but as far as the Rhodes family is concerned I cannot hear wedding bells for at least a couple of years yet._______.I am happy for them both, and my wishes for many years of happiness go with them.
I linger about waiting for Carole to ring me all day. By 7pm I'm giving up hope but at 7.45 she rings saying the relations have kept her from the phone all day.
I meet her at 8.20 and we nip into the Hare which is completely dead. I'm sick of the place and after half an hour we leave. She is such fun, and we walk to Menston village, playing in the leaves on the way and acting about on the roundabout in the park. We arrive at the Menston Arms in a state verging on mild hysteria. Why is it that we always end up screaming with laughter when we're in the open air? Inside pub lounges we are quiet as mice. After a pleasant drink in the Menston Arms we go back to the bus stop near the Hare where I get a bus at about a quarter to eleven.
Carole's birthday is looming on the horizon and I'm still no wiser about what to buy her. It's far too near Christmas for comfort really, and the thought of having to find all those presents is somewhat daunting really. The monetary aspect is OK, but my imagination does not extend to gift-buying.
-==-
The Andy-Linda engagement is on everyones mind today. Linda told me last night that we should all be thinking about settling down now that she and Andy had set "the ball rolling". I think Christine White and Stuart may well be next to get hitched, but as far as the Rhodes family is concerned I cannot hear wedding bells for at least a couple of years yet._______.I am happy for them both, and my wishes for many years of happiness go with them.
I linger about waiting for Carole to ring me all day. By 7pm I'm giving up hope but at 7.45 she rings saying the relations have kept her from the phone all day.
I meet her at 8.20 and we nip into the Hare which is completely dead. I'm sick of the place and after half an hour we leave. She is such fun, and we walk to Menston village, playing in the leaves on the way and acting about on the roundabout in the park. We arrive at the Menston Arms in a state verging on mild hysteria. Why is it that we always end up screaming with laughter when we're in the open air? Inside pub lounges we are quiet as mice. After a pleasant drink in the Menston Arms we go back to the bus stop near the Hare where I get a bus at about a quarter to eleven.
Carole's birthday is looming on the horizon and I'm still no wiser about what to buy her. It's far too near Christmas for comfort really, and the thought of having to find all those presents is somewhat daunting really. The monetary aspect is OK, but my imagination does not extend to gift-buying.
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Saturday November 8, 1975
News Flash Edition: It isn't often I begin a page with news of such excitement, but what I am about to say does call for some special notice. At 8.45pm this evening I learned that Andy and Linda are engaged!
My special "news flash" editions are a rarity indeed. The engagement of Princess Anne and Mark Phillips and Christine Braithwaite finishing with Chris are the only previous times I have headed a page with such a thing and for Mr Graham and his future wife it must be a great honour.
Got up at 12.30 or so,. and lounge about in a dressing gown for an hour or so. Met Carole at the White Cross at 2.30 and we went to Bradford. Spend a pleasant couple of hours round the shops and get a belt at £1.75 from 'Miss Selfridge' of all places. One nice aspect of going out with a girl is that you can pick up nice clothes and accessories in girls' shops without people thinking it funny. (Don't worry folks - I'm no transvestite.) Home at 5.15 and leap in the bath. Wear the blue trousers I purchased about a week ago and the new belt.
Dave, Lynn, John, Sue and I walk to Maria's, and then hang about waiting for Pete, who doesn't turn up. We all, except Pete, set off for the Hare, and Dave and Lynn go to Carole's with me. In the Hare Pete flies at Sue like something not right. I could kill him after seeing him hurt my little lamb of a sister, who has never done a thing wrong in the whole of her life.
Hear Andy and Linda's news. Chris comes in with Gillian and leaves half an hour later to go "see the Queen at the Royal Albert Hall Remembrance Service" on TV. A likely tale indeed.
Linda says we should all get engaged now that she and Mr Graham have "set the ball rolling". Who knows. To the Cow & Calf until 2. A good night, but no space to report on it any further.
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My special "news flash" editions are a rarity indeed. The engagement of Princess Anne and Mark Phillips and Christine Braithwaite finishing with Chris are the only previous times I have headed a page with such a thing and for Mr Graham and his future wife it must be a great honour.
Got up at 12.30 or so,. and lounge about in a dressing gown for an hour or so. Met Carole at the White Cross at 2.30 and we went to Bradford. Spend a pleasant couple of hours round the shops and get a belt at £1.75 from 'Miss Selfridge' of all places. One nice aspect of going out with a girl is that you can pick up nice clothes and accessories in girls' shops without people thinking it funny. (Don't worry folks - I'm no transvestite.) Home at 5.15 and leap in the bath. Wear the blue trousers I purchased about a week ago and the new belt.
Dave, Lynn, John, Sue and I walk to Maria's, and then hang about waiting for Pete, who doesn't turn up. We all, except Pete, set off for the Hare, and Dave and Lynn go to Carole's with me. In the Hare Pete flies at Sue like something not right. I could kill him after seeing him hurt my little lamb of a sister, who has never done a thing wrong in the whole of her life.
Hear Andy and Linda's news. Chris comes in with Gillian and leaves half an hour later to go "see the Queen at the Royal Albert Hall Remembrance Service" on TV. A likely tale indeed.
Linda says we should all get engaged now that she and Mr Graham have "set the ball rolling". Who knows. To the Cow & Calf until 2. A good night, but no space to report on it any further.
-==-
Friday November 7, 1975
I don't really feel like saying the usual things about the time I 'got up' or the flavour of the cheese I devoured in my sandwiches this lunchtime. To be honest, it's now 3am on the morning of November 9. I'm just back from the Cow & Calf if you must know, but I'd better say something about what happened on this date before I go off into paroxysms about other more interesting things.
Went to Carole's at 8.15. Her eye (the left one)is all bandaged up. Evidently, it swells up with migrane and is too unsightly to leave unmasked for any length of time. We go over to the Hare where she receives all the usual cracks: "where's your parrot?" and "Look at Long John Sylvia!". We have a good time and go back to her place at 11.15 where we see the end of The Avengers.
I gave Carole 2 letters. One dealing with the CB Affair. She is a darling through and through, is Carole.
Reflections: Am I lagging behind? Have I missed the bus, as it were? Friends getting engaged and driving around in cars whilst I plod along with public transport and a gorgeous girlfriend who won't stay with me for much longer when she gives up hope of ever finding happiness with a self-seeking, arrogant, vain, callous cynic like wot I am. I know it's harsh but it's all so true. Something must be done I know, but what? OK, I'm mad, but what else do you expect? Besides, you can't be all that intelligent if you're wasting your time reading a load of clapped-out rubbish like this. Haven't you anything better to do? For God's sake, pull yourself together. Don't give up just because I have!!!
-==-
Went to Carole's at 8.15. Her eye (the left one)is all bandaged up. Evidently, it swells up with migrane and is too unsightly to leave unmasked for any length of time. We go over to the Hare where she receives all the usual cracks: "where's your parrot?" and "Look at Long John Sylvia!". We have a good time and go back to her place at 11.15 where we see the end of The Avengers.
I gave Carole 2 letters. One dealing with the CB Affair. She is a darling through and through, is Carole.
Reflections: Am I lagging behind? Have I missed the bus, as it were? Friends getting engaged and driving around in cars whilst I plod along with public transport and a gorgeous girlfriend who won't stay with me for much longer when she gives up hope of ever finding happiness with a self-seeking, arrogant, vain, callous cynic like wot I am. I know it's harsh but it's all so true. Something must be done I know, but what? OK, I'm mad, but what else do you expect? Besides, you can't be all that intelligent if you're wasting your time reading a load of clapped-out rubbish like this. Haven't you anything better to do? For God's sake, pull yourself together. Don't give up just because I have!!!
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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.
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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.
-==-
Wednesday November 5, 1975
The 370th anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot. Or, the day Guy Fawkes couldn't strike a light.
I can hardly believe that it is a year ago tonight since my affair with Miss Sarah Collis reached one of its highest peaks. Don't try and tell me you've forgotten? If you have I'll be ever so hurt because it one was one of the red-letter days of last year. However, it pains me to cast my mind back to the close of that fateful night when Mick Johnson had us bundled into a taxi at 2.30 in the morning to be driven home via Southport or somewhere equally disassociated with the Yorkshire area, by a sizeable lady taxi driver.
Dad gave me a lift to Carole's at 8.15. She was wearing a poppy in her cardigan which looked attractive. I haven't seen as many about his year. The British Legion must have forgotten about it (Remembrance Day).
We walkd down to the .... wait for it ....Fox and Hounds. We don't like the place. It always reminds me of St Paul's Cathedral. Outside we are choked by the pub bonfire, and the fireworks are making one hell of a racket. Amidst all the flames, smoke and sulphur we see Christine D and Helen heading towards us. We shake them off, and five minutes later we head up towards the Hare only to be confronted by CB and Shirley. Christine tells me she failed her driving test today and I offer my condolences.
Carole and I carry on to the Hare. It seems our quest for peace, quiet and seclusion can never be because no sooner are we in the Hare when John and Maria are upon us. We stay until 10.30 and the conversation drifts to the subject of Carole's hair. Vidal Sassoon is having the honour to style it a week on Saturday, and because she's who she is, he is only going to charge her £13!
Over at the bus stop we stand withy the two Christines until they get the 33 bus. I'm home at 11.30 and though I loathe to admit it I see it is turning foggy again - or 'Jack the Ripper' weather, as Dad quaintly calls it.
-==-
I can hardly believe that it is a year ago tonight since my affair with Miss Sarah Collis reached one of its highest peaks. Don't try and tell me you've forgotten? If you have I'll be ever so hurt because it one was one of the red-letter days of last year. However, it pains me to cast my mind back to the close of that fateful night when Mick Johnson had us bundled into a taxi at 2.30 in the morning to be driven home via Southport or somewhere equally disassociated with the Yorkshire area, by a sizeable lady taxi driver.
Dad gave me a lift to Carole's at 8.15. She was wearing a poppy in her cardigan which looked attractive. I haven't seen as many about his year. The British Legion must have forgotten about it (Remembrance Day).
We walkd down to the .... wait for it ....Fox and Hounds. We don't like the place. It always reminds me of St Paul's Cathedral. Outside we are choked by the pub bonfire, and the fireworks are making one hell of a racket. Amidst all the flames, smoke and sulphur we see Christine D and Helen heading towards us. We shake them off, and five minutes later we head up towards the Hare only to be confronted by CB and Shirley. Christine tells me she failed her driving test today and I offer my condolences.
Carole and I carry on to the Hare. It seems our quest for peace, quiet and seclusion can never be because no sooner are we in the Hare when John and Maria are upon us. We stay until 10.30 and the conversation drifts to the subject of Carole's hair. Vidal Sassoon is having the honour to style it a week on Saturday, and because she's who she is, he is only going to charge her £13!
Over at the bus stop we stand withy the two Christines until they get the 33 bus. I'm home at 11.30 and though I loathe to admit it I see it is turning foggy again - or 'Jack the Ripper' weather, as Dad quaintly calls it.
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