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Saturday September 11, 1976




Go with Harry, Sam, Mum and Dad, Lynn, Sue & Pete to 69 Silverdale Drive. Somewhat chaotic though because John is laying a floor of woodden blocks in his lounge, and poor Uncle H found himself glued to the floor. He was seconds away from becoming a permanent fixture in his nephew's home. Introduce Sam to Maria. He doesn't believe us when we say she's only 18.

Sue and Peter go off somewhere like a pair of love birds and the rest of us trip off down to the Conmmercial in a deluge. The great dramatic actor Frazer Hines is sitting in the bar surrounded by followers, make-up artists and piss artists. Later we see them filming in the carpark. A dour, old local chap in the tap room says 'somebody should bloody well blow up Emmerdale Farm and have done'. Hear, hear. Joined by Anne, Carol [Americans] and Raymond [Bond]. devour beef sandwiches and knock back lager. A chap [telly producer type]chats with Lynn but nothing comes of it.

John and Maria come up at 5.30 for an evening meal. Beautiful food. Down to the Hare at 9. Joined by Tony. CB goes off to Ilkley to meet Martyn. At 10.45 Tony goes up to Horsforth for Mrs Johnson and they go on to Ilkley too. Family comes back to Pine Tops for a continuation of last night's booze-up. Drink until 3am. Uncle H is one of the most humorous men I have ever encountered.

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Friday September 10, 1976



A wet and blustery day. Go into town at 1.30 and take my latest film into the chemist for developing. Very exciting.

See in the Daily Mail [and later in the EP] that Prince Charles and Davina Sheffield will probably marry next year - according to their friends. Who needs friends with people like that around? Or even who needs enemies with friends like that? [Keep trying the different friends angle and you'll eventually get it right, Michael.] Mum asks if Davina is 'suitable Queen material'. I say yes.

Go to the Hare with Lynne and Susan in Peter's car [Peter N's that is] after 8 o'clock and meet Christine White and a bearded Stuart, who come in to investigate Maria's forthcoming confinement. They leave shortly afterwards. Lynn and Dave come down with cousin Sam [Rhodes] who I haven't seen since 1970-71 or so. He is alright but somewhat withdrawn. Mum and Dad come in with Harry. Back home in pouring rain at 11.30 or so after seeing Carole and Naomi.

Give Lynne a pile of old copies of 'Private Eye' and a packet of tea for Mrs Mather as repayment for all the supplies I consumed last weekend. She goes off in a rainstorm at midnight for Thornton-le-Dale and the rest of us have a drink [a serious one]. Bed at 3.30am.... intoxicated.

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Thursday September 9, 1976


The day that could have been the most eventful day of the year went by without any news from Maria. Dad saw her this lunchtime and he says she had visited the doctor and he's now arranged to see her on Tuesday. Oh God I can't stand all this waiting. Anyone would think it was my baby she is having [don't even think about it].

Stagger to work with what might be termed a 'hangover'. Feel bloody awful. Tell Kathleen my decision to pack in at noon and she offers up no opposition. I get a bus at 12 o'clock and get home for lunch at 12.45. Mum is on edge about Maria. It must be a terrible experience becoming a grandparent at 41. Blimey, in 20 years time I could be 'grandad' material!

By late afternoon I've recovered and by the time Lynne gets here at 7pm I'm in good shape. We go to the Red Lion at Burley [in Whafredale] with Sue & Pete where we see Naomi, Carole and another girl. On to the Rose & Crown in Ilkley and meet Tony and Stuart. At 10 o'clock the four of us go on to Oakwood Hall for a couple of hours. It resembles a scene from the new Hitchcock epic 'Carry On Up the Black Hole of Calcutta'. Ghastly. Tempers were frayed. Home at 12.30 and to bed with Hunter Davies's The Beatles'.

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Wednesday September 8, 1976


Go to Oakwood Hall with Tony. Only a handful of people in the place. Get pissed up and dance with every woman in the building. A Gayle Hunnicutt type caught my eye. Aren't I a naughty lad? Home at 2.30am in a state of intoxication. Nothing more to report other than say Maria's confinement is due tomorrow. In 24 hours time I may well be 'Uncle Michael'.

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Tuesday September 7, 1976


Do you realise that Queen Elizabeth the First is celebrating her birthday quietly somewhere today? The old girl is 443 years old. A grand old age, eh?

Lynne comes up for tea. With Susan & Peter we go to 69 Silverdale Drive to see Maria and John and the progress of the house. Papa is up to his eye-balls in emulsion paint and John is doing something technical with a kitchen cabinet. Poor Maria Looks enormous. Even bigger than before. Is this thing inside her a monster? Will Otley hospital be the scene of some ghoulish trauma? Only time will tell.

At 8 o'clock Lynne, Sue, Pete and self go up to the Emmotts!! See dear old Ivy Fitton who remembers me and asks after John. I tell her he will be a father in a couple of days and she cannot believe it. She also mentions June, as she always does, and says that her fiance is called Brooks. The place is like Benton Park's Old Commrades Association annual general meeting. Sheila Woodhead and Carol [who sat 'A' level history with me] are sat quite near but they don't recognise me. It's Lynne's first visit to the place and after an hour or so we move, inevitably, to the Hare & Hounds. Had a spot of trouble persuading Lynne to go to our favourite ale-house, but we all enjoyed it when we finally arrived.

To Harry Ramsden's at 10.30 and we devour them [fish and chips] in Lynne's car. Peter N didn't want his Dad's machine filling with the aroma of rotting fish and fried potatoes.

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Monday September 6, 1976



Up at approx. 6.45am and have breakfast with Lynne, Peter, Jane, Karl & David. I had forgotten how childish 15 year-olds are. Not having been associated with that group for some six and a half years I seem to have got out of the hang of it. We leave T-le-D at 7.25 for Leeds - the journey takes 90 minutes. Lynne is a good driver really. A pleasant but quiet trip into boring Leeds and all in all we counted 17 dead rabbits flattened on the homeward road. The recording of the number of our dead 'furry friends' may seem a somewhat sombre excercise, but anything to take the mind off the obnoxious silence of Miss Jane ____, and her bilious brother, David, in the back seat. Do all thirteen year-olds have trouble with wind, or is it me?

Work uneventful. Ring Tony, Lynne and mother [in that order. It's not an order of preference either]. To meet Lynne tomorrow; Tony on Wednesday, and will see Mummy at tea time.

New items: The Earl of Leicester is dead, and so too is the 300 year-old wife of former YP chairman Colin Forbes Adam. Peter N passes his driving test.

Nice to see the family again. Mum says Maria is showing no sign of delivering her son into the world. Have a bath and smoke a cigar in front of a Dirk Bogarde film. Lynne nips up with the luggage then drives off in a great haste.

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Sunday September 5, 1976



12th after Trinity. Out of bed at midday for a cooked breakfast with the Mather family [except Donald, who is decorating]. Horror of Horrors! I smashed a rare Meissen plate when I dropped a half-ton butter dish onto it. Mrs M laughs it off but I feel terrible. I never break anything at home. I also accidentally knocked Peter's electric razor off a dresser, showering particles & bristles all over the kitchen.

Lynne and I then creep away to the Cayley Arms. Talk about things. We don't like Jane, and neither does Donald & Vera. I say how much I like her parents - which isn't crawling - but quite sincere. Only us in the pub, which isn't very nice, and so we go for a drive round for an hour or so. Bright sun. We laugh at the sight of a massive 18 stone woman astride a tiny, pathetic, crippled pony, which seems to be dying beneath the weight. Lynne wants to contact the NSPCC or something. Isn't that for cats?

Back to Ty-Onnen for hilarious lunch and then settle down to watch 'Cromwell' starring Richard Harris and with Alec Guinness as the martyred monarch. Retire to bed at midnight after cuccumber sandwiches and Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' on the record player. Listening to Lynne and her father discussing work over supper I realise how terribly ambitious she is. I don't like ambition one bit. I tend to think people become eaten away by it and finish up like Hitler.

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