20120819

Friday September 9, 1977

Busy at the YP. Just Kathleen and I. However, after eight hours toiling we were still living and I was out and finished for the weekend.

Tony took John and Maria to Blackpool for the day, and he rang at 6 to say he'd be over in a couple of hours with Martyn. To the Harrogate Arms where we met Naomi, Carolle Jones, Graham Peel, the Royal We, Carole, Fogarty, Dave Lazenby, Ron (Denise's Ron), and others. I just didn't feel right. Was sick to death of everyone. __________. Miss Phillips was a pain in the neck. Why does she have to be so bloody childish? Oh, what does it matter anyway? In 200 years time who'll give a damn? Three pints later we left for home.I informed them of my visit to Harewood next Friday. They want tickets too, but when I say they're £8 they fall into a silence. I say I'm staying in tomorrow, but neither believed me I think.

Mum and Dad were watching an ancient film 'Family Way' and I plonked myself down with them.

-==-

20120818

Thursday September 8, 1977

Miserable bloody weather. I had a rare half day and managed to escape at 12. At lunchtime I went with Sue, Peter and Uncle H to the Commercial where we had roast beef and dripping sandwiches and a few pints. Mum and Dad came in at 2. Annie (Lindley) sat on my knee and we laughed our heads off.
Annie Lindley.

Uncle H, being alcoholic, is pissed as a frog after three pints, and to make matters worse he bought a bottle of whisky from the bar to take back for a further session.

Later we were joined by Edith and Ernest and knocked back ginger beer, wine, whisky, lager and beer. By 7 o'clock we were all canned and some of the party were complaining of hunger. Within minutes we were at the Hare (where Judith was playing at barmaids) on our way to the Flying Pizzatoo at Burley-in-Wharfedale. The restaurant was jam packed and we seemed to be waiting hours for our food.

Harry's changed a good deal since April. He's older and not half the fun he once was.

We all went back to Edith and Ernest's at about 11 for glasses of his cloudy pink champagne, but the end of the night was ruined by Uncle Harry's behaviour. At 12.30 he stormed out, packed his pathetic belongings and was away down the lane with his dog, Tan, telling me to 'piss off' and that he will never come back to Yorkshire. Isn't it a terrible thing? Mum came home with a raging headache.

Dom(inic) Melville arrived at some late hour to say he had seen Harry walking towards Rawdon and wanted to know if there was anything he could do.

-=-

Wednesday September 7, 1977

A busy day. Carol J is off with some mysterious disease ___________, and Sarah is a complete misery and goes home at 4 feeling off it. When she gets low she really does just that. ______.

TUC conference.
The newspapers today are quite void of news other than the insane ramblings of the TUC at their Blackpool conference. When I'm the absolute power in this land that little organisation is one which will be liquidated straight away, no messing, despite the fact that I am a member of the National Graphical Association, or something equally hideous.

Tony phoned and asked if I fancied going with him and Naomi to visit Steve Hailes in hospital. I declined the invitation because no doubt the hospital visit will have culminated in some sort of liquid excercise which I can ill afford. He quite understood.

Martyn came at 9 to have Sue cut his hair, leaving shortly afterwards with a far more groomed appearance. Good old Martyn. Lynn is getting on my nerves. ________________________. David came up tonight, Dave B, that is. ___________.

-=-


20120817

Tuesday September 6, 1977

Lady Jane Wellesley
Chatting with Uncle Harry tonight we decided to form a new political party. The National Rhodes Party, or the NRP. I'm going to be chancellor, Mum is going to put on her big hat and make history by being the first woman Home Secretary, and Uncle H is earmarked for Prime Minister. The small moustache and grey hair are his credentials. We haven't yet decided just what job Dad will fill, but no doubt we'll come up with something. A good idea, don't you think? We would do a damn sight better than Mr Callaghan and Company, of this I'm sure.


The YP was up to its usual standard. Kathleen was a pain in the neck and Sarah was in a ghastly mood all day. So we had quite a cheerful time of it.

Harry: Prime Minister.

One of the papers (the Sun, I think) says Lady Jane Wellesley is back on the scene with the Prince of Wales. The woman is in her 27th year and I hardly think she's up to any rigorous sessions of child-bearing which will of course be necessary if she marries the heir. Besides, we don't want a Queen with ________.Will she do for Prince Andrew, perhaps?


Watched TV tonight. Mum, Dad and Harry went to the Commercial for a quick one, and it was on their arrival home at 10.30 that the plans for Britain's new political leadership emerged.

-=-

Monday September, 5, 1977

 A most interesting day all in all. Lynn was nasty this morning about me going to the barbecue on Saturday. It made me angry because never have I felt so right about an action in my whole life. ___________.

At tea time Susan made a massive meal for the family expecting the arrival of Mum, Dad and Uncle Harry - but they didn't arrive, and the food intended for them was devoured by me at various periods throughout the evening.

I phoned John G in Rawtenstall and told him we'd be over on September 17. Watched a TV programme on Lord Lichfield which was good. Mum, Dad and Harry and the dog, Tan, arrived at about 10 and we had a minor home brew session which took us through until 12.45. We discussed the Lane Fox family and the fact that old Wetherby people Brigadier Hargreaves, the pompous Lord Lieutenant, and Sir Kenneth Parkinson, our beloved chairman, are married to sisters.

-=-

Sunday September 4, 1977

13th after Trinity. Yes, Naomi and I put up a Christmas tree and decorated it with newspaper. Oh what a state it was in this morning. I was actually beginning to believe that the festive season was upon us.
with Martyn at Bolton Abbey.

Tony and Martyn came at about 3. I wasn't all that talkative. Wendy, Georgina and G's sister (I've forgotten her bloody name) joined us in Ilkley and we motored to Bolton Abbey for the remaining portion of the afternoon. We walked by the river taking the occasional silly photograph and then went for a riotous cup of tea and a bun at the Bolton Abbey Cafe. My ginger cake was a collector's piece - mid 18th century, I think..

We returned to the flat for cheese on toast and then shot off to the Craven Heifer for a hectic, hot, and horribly sticky night out. It was like the 1975 London Tube Disaster all over again - only worse. We were crammed in a corner away from the music and the dirty jokes. By now I was decidedly dull-witted and uncommunicative. Home at midnight. Everyone nicely tucked up in bed except Mummy and Daddy who are visiting Uncle Harry in Cumbria (since Saturday noon) and I do the same. Retire that is.

-=-

Saturday September 3, 1977

Eileen and Michael's wedding day. David B and I went to see Sarah & Delia at 12 and we took photos of the dogs on the Collis's spacious lawn. From here we went to the Queen's Arms just for one solitary drink. I haven't been in the Queen's for a couple of years, in fact since the pub crawl with Sarah and Carol J when I proposed marriage, amongst other things, to Miss Collis.

Left David at about 1pm and went to the YP to collect Kathleen. Together we went to Mirfield and the Dusty Miller pub for a few more. We arrived at the church at 2 o'clock just as Eileen arrived on the arm of her father. By 2.30 they were married. At the reception I was on a table with Delia, Sarah, Kathleen and Steve (the lad from the stag party). Eileen looked very happy.

Delia brought me home at 5.30 and tonight Dave B and I went to the Malt Shovel at Baildon. Joined by Tony and Martyn and at 11.30 we collected Naomi and went to a barbecue at Carlton. John and Maria were there. On to Il Trovatore where Naomi and I danced with a string of tinsel. When she brought me home at 2.30 we put up the Christmas decorations.

-=-

Wednesday May 2, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11 Mum. To try and keep a journal, run and pub and a baby is asking the impossible. Gone is that old wit and sparkle b...