Tuesday December 5, 1978

Fog again.  I didn't get to work until 9.05am but who cares? No NUJ members were working and we found Malcolm Barker attempting to bring out a newspaper quite alone.

I saw in the Daily Telegraph death announcements that Sir David Salt, Bt, has died. When he was in his fifties in 1975 he married an old woman in her 70s. Also spotted that Lord Harewood's aunt, Viscountess Boyne, has died aged 75. Malcolm was thrilled by these items of news and snatched them up it fill the pages of the pathetic EP.

At 3pm with all the routine work finished I left the office and attempted to get but a bus but none were forthcoming, so I caught a train at 3:45.

Silly Old Jim

Read Kenneth Harris's interview with the Prime Minister in the Observer (Sunday).  Silly Old Jim (Callaghan) says he's going to go on looking after us until he's in his eighties. The beloved leader fails to see why politicians give up and retire at sixty when they are the peak of their brilliance. I agree, Jim. Churchill was almost 150 when they finally shot him, and Mr Gladstone was 463.

I am going to give you ten guesses as to which British monarch was born on December 6. (Yes, I know that's tomorrow). Come on! Who am I? I was styled "Dei Gratia Rex Angliae et Franciae et Dominus Hiberniae" and was born at Windsor on Dec 6, 1421. Crowned at Westminster on Nov 6, 1429, and crowned King of France at Notre Dame, Dec 17, 1431. I married April 22, 1445, Margaret of Anjou, daughter of Rene, Duke of Anjou, titular King of Sicily, Naples and Jerusalem (descended from the Count of Anjou, brother of Charles V). I was deposed after the second Battle of St Albans, March 4, 1461, and re~instated Oct 9, 1470, from when I reigned until taken prisoner in April 1471; I died in the Tower of London shortly after the Battle of Tewkesbury, May 4, 1471, it is supposed by violence, and was buried at Windsor. Who am I? For the answer refer to the block capitals above Dec 9.

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Monday December 4, 1978

This afternoon the National Union of Journalists voted to strike, and according to John MacMurray it may mean a virtual shut~down (of the Yorkshire Post) until the New Year. The editors will not last long working alone. A sad day indeed. However, we in the library will carry on undaunted.

Sarah is off with a cold which is no surprise because she looked washed out all last week. No personal phone calls today - but I did send a quick note to Christine on the prospect of our seeing each other on Thursday.

Carol J saw Jacq on Saturday night at the Regent in Chapel Allerton. ___________________.


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Sunday December 3, 1978

First Sunday in Advent

Bad hangover. Up at 11:30. Devoured a couple of boiled eggs and masses of toast. Mummy said I looked awful.

Spent the afternoon in a coma and only revived at 8 o'clock to watch Patrick Ryecart and Rebecca Saire in 'Romeo & Juliet' on BBC2. Very enjoyable, and just the thing to clear my pickled, pathetic brain. Watched another film with Daddy from 11, and so I didn't hit the sack until after 1am. This was mad I know, because I really needed the sleep.

Pictures in the Sunday papers of the Prince of Wales and Lady Jane Wellesley in Spain. The Duke of Wellington is saying that the couple are just friends, but I expect he's been groomed by Capt Mark Phillips's parents who said exactly the same thing in '73 throughout Anne and Mark's secret courtship. What else can His Grace possibly say though? He can hardly say they've been screwing for three years and that HRH is virtually one of the family. To say such things would put his KG in jeopardy. We shall just have to wait and see, eh? Blimey, how many times have I said this on the subject of the prince and his lady associates? I'm growing steadily worse as a royal pundit. Before long I'll be a male Audrey Whiting, the so~called expert on the royal family, who knows absolutely bugger all when it comes down to it.

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Saturday December 2, 1978

Sun rises 07:45 Sun sets 15:55

Mohammedan New Year {1399}

Snow and ice. Out of bed at 10:30 and had eggs and bacon with David and watched the snow cast a shroud over Burley~in~Wharfedale. I must be dreadfully spoiled at home because this house is just too cold for me. Lynn and Dave just don't seem to notice. No doubt they have become used to the cold, freak, indoor conditions.

I helped Dave with a few chores and he brought me home at about 1pm. Lynn went off to Otley Christmas shopping and Dave returned to his DIY escapades. I went to wallow in a hot bath to de~frost my blue extremities. Passed the remainder of the afternoon idling around and doing bugger all.

Out with Christine at 8:15 to the Shoulder, then the New Inn in Yeadon, and finally to the Fox. Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy and Frank H were in the Fox. Frank says he's going to Crumpet, at Batley, on Dec 15, to celebrate his 21st. Great stuff.

Christine was monopolised by Philip Houldsworth and Garry Walton, and I made her make a hurried departure with me at 11. Slightly foggy. We drove to the Il Trovatore at Ilkley but were refused admission because CB was wearing jeans! This a phenomena. I cannot stand the place anyway. Undaunted, we went on to Oakwood Hall, arriving at 12:15. The place was packed out with Christmas revellers and the whole place was bedecked with artificial Christmas trees, tinsel, and trimmings. It put us in a very festive frame of mind. I became quite pissed but Christine didn't touch alcohol because of the gruesome weather conditions. Home after 2 with bleary eyes and a raging headache. Pernod ~ ugh!

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Friday December 1, 1978

Still foggy and damp.

I phoned Michelle at the travel agents to enquire about apartments in Ibiza for next July or August. She said bookings are going well and many thousands are clamouring for foreign holidays after the disastrous summer at home. She will come back to me tomorrow or Monday. She has such a wonderful, sexy voice.

I did not go out on the razzle this evening. I met David B at 5:30 at Jacomelli's and we drove to Yeadon to collect Lynn at Morrison's. Back to Burley for din~dins and then Dave and I, clad in overalls, slapped gloss paint all over the downstairs living quarters. This was a historic event, because by midnight we had daubed our last splattering of paint on 7, Lawn Road, for some considerable time.

We had a few glasses of sherry to celebrate and watched a western on the microscopic TV and retired to bed at about 2. The house was icy cold, but Lynn had warmed my bed with a hot water bottle.

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Thursday November 30, 1978

New Moon 08:19

St Andrew's Day {Scotland}

It's late so I'm going to be brief. Didn't venture out for the usual orgy of ales and delights of the female form ~ party due to the poor state of my finances, but mainly due to the heavy fog. Very dense and nasty it was.

Jim and Margaret came here at 8:30 and we watched a Greta Garbo film on the BBC.

The Prince of Wales is in Brussels on a visit to the EEC headquarters and tonight he dined with King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola at Laeken Palace. Princess Marie-Astrid was not present though she frequently stays with her uncle, the Belgian king. I do not want HRH to marry a foreign princess when these islands of ours are swarming with English roses. It is heart rending to know that the prince is going on to Spain for the weekend with the Duke of Wellington and Lady Jane Wellesley ~ reputedly a 'shooting weekend'. I do wish he'd pull his finger out.

Bed at 12 o'clock. Susan was in all evening.

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Wednesday November 29, 1978

To Burley~in~Wharfedale with Sarah at 5:30. She looked gorgeous in her new fur coat, but was pale. I am sure she is anaemic.

We sat with Lynn in the cold, drinking sherry and waiting for David, who was putting in some overtime. He came in at 7:30 and we watched "Coronation Street" and giggled. ____________.

Sarah was not impressed by "Edward and Mrs Simpson". It wasn't one of the better episodes of the series.It dealt with Wallis's divorce from Ernest.

The sherry quietened Sarah a good deal and by 10 o'clock she was almost asleep. The news on ITV had us in hysterics. We had the details of Norman Scott's evidence at Jeremy Thorpe's committal proceedings at Minehead. Intricate details of sexual assaults, buggery in the House of Commons, vaseline, towels, ministers without portfolio, &c. All good stuff.

Home in the fog and freezing conditions at 10:30. It was a long slog. Sarah's fur coat was frozen solid. Poor soul.

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