20170315

Wednesday April 11, 1979

_. Warmer today, but still damp. Lynn came from her weekly shopping extravaganza at Morrison's and remained to dinner. David B came from the office seething with rage and hate after a confrontation with Messers Thompson & Spencer on the topic of his diabolical salary. I do believe he receives less than me. I find this mind-boggling. It means he is running a car, a home and a wife on something like £30 a week! I shudder at this because I find it hard to get by ~ and I have no commitments at all. My £30 is beer, whore, and bus fare money. Oh dear.

To change the subject Sarah and I are back communicating with each other. We plan to go to Lanzarote together in the autumn to stay with John & Sheila. Will this come about, or am I writing balderdash in order to fill a blank page? Wait and see, but at the moment we are deadly serious.

The election campaign dominates the news. I am saying nothing, but my mind is made up, and I don't need to be convinced by any political party and so I can ignore the whole thing until May 3.

Princess Michael of Kent has named her son Frederick. I am quite taken aback by this. It hasn't been used as a first Christian name in the Royal Family since Frederick Augustus, Duke of York [1763-1827], the _Grand Old Duke of York_ the second son of George III. Before him we had Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales [1707-51] who is the new baby's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Of course, George III was George William Frederick, and George V was George Frederick Arthut George, and George VI was Albert Frederick Arthur George. So it isn't altogether an alien name. Princess Michael's brother is Baron Frederick von Reibnitz.

Retired to bed at 1:00am.

-=-

20170314

Tuesday April 10, 1979

_.  Jim Rawnsley insists that the so-called Yorkshire Ripper is none other than the Earl of Harewood, our ugly royal opera fanatic. Jim's theory is that he [the Ripper] has to be a member of the Royal Family in the tradition of Jack the Ripper, of Victorian London, who undoubtedly was Edward, Prince of Wales. I smiled at all this as we journeyed to Leeds because Jim expounds his theory in such a charming and amusing way. Wouldn't it be marvellously embarrassing for the YP if this was so? Whilst the fiend was in the boardroom swilling gin and humming along to Wagner with Gordon Linacre, forty thousand journalists are scouring the county searching for clues. Sadly, the identikit mug shots of the supposed mad man bear no resemblance to his Lordship. Another likely candidate, according to Jim, is Brigadier Kenneth Hargreaves, the former Lord Lieutenant of this charming, picturesque county.

I am enraged and spitting blood at the bloody civil servants strike, which is affecting the payment of my national savings certificate. I need £120 in May [to pay for my holiday] and things don't look very bright at all. The pigs wouldn't be on strike at all if only this country had the proper leadership. What are we coming to, for God's sake?

I have been reading my journal from five years ago and do you know I seem to have been more intellectual and mature than I am now. Writing about Napoleon III and his social policy I was. Blimey, it's quite frightening but I've already forgotten most of my history and Napoleon III means little or nothing to me now. Is my brain rotting away?

Mum and Dad went off to see Marlene and then Mabel after tea. They say they will lend me the £120 until my national savings money arrives.

Sue is full of cold again and her nose is glowing like a furnace. Pete arrived and we watched the Academy Awards on TV.

-=-

Monday April 9, 1979

_. It poured down from dawn till dusk. Whatever became of the long, warm Spring which was forecast in the delightful EP?

Carol J paid me £10 for doing the bathroom and asked me whether I would possibly do the wall behind the door in that same, auspicious room. I leapt at the chance. It will only take me ten minutes.

Delia phoned and was most revealing. She told me she had argued with Sarah late last week at the cruel way S had sent me to Coventry for giving her that "frightful cold". She told Sarah to pull herself together and start being nice to me once again. She can be a horrid, precocious child at times. I'd love to be given the opportunity to really sort her out. In a brutal, forceful Clint Eastwood sort of way.

The general election campaign is already in full swing. A month of codswallop and blatant lies from our beloved pin-striped PM is something I can do without. Jim Callaghan really should do the honourable thing and shoot himself. It would be far better to go now than to wait until May 3 and suffer the same fate as King Charles I, Mr Hoveyda, the former Jamaican premier and poor Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who died by hanging last week simply because he was the leader of a defeated party. Margaret Hilda [Thatcher] seems to have the right idea. She says she is ignoring the campaign for a while because she doesn't want to bore the pants off Joe Electorate. Hoe right and clever of the sainted Margaret.

To bed at 1:12am.

-=-

Sunday April 8, 1979

_. Palm Sunday

Yes, Sarah was carried screaming from the party over David's shoulder at about 6am, leaving me alone with Jacq and the debris of half consumed drinks and piles of cig ends. We ate toast and drank tea due to a coffee shortage and huddled together on a large bean bag. ____________.

I crept in at home at about 9am and devoured boiled eggs and looked at the Sundays [papers]. The Countess of Snowdon is expecting a baby in the autumn. It's her first and she's 37 years old.

At 10 I went to Carol J's flat in Horsforth to hang wallpaper in her bathroom, and did so with great skill and patience until 6:30pm. I felt quite satisfied with the job afterwards. Carol was delighted, so much so that she drove me home [still in pouring rain]. Women and vehicles are a weird combination. Watched TV and ate until 10 and found myself unable to stay awake and staggered off to bed. Completely shagged out.

-=-

20170306

Saturday April 7, 1979

_. Out to the Ostlers at lunchtime with Jacq. Saw Lynne Mather but we didn't speak. Well, it has been three years. Home in pouring rain at 5:30 to prepare myself for the party at Linda's.

To the Regent at Chapel Allerton with Lynn and Dave at 8:30. Sarah, Carol J, Marilyn, Beverley W, Sue, Pete, Chippy, Dave W, &c. Had a tremendous night with most people in party mood. Lynn didn't like the crowds but an injection of pernod did the trick.

All the Regent mob returned to the house party. From the outset Dave B was in great shape. I've worried about him for a while. He seems to have really quietened since his wedding. Sarah was on top form. We danced to Donna Summer and howled with laughter at everything. Jacq was sweet too.

Have you ever sipped pomagne from a frog-shaped shampoo bottle? I have. We also did some strange things with a rubber shower attachment from the bathroom. Lynn and Dave took Sarah home and I sat with Jacq until the first bus came at 7:30am. Pissing down with rain.

-=-

Friday April 6, 1979

_. Princess Michael of Kent gave birth to a son today. I had understood that the young Windsor would be 'Master [Christian name] Windsor, but I am wrong. The child will bear the courtesy title of 'Lord' before his name even though his father is not a peer and even though the Queen's own grandson is a 'master'. A ruling by King George V fifty years ago declared that great-grandchildren of the sovereign, in the male line, would rank as children of duke of England, or words to that effect. Lord 'Fred' Windsor is 16th in line of succession to the throne.

To Da Mario's on the Headrow at lunchtime with Sarah, Carol J and Eileen. I had no real appetite but had minestrone soup and a seafood pizza. Sarah has forgiven me now for passing on my germs. _________.

Jacq phoned and enquired about the party tomorrow. I wasn't very talkative. Too hungover. I didn't want to discuss the purchasing of cocktail sausages and tins of salmon.  I left her saying I would speak tomorrow, when I hope to be functioning better.

-=-

20170303

Thursday April 5, 1979

_. To work by omnibus ~ I missed Jim because of my birthday hangover. Did minimal work and devoured a coffee and walnut cake  from fair Aunt Delia. Cards from Sarah and Eileen saying "to our favourite pain in the neck". I like it. I would like to be remembered as a favourite pain in the neck by everyone. Anything is better than blending in with the woodwork. Felt ghastly all day. At 12:30 I met Mum & Dad, Lynn and Dave at Len's Bar for drinks and sandwiches. Saran and Eileen came over for an hour but it was a very quiet affair. Dad was especially quiet because he came straight to Leeds from a colleague's funeral. Pall bearer for Albert Shaw to party-goer with Michael Rhodes. Lynn drank Pernod. Alison was the main subject of conversation once again. Lynn can be very vicious. I'm sure she's Yorkshire Light Aircraft's answer to Henry VIII.

On to Morrison's and then on to Lawn Road for drinks. Jim and Margaret came too. At 9 I joined Peter, Chippy, Dave W and Neil Addyman at the White Cross. Drank vast amounts of Pernod and lager and then went to Oakwood. Addyman was just back from skiing in Gstaad, or somewhere. Was drunk, but an uneventful night. Smoked lots of Embassy cigarettes and didn't dance with anyone. "Come on, it's your birthday!" didn't move me one bit. Home horribly late.

-=-

Sunday April 1, 1984

 4th Sunday in Lent Mothering Sunday New Moon Sunny, bright, &c. Smothering Sunday. All Fool's Day. Busy. Rob came and so too did th...