Wake up at nearly 5am. The sun is rising over the Chevin, and the whole room is filled with a beautious glow. Don't feel well, and fall back into a deep, deep sleep. Lynn wakes John and I at 11 when Andy pays a call on us both. He looks really ill. Hear that poor Linda collapsed while speaking to her parents on the phone, and it seems she was the first to go down with it, Sunday night being the start of the plague. After the half hour visit Andy leaves with: "are you going out for a drink tonight?" I almost go hysterical. Lay drowsily listening to the radio until 5. Force down some steak, but do not enjoy it. My apetite is still unaccounted for.
Sit in the armchair till just before 10 then go to bed. Oh, I nearly forgot. Judy rang at 9 and before I could say anything she told me she'd been ill since yesterday with chronic sickness, wobbly knees, etc. Aaaarrgghhh...it's spreading like the plague....
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
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Saturday August 31, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Hilda: blue. Wet day. The marriage of Diane Gadsby and Paul Anthony Edwards at Pudsey St Lawrence. Ally went off at 8:30am to...

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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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