Ash Wednesday. My half-day. Saw June on the bus going to Guiseley. She was paying a lightning visit to her sister, Mrs Hobson, on Netherfield Road. We exchanged the usual niceities, and she tells me she is going to an interview at Margaret Macmillan this afternoon - we then parted and she skipped over the zebra crossing and into oblivion. I stood and watched her as she disappeared into the midday bustle of the thriving city of Guiseley. The girl who had once governed my very thoughts had nothing better to discuss than the weather conditions and just how mild it is for February. Life is an odd thing. walk home thinking to myself just how miserable I could be if I tried. After six months I still wish we were together. But I'm saying no more on the subject of females.
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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 February 1, 1986
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ A day of industry. Ally made a corned beef hash and floated chunks of pickled beetroot on her plate. A real ...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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Moorhouse Inn New Moon It was an early rise because of our darling son and heir, who had no qualms about getting his drunken Papa out of be...
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