Mummy is baffled about the whereabouts of her patron saint, Hilda the Fat, of Pudsey. However, all will be well. The saintly lady celebrates a birthday tomorrow and 'Mam' (as mothers are so graciously termed in the death notices in the EP) has despatched a card to the saintly abode. No doubt this act of peace will inspire St Hilda to respond to our ever louder plea: "Where are you love?"
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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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Wednesday October 9, 1985
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Slept until 8:30 when the Schweppes delivery man woke us. Much chaos. To market after a frugal breakfast. Ally explain...

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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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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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