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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Saturday September 14, 1985
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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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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