The noisy bloody workmen are making life unbearable. However, I'm not going to dwell upon it and I'll turn to the joys of Spring instead.
I despatched a letter to Christine at lunchtime, and the only conclusion that I can draw is that it must be love. Christopher Ratcliffe will have to go. I can't help smiling at the printed heading on the diary page for Christine's birthday - March 16 - PASSION SUNDAY! Rather appropriate really. Let us hope that the day lives up to its name.
My financial situation isn't all that good on my arrival home and I decide to stay in. However, John is close at hand with his wallet and I end up propping up the juke box in the Hare & Hounds as though I do it every day (er, you do). Quite an uneventful evening really & come home with my chauffeur at kicking out time.
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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 7, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Ally was in a collapsed state all day and did her 'Sleeping Beauty' routine on me. Poor Samuel was motherless. A happ...

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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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