Back to the old routine. Up at about 7.30 and sit with Lynn over a cup of tea. Mummy didn't wish to emerge for the morning ritual of pretending to enjoy ones cornflakes and shrivelled bit of toast.
With Jim Rawnsley to Leeds. Eileen arrives at 8.30 with an engagement ring firmly secured to her finger. She gives me a cock and bull story about not really being engaged until July, but I fail to grasp the point. After all, what is the reasoning behind getting engaged to get engaged? Bloody nonsense it all is.
Go into town at lunchtime and get a card for Helen's celebratory event tomorrow. Twenty-one the poor soul is. She was so bloody pissed on Saturday I doubt very much whether she'll be recovered as yet.
Praise be to God!! Chris had official confirmation of our holiday on Saturday! It is quite sealed after all. I harboured doubts in the back of my mind that something would go wrong along the way, but feel quite satisfied now.
Haven't heard from Christine since the traumatic experience she undoubtedly went through on Saturday night. I wonder what reaction she'll give me? Her excuse the other night was that she was too drunk and too shocked to take any of it in.
Ring Marita and say I'm sending her a massive memoranda about all the references I've ever made about her in my diary since 1973. She's on the verge of hysteria at the end of the conversation. What a girl she is!
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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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Tuesday March 12, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Sunshine. Dad went to Horton to meet a carpet cleaner and telephone engineer. It was a pleasant surprise when Mum appeared in...
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Moorhouse Inn I expect a visit from Colin Black any day now and I prowl around trying to look useful which can be very time consuming and h...
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Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Sat eating porridge at 7:30am I switched on the radio to hear the news that the Princess of Wales is at the Lindo Wing...
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