The New Year. For the past five or six years these so called New Years have always begun with people vomiting all over the place and crawling around on hands and knees moaning things like 'Oh my bloody head's gorn and blown orf' and such like. Why we do it, I fail to see.
After collapsing in the lounge after completing the washing up I sleep until 11 o'clock or something like that. Carole's gone when I eventually come round, and Dave B sits around gloating at my obvious discomfort.
A cooked breakfast only makes matters worse and by noon I'm fighting for my life, as the papers like to say when people are in fact just dying.
Dave L gave me three tickets for 'Jaws' last night, and Carole, Chris and myself are going tonight.
At 1pm John, Lynn, Dave B and I go down to the Commercial for a few drinks, but I stick to tomato juice and coca cola. Dave and Lynn are too frisky to be real, and watching them laughing and joking coupled with the fumes, grime, and the stale smell of the pub only makes me feel worse. I go for a walk round Esholt churchyard to cheer myself up. It's just amazing how many people died in Esholt in 1953. They must have been slowly bored to death by the pageant of the Coronation. It starts to rain at 1.30 and so I go back to join the others in the pub.
Drive home at 3 and it begins to snow. Arrive home all singing 'White Christmas'.
I go straight to bed and wake up at 5.30. The snow is very deep and I worry about Chris and Carole getting up the hill safely. They arrive at 7 and it takes great skill to scale our drive, which would prove a task even for Sir Edmund Hillary.
The film (Jaws) was on in Bradford and was absolutely fantastic. Not over-rated one single bit but for Carole it was too frightening and she was in tears at the end. Home after 11. Chris and Carole came in for a coffee.
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