Thursday July 29, 1976

Another session with good old Hough, my dentist. The waiting is the worst part about visits to the tooth repair man, because sitting in the chair with your head back is quite a mild experience to say the least. I have always posed the question 'Why do dentists always have bad breath?' But with the wisdom of my 21 years I have drawn the conclusion that everybody must have bad breath, but it's not that everyone gets as close to your face as the good old denist is it? Am I correct? Why am I asking you questions? I'm never going to get an audible answer out of you.

Out with Lynne to the Red Lion and then the Black Bull in Otley. She really is a career girl and thinks a lot about her job. I admire her for it but don't share in the delight of the thought of sitting about behind a desk from 9 until 5.

Back to the Mather residence (Ty Gwyn) where we look at photographs. Peter comes in alone and I have the suspicion that Carole and Denise are outside in the car with Chris and would have come in if it hadn't been for my presence. Peter enquires: "Aren't you coming with us, Michael?" and when I shrug and say "coming where?" he says "to the Canary Islands with me and Chris, of course". Yeah right. I'm going to say yes just like that when I've never been consulted about the destination, time, month, cost, &c. The two of them have had this coming holiday planned all year. Devious buggers.

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