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Tuesday January 3, 1978

_.Circumcision (transference) Bank Holiday (Scotland)
Today is Circumcision Day. Not for me though.
Jacqui knocked on my bedroom door at about 6:45am and I lay shuddering listening to the racket being made outside. Thunder, hail, snow and gales - all on Hawksworth Lane. We ate and drank nothing and went out to face the elements. I saw her safely to the London coach and she left just after 8:30.

I had a change of attitude towards work today and put it down to the fact that I have every intention of leaving. Even now, the personnel manager at YTV may be wording a begging letter to the compiler of these simple diaries. Who knows?

Jack Jones: Blenheim Palace?
Spent the day sorting out the New Year's Honours List. Just five revolting peerages, numerous BEMs to hundreds of thousands of canteen ladies throughout the vast Commonwealth. Jack Jones, the left-wing, militant, communist trade union leader becomes Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports, a Field Marshal and a Knight Grand Cross of the Order of the Crown of India. I'm surprised they haven't given Jones Blenheim Palace as a reward for his services to the nation.

I attempted to buy a volume for my 1978 journal today but failed miserably. I couldn't find one to match this anywhere. Do I foresee the end of this partnership? Just look at what we've been through together since January, 1973. Five, hard industrious years. Oh yes we have laughed a lot, but we have wept together too. No, I cannot allow it to end like this. On pay day (January 5) I'll buy a diary whether it resembles this WH Smith's one or not.

Retired to bed at 12:30am with nothing to read. Tomorrow I will go to the library. Perhaps a bit of Dumas again. Aaarrghh.

-=-

Monday January 2, 1978

_.Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Mum & Dad's birthday. They come round so quick these days. We bought them more Royal Albert (china). Yes, a coffee pot this time. Mum intends having a special cabinet erected in some prominent position in which to display her china collection. A dinner service is next on the list.

Birch Tree at Wilsill.
A warm, almost Spring-like day. With gusto we all went (Mum, Dad, Jacqui, me, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete and Chris Baker) to the Birch Tree Inn at Wilsill for a nosh and a slight booze. Mr & Mrs Baker were supposed to join us but Dave accidentally sent them off on a wild goose chase around North Yorkshire. Those of us who did manage to find the place did have a good time.

Tonight Jacqui and I went out with Sue and Peter to the Commercial. To be honest I'm bored to death of booze, but one must keep up appearances. From the pub we went on a tour of picturesque Yorkshire Chinese take-aways, where we bought curry, chips, &c. The greed was on a phenomenal scale.


-=-

Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...