Thursday January 11, 1979

The papers and TV (yes, the media) are over-doing it a bit on the subject of the Prime Minister's Caribbean summit on the island of Guadeloupe. The nation may well be in a state of chaos & turmoil, but I fear the presence of James Callaghan in this current crisis can only make matters worse. Besides, one cannot expect the Presidents of France and the United States and the chancellor of West Germany to discuss world affairs in Barrow-in-Furness, can one? Some murky Berni Inn in the north of England may be fine for the likes of little Audrey Callaghan, but Madame Giscard D'Estaing is a different kettle of fish. She's descended from Louis XIV of France, you know.

The journals of Richard Crossman are proving a bore. He was a typical trumped up Socialist intellectual with baggy pin-striped trousers and a Georgian mansion in Suffolk. To be a Labour cabinet minister you have to something of a hypocrite, don't you?

Mr Dave Glynn phoned tonight.  He's coming to Leeds tomorrow and I plan to meet him at 5:15. Such a genuine person and very likeable. Lynn and Sue adore him. He brings out the clown in Susan and the flirt in Lynn, and in Lynn's case this is quite an easy thing to achieve.

Stay by my fireside all evening. Jim and Margaret came here at 9 and we watched TV and consumed lager and chunks of port pie. These meetings never differ from week to week.

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