Sunday after Ascension
_. Sue, Peter, Chippy and Debbie, Flu and Sharon left for Whitby at 7am. Dave W and I followed at a more respectable 9am. Warm and sunny. We arrived at about noon. We met Chippy, sticking out like a sore thumb, silhouetted against the backdrop of a dilapidated chip shop. Soon we were all in the Buck Inn, a pleasant tavern within spitting distance of the smelly, polluted harbour. We drank there until 2pm and then swept the town like locusts clearing it of seafood and sweet confectionery. Chippy and Flu sat at the end of the pier with every intention of catching fish, but made no progress and caught nothing.
Dave and I went with the ladies and played Bingo, and other lower mentality amusements. We observed the scavenging activities of a large gull, with loose bowels. The creature amused us greatly by dive-bombing innocent old ladies from a suitable vantage point on the roof of the Halifax Building Society.
By 6:30 large queues were forming outside all the public houses for the magic moment of 7pm. We all snuggled back in the Buck Inn and supped until about 9:30 when Dave and I left for home.
Hilda and Tony were with Mum & Dad.
-=-
20180420
Saturday May 26, 1979
_. John, Maria, and a foul-mouthed JPH arrived from Lochans last night.________. Little JPH swears like some enfeebled NUPE member. Mother doesn't tolerate dirty, four letter expletives at her tea table. I blame the poor child's Celtic upbringing.
Out tonight with Sue & Pete to the Shoulder. Joined by Dave Wainwright, Chippy, Debbie, Shaun, John (back from Israel with 3ft long hair), &c. A pleasant night. Debbie is a sexy little proposition if ever I saw one. Quite lovely.
On to the White Horse at Burley-in-W, now vacated by mother's cousin, Dorothy Ratcliffe. The new landlord is a grotesque, fat, walrus-like character, with tattoos. The flab of his stomach hung over the bar. I explained to him, over my pint, that Dorothy and I are cousins, and he responded with a semi negative gesture whilst extinguishing a cigarette.
Home at 12. I'm going to Whitby tomorrow with Dave W.
-=-
Out tonight with Sue & Pete to the Shoulder. Joined by Dave Wainwright, Chippy, Debbie, Shaun, John (back from Israel with 3ft long hair), &c. A pleasant night. Debbie is a sexy little proposition if ever I saw one. Quite lovely.
On to the White Horse at Burley-in-W, now vacated by mother's cousin, Dorothy Ratcliffe. The new landlord is a grotesque, fat, walrus-like character, with tattoos. The flab of his stomach hung over the bar. I explained to him, over my pint, that Dorothy and I are cousins, and he responded with a semi negative gesture whilst extinguishing a cigarette.
Home at 12. I'm going to Whitby tomorrow with Dave W.
-=-
Friday May 25, 1979
_. An unbelievably traumatic day. Firstly, Lynn's pregnancy was confirmed by her doctor, but within minutes of learning this wonderful news I received a call from Christine ------- yes, from Christine Braithwaite -- who told me she is going to marry Frank, her latest boyfriend, and that the quiet register office wedding will occur within the next three or four months. Naturally, I was dumbfounded, horror struck and aghast. The rug was pulled from beneath my feet. Christine has featured near the top of my short-list for some considerable time and the news that she is to become espoused to this lanky character from Hawksworth is shattering to say the least. For the remainder of the afternoon I was in no fit state to do much other feel very sorry for myself, much to the amusement of Sarah & Eileen. Christine must have switched jobs because she gave me a new phone number, but in the chaos and shock, I seem to have mislaid it.
Out tonight with Sue & Peter to the Shoulder. Met Chippy and Debbie. Chris Ratcliffe, Peter M and Martyn were there gloating over CB's forthcoming wedding announcement. I suppose I shouldn't have told them. Oh, what a mess.
-=-
Out tonight with Sue & Peter to the Shoulder. Met Chippy and Debbie. Chris Ratcliffe, Peter M and Martyn were there gloating over CB's forthcoming wedding announcement. I suppose I shouldn't have told them. Oh, what a mess.
-=-
Thursday May 24, 1979
Ascension Day.
Her Majesty Queen Victoria, Mrs John Brown, was brought into the world 160 years ago today.
Met Jacq at Len's Bar at 1pm for our ritual weekly meeting. She gave me 75p to pass on to Motherdear as an instalment for something she's buying from her catalogue. Jacq wasn't very cheerful ____________.
I remained at home this evening. Lana Turner was on the telly.
-=-
Her Majesty Queen Victoria, Mrs John Brown, was brought into the world 160 years ago today.
Met Jacq at Len's Bar at 1pm for our ritual weekly meeting. She gave me 75p to pass on to Motherdear as an instalment for something she's buying from her catalogue. Jacq wasn't very cheerful ____________.
I remained at home this evening. Lana Turner was on the telly.
-=-
Wednesday May 23, 1979
__. A batch of photographs that I took last November arrived from Gratispool's today.We have all aged quite considerably since they were taken. I, for one, resemble a giant gollywog. Peter N has grown a beard since they were taken, and with a face like his I think facial hair covering it up only improves matters.
John phoned. Our Scotland trip is off because Maria wants to come here to see some of her mother's American friends who are visiting Ridgeway. ___________.
To bed with Richard III at 10:25. He's met his match at Bosworth Field.
-=-
John phoned. Our Scotland trip is off because Maria wants to come here to see some of her mother's American friends who are visiting Ridgeway. ___________.
To bed with Richard III at 10:25. He's met his match at Bosworth Field.
-=-
Tuesday May 22, 1979
__. The Queen Victoria - John Brown debate continues here. Sadly, dearest Mama believes everything she reads in the newspapers and so is now convinced that the old Queen made a honest man of her amiable ghillie. Buckingham Palace says the very idea is out of the question, and 'no documentary evidence exists'. I cannot see Queen Victoria contemplating such a thing. She had an aversion to widows re-marrying, and discouraged it amongst her ladies in waiting.
Watched a TV programme about twins and then had a stomach full of the Canadian general election which takes place today. Trudeau may get kicked out of office and thereby see his ubiquitous wife, Margaret, disappear from the gossip columns. That woman is close to the top of my list of nauseating ladies. Others include Pat Arrowsmith, Faith Brown, Vanessa Redgrave, Shirley Williams MP, and the mother of the Ayatollah Khomeini, whoever she is.
John should have phoned, but didn't and so we are none the wiser about the coming weekend activities.
To bed with King Richard III at 11:52pm.
-=-
Watched a TV programme about twins and then had a stomach full of the Canadian general election which takes place today. Trudeau may get kicked out of office and thereby see his ubiquitous wife, Margaret, disappear from the gossip columns. That woman is close to the top of my list of nauseating ladies. Others include Pat Arrowsmith, Faith Brown, Vanessa Redgrave, Shirley Williams MP, and the mother of the Ayatollah Khomeini, whoever she is.
John should have phoned, but didn't and so we are none the wiser about the coming weekend activities.
To bed with King Richard III at 11:52pm.
-=-
20180418
Monday May 21, 1979
_. Read in the Daily Telegraph that a certain Michael MacDonald is alleging, in a new book, that Queen Victoria married her Highland servant, John Brown, and bore him a son who lived to the age of 90, and was a frequent visitor to Balmoral. All very doubtful. Where is the proof? The Queen and Brown were undoubtedly close which gave rise to speculation, but this is where it stops.
Back to reading Richard III. John phoned, but only briefly, and so too did Dave G.
Bed at 11:30.
-=-
Back to reading Richard III. John phoned, but only briefly, and so too did Dave G.
Bed at 11:30.
-=-
Sunday May 20, 1979
Rogation Sunday.
_. {deletion} The birds were creating one hell of a racket in the soggy Hampshire trees this morning. We ate toast and helped Mrs Dixon prepare the lunch before heading down to the Plough Inn for the last couple of hours. Mrs D gave us £10 to get a round of drinks at the pub. Isn't she amazing?
Ally (bless her) is becoming incredibly attractive to me, and by that I do not imply that she is attracted to me. Quite the contrary. I am sure she regards me with some affection, but I think she finds me hideously stupid and something of a joke. I am sure she isn't turned on in any way, shape or form. It is something I will have to work on.
Graham thinks I'm a reprobate, which is rich coming from him, because he's the most debauched chap alive.
At 3pm we had a massive lunch in a room I've never laid eyes on before, then bade our farewells and left in search of a garage in order to repair Peter's ailing car. Something called a regulator had disintegrated. We sat for ages whilst a mechanic did £21 worth of work, and this held us up until almost 7pm. Lynn and Dave were of course with us in Peter's car for the journey home because Ally is now the proud owner of his Triumph Spitfire. Dave will miss his play thing.
Pleasant journey home. In for 11:30-12. Hilda and Tony were having supper with Mum and Dad, telling tales of their recent holiday in Holland.
-=-
_. {deletion} The birds were creating one hell of a racket in the soggy Hampshire trees this morning. We ate toast and helped Mrs Dixon prepare the lunch before heading down to the Plough Inn for the last couple of hours. Mrs D gave us £10 to get a round of drinks at the pub. Isn't she amazing?
Ally (bless her) is becoming incredibly attractive to me, and by that I do not imply that she is attracted to me. Quite the contrary. I am sure she regards me with some affection, but I think she finds me hideously stupid and something of a joke. I am sure she isn't turned on in any way, shape or form. It is something I will have to work on.
Graham thinks I'm a reprobate, which is rich coming from him, because he's the most debauched chap alive.
At 3pm we had a massive lunch in a room I've never laid eyes on before, then bade our farewells and left in search of a garage in order to repair Peter's ailing car. Something called a regulator had disintegrated. We sat for ages whilst a mechanic did £21 worth of work, and this held us up until almost 7pm. Lynn and Dave were of course with us in Peter's car for the journey home because Ally is now the proud owner of his Triumph Spitfire. Dave will miss his play thing.
Pleasant journey home. In for 11:30-12. Hilda and Tony were having supper with Mum and Dad, telling tales of their recent holiday in Holland.
-=-
20180417
Saturday May 19, 1979
_. Graham woke us first at about 9am. He was one his way to a piss-up at Heathrow Airport. Pete & I stayed in bed until about 11. We lads are in Graham's room which resembles a hospital ward with beds lined across the room. David isn't feeling at all well and he stayed in his bed until about 1 o'clock.
We went down to the Plough Inn at Itchen Abbas, and onto another pub at Ovington (the Bush?) David joined us at the second pub, in the garden, where we had ploughman's lunches and drank iced Pernod. We joked about Lynn's pregnancy and the baby has already been christened 'Hylda Baker'.
At 2:30 we went into Winchester to buy a bottle of Pernod for tonight's party. Alison and I walked huddled together like doves much to the amusement of Lynn who views our new found friendship with scepticism.
Back to Alison's where we sprawled on the lawn. Out at 7:30 to the party which was held at the home of her boss, Graham Smith, and partner Charlotte, in Winchester. On arrival we found Charlotte reclining on a sofa, cat on knee, allowing the feline to drink the contents of her wine glass. A foul display.
Most of the guests seemed to be considerably older than us. Even geriatric in some cases. Ate and drank to bursting point. Lynn was the life and soul of the evening. We left at about 4am for Alison's. She was furious about the evening._______. At Chillandham Cross we couldn't get in the house. We fell about in the garden quite hopelessly. Inside, we listened to records, drank tomato soup, and a bottle of gin in the space of 45 minutes.
-=-
We went down to the Plough Inn at Itchen Abbas, and onto another pub at Ovington (the Bush?) David joined us at the second pub, in the garden, where we had ploughman's lunches and drank iced Pernod. We joked about Lynn's pregnancy and the baby has already been christened 'Hylda Baker'.
At 2:30 we went into Winchester to buy a bottle of Pernod for tonight's party. Alison and I walked huddled together like doves much to the amusement of Lynn who views our new found friendship with scepticism.
Back to Alison's where we sprawled on the lawn. Out at 7:30 to the party which was held at the home of her boss, Graham Smith, and partner Charlotte, in Winchester. On arrival we found Charlotte reclining on a sofa, cat on knee, allowing the feline to drink the contents of her wine glass. A foul display.
Most of the guests seemed to be considerably older than us. Even geriatric in some cases. Ate and drank to bursting point. Lynn was the life and soul of the evening. We left at about 4am for Alison's. She was furious about the evening._______. At Chillandham Cross we couldn't get in the house. We fell about in the garden quite hopelessly. Inside, we listened to records, drank tomato soup, and a bottle of gin in the space of 45 minutes.
-=-
Friday May 18, 1979
_. Heavy rain. Took a half-day. Met Jacq at 12 and went to the Ostler's for a few drinks, sharing her gaily coloured umbrella. She can read me like a book, and says I only want a girl with whom to go out and get totally pissed with.
On to the HMV record shop where I bought a Three Degrees LP for Ally. Then to Len's Bar until 3. Felt quite pissed afterwards. Jacq drove me home in her wreck of a car and stayed to tea.
At 5:30 after chucking a few things into a bag I set off with Sue and Peter to Ally's in Winchester. Had a terrific hangover en route and felt quite ghastly. We broke the journey at a pub called 'Crossroads' down near Northampton. Arrived at Martyr Worthy at 11:30. It was a delight to see Ally again. She gave me headache pills, and then played the Three Degrees album. Lynn & David arrived at midnight and after a period of nudging, giggles and whispers they announced that Lynn is probably expecting a baby in January. Had a few dinks. We were all entertained by Graham Dixon's endless chatter. Bed by 2am --ish.
-=-
On to the HMV record shop where I bought a Three Degrees LP for Ally. Then to Len's Bar until 3. Felt quite pissed afterwards. Jacq drove me home in her wreck of a car and stayed to tea.
At 5:30 after chucking a few things into a bag I set off with Sue and Peter to Ally's in Winchester. Had a terrific hangover en route and felt quite ghastly. We broke the journey at a pub called 'Crossroads' down near Northampton. Arrived at Martyr Worthy at 11:30. It was a delight to see Ally again. She gave me headache pills, and then played the Three Degrees album. Lynn & David arrived at midnight and after a period of nudging, giggles and whispers they announced that Lynn is probably expecting a baby in January. Had a few dinks. We were all entertained by Graham Dixon's endless chatter. Bed by 2am --ish.
-=-
Thursday May 17, 1979
_. I vowed to Dave Wainwright that the next time he saw me at Oakwood Hall I would be accompanied by something called a 'girlfriend' ~ and I meant every word of my vow.
Jim and Margaret came at 9, with Julie. Watched a Rock Hudson film on BBC2. To bed with Richard III.
-=-
Jim and Margaret came at 9, with Julie. Watched a Rock Hudson film on BBC2. To bed with Richard III.
-=-
Wednesday May 16, 1979
_. John Wayne, the great American actor, and something of an institution, is dying. He probably won't see the end of the month. Our friends in America, it seems, are becoming quite hysterical at the thought of Mr Wayne's coming departure to that great big cattle ranch in the sky. A growing dread is seizing everyone. I do find his films very likeable, and his roles are always endearing but he is no Laurence Olivier, is he? Just imagine John Wayne playing Richard III or that nice gentleman in 'Pride and Prejudice' - Mr Darcy.
Goodnight. To bed with Richard III.
-=-
Goodnight. To bed with Richard III.
-=-
Tuesday May 15, 1979
_. Had a headache this afternoon. A rarity for me. I am reminded of when I was an small child because on reflection my young boyhood was one of throbbing pain in the head. In fact, I was a sickly, little individual.
It was the State Opening of Parliament this morning. The Queen looks odd wearing spectacles and the Imperial State Crown. One would think HM might lay hands on contact lenses. As to the contents of the speech, I completely agree with Margaret's package. The budget is set for June 12, and the tax cuts will be revealed on that date. I am so happy about everything. The Labour party is now in chaos and disarray. Callaghan may still be the party leader, but for how long? Already we have Wedgwood Benn baying from the Left and to be honest I do hope he succeeds in his ambition to take the party leadership because who, at the next election, could cast a vote for Labour with the knowledge that Tony Benn could be put into No. 10? He has set Labours chances back 20 years.
Dave G phoned. He cannot make it to Alison's 21st at the weekend. To bed with Richard III. Fuming that the BBC didn't show a re-run of the state opening in full in the evening, for the benefit of the masses at work. The pageant was of course televised live, but who could possibly be at home to watch other than a few under fives and the men on social security?
-=-
It was the State Opening of Parliament this morning. The Queen looks odd wearing spectacles and the Imperial State Crown. One would think HM might lay hands on contact lenses. As to the contents of the speech, I completely agree with Margaret's package. The budget is set for June 12, and the tax cuts will be revealed on that date. I am so happy about everything. The Labour party is now in chaos and disarray. Callaghan may still be the party leader, but for how long? Already we have Wedgwood Benn baying from the Left and to be honest I do hope he succeeds in his ambition to take the party leadership because who, at the next election, could cast a vote for Labour with the knowledge that Tony Benn could be put into No. 10? He has set Labours chances back 20 years.
Dave G phoned. He cannot make it to Alison's 21st at the weekend. To bed with Richard III. Fuming that the BBC didn't show a re-run of the state opening in full in the evening, for the benefit of the masses at work. The pageant was of course televised live, but who could possibly be at home to watch other than a few under fives and the men on social security?
-=-
Monday May 14, 1979
_. At 1pm I met Jacq and handed over a blouse that she'd purchased from mum's catalogue. She has just returned from Salou with Cheryl. "It's like Ibiza" she said. "Nowehere can possibly be like Ibiza" quoth I.
I am sure that when I have an entry in 'Who's Who' the section stating recreations will simply say 'Ibiza'.
Queen Silvia of Sweden gave birth to a son yesterday but the poor boy will never be king due to an alteration to the Swedish constitution which has made his 2 year-old sister, Victoria, the crown princess. The idea of the first born inheriting the crown will play havoc with the dynasty, and feel sure it is a big mistake. King Carl Gustav can hardly agree with this new fangled idea because he has four older sisters. The eldest, Princess Margaretha, is married to a Bradford chap, John Ambler.
Home at 5. Went down the lane wearing leather gloves and carrying a large plastic bucket. For what, you ask? Well, I gathered a load of fresh nettle heads and set about making a gallon of nettle wine. The house stank of rotting vegetation, and the pan was stained by the heavy green sludge. I am sure the finished wine will be exquisite.
Whilst devouring our dinner something quite dreadful occurred. Papa discovered the remains of a boiled centipede in his cauliflower cheese. The discovery of this apparently insignificant myriapod caused nausea and panic to reign. The four of us clamoured for the door, leaving the half eaten dinner on the table top, and of course the corpse of our dear friend, Clarence.
-=-
I am sure that when I have an entry in 'Who's Who' the section stating recreations will simply say 'Ibiza'.
Queen Silvia of Sweden gave birth to a son yesterday but the poor boy will never be king due to an alteration to the Swedish constitution which has made his 2 year-old sister, Victoria, the crown princess. The idea of the first born inheriting the crown will play havoc with the dynasty, and feel sure it is a big mistake. King Carl Gustav can hardly agree with this new fangled idea because he has four older sisters. The eldest, Princess Margaretha, is married to a Bradford chap, John Ambler.
Home at 5. Went down the lane wearing leather gloves and carrying a large plastic bucket. For what, you ask? Well, I gathered a load of fresh nettle heads and set about making a gallon of nettle wine. The house stank of rotting vegetation, and the pan was stained by the heavy green sludge. I am sure the finished wine will be exquisite.
Whilst devouring our dinner something quite dreadful occurred. Papa discovered the remains of a boiled centipede in his cauliflower cheese. The discovery of this apparently insignificant myriapod caused nausea and panic to reign. The four of us clamoured for the door, leaving the half eaten dinner on the table top, and of course the corpse of our dear friend, Clarence.
-=-
Sunday May 13, 1979
_. 4th Sunday after Easter.
Sat in a deckchair in the garden reading 'Richard III' swinging my ancient knees. I cut the lawns, which took me just over an hour. Tortuous endurance. It was about six inches long .... the grass that is.
Mum baked herself all day in the sun and by tea time she resembled something of a mix between a lobster and the Rev Ian Paisley.
Sue and Pete were out all day no doubt copulating in some remote Yorkshire dale, or boosting the profits of some local ale-house.
Relieved that I'm not living in England in the 1480s. The horror of Reginald Reginald Bosanquet reading 'News at 10' and Esther Rantzen's ugly mush pale into insignificance when one thinks of the life and times Edward V endured.
-=-
Sat in a deckchair in the garden reading 'Richard III' swinging my ancient knees. I cut the lawns, which took me just over an hour. Tortuous endurance. It was about six inches long .... the grass that is.
Mum baked herself all day in the sun and by tea time she resembled something of a mix between a lobster and the Rev Ian Paisley.
Sue and Pete were out all day no doubt copulating in some remote Yorkshire dale, or boosting the profits of some local ale-house.
Relieved that I'm not living in England in the 1480s. The horror of Reginald Reginald Bosanquet reading 'News at 10' and Esther Rantzen's ugly mush pale into insignificance when one thinks of the life and times Edward V endured.
-=-
Saturday May 12, 1979
_. At noon I went into Bradford and paid Michelle £650 for four holidays to sunny Ibiza. Took cheques with me because the cash would have been far too tempting. I could easily have ended up with a second hand Datsun and three Chinese prostitutes, which I might have regretted later. The girls in WH Smith's Travel are sweet and they giggle and titter like fifth formers. They say Denise is in the Greek islands on business. Home at 2pm.
Watched Arsenal beat Manchester United in the FA Cup final (3-2) at which the Prince of Wales put in an appearance. Countess Desiree Rosenborg, a cousin of the Queen of Denmark, is now rumoured to be the 'ideal' match for HRH. whether Charles has ever met his Danish kinswoman I don't suppose matters to the gentlemen of the Press.
Read 'Richard III' and watched a 1930s Erroll Flynn epic 'Captain Blood'. Is it true what they say about Erroll Flynn?
-=-
Watched Arsenal beat Manchester United in the FA Cup final (3-2) at which the Prince of Wales put in an appearance. Countess Desiree Rosenborg, a cousin of the Queen of Denmark, is now rumoured to be the 'ideal' match for HRH. whether Charles has ever met his Danish kinswoman I don't suppose matters to the gentlemen of the Press.
Read 'Richard III' and watched a 1930s Erroll Flynn epic 'Captain Blood'. Is it true what they say about Erroll Flynn?
-=-
Friday May 11, 1979
_. Mum phoned me at the office to say my national savings certificates arrived this morning and at 12:45 she and Dad brought them to Leeds so that I can cash them. That's £120 towards Ibiza '79.
Spent some time in the library and took out a couple of sizeable volumes. "Richard III" by Paul Murray Kendall and "Bloody Mary" by Carolly Erickson, a biography of Mary I.
Later I started on Richard III which is a very interesting account. He wasn't the crippled monster one imagines. Bloody Shakespeare should have thrown all his considerable energies into bricklaying or dabbling in watercolours because his historical plays have maligned more innocent characters and distorted history on a massive scale. Especially Plantagenet history, which was so blackened in the Tudor era, and this has stuck down the centuries.
-=-
Spent some time in the library and took out a couple of sizeable volumes. "Richard III" by Paul Murray Kendall and "Bloody Mary" by Carolly Erickson, a biography of Mary I.
Later I started on Richard III which is a very interesting account. He wasn't the crippled monster one imagines. Bloody Shakespeare should have thrown all his considerable energies into bricklaying or dabbling in watercolours because his historical plays have maligned more innocent characters and distorted history on a massive scale. Especially Plantagenet history, which was so blackened in the Tudor era, and this has stuck down the centuries.
-=-
Thursday May 10, 1979
_. Cold day. Wet too. The soggy daffodils are retreating at speed back into their bulbs. Old Wordsworth would have beheld a 'host of running, wet daffodils'.
Susan seems much improved. She tells me that staying at home with mother all day long is driving her crazy. Mother is quite insane. Edgar Allen Poe would have found material for a dark, gripping tale after spending a morning in the company of Nora Rhodes at Pine Tops.
Mrs Thatcher has been prime minister for a whole week. Lord Soames is the new Lord President of the Council, but who is the government chief whip?
To the dentist at 5pm (Rawdon) and find myself with a new dentist. What has become of old Hough? The young, moustachioed guy prodded around in my cavities and cleaned my crumbling teeth and charged me £2 for five minutes work. That's me until November. Left in pouring rain at 5:10 for home.
Jim, Margaret and Julie came at 9. Retired at 11:30.
-=-
Susan seems much improved. She tells me that staying at home with mother all day long is driving her crazy. Mother is quite insane. Edgar Allen Poe would have found material for a dark, gripping tale after spending a morning in the company of Nora Rhodes at Pine Tops.
Mrs Thatcher has been prime minister for a whole week. Lord Soames is the new Lord President of the Council, but who is the government chief whip?
To the dentist at 5pm (Rawdon) and find myself with a new dentist. What has become of old Hough? The young, moustachioed guy prodded around in my cavities and cleaned my crumbling teeth and charged me £2 for five minutes work. That's me until November. Left in pouring rain at 5:10 for home.
Jim, Margaret and Julie came at 9. Retired at 11:30.
-=-
Wednesday May 9, 1979
_. I am putting on weight in the wrong places. The very thought of spending the rest of my life in rotund misery is much more frightening than the prospect of the coming holocaust due to the failure of Cyrus Vance's SALT2 agreement. For a one-time slim-line Adonis it's harrowing watching the numbers on the bathroom scales moving up and up. So, the fight back begins today. I am cutting down on my lunches and my beer intake is to be reduced drastically. I want to be on top form for Ibiza in eight weeks time.
It was a warm and sunny day. Mum and Susan sat in the garden. At the YP I spent the day, again, adjusting the files with the new government appointments. Cabinet ministers were sworn in at the palace yesterday afternoon.
At 2pm I went over to the library in town, but after an hour came back unable to make a decision on which books to choose. Glanced at "The Lives of the Queens of England", an ancient tome, but decided against it. It's probably a volume of historic poofs down the ages. Oh, and on the subject of our gay friends, the trial of Jeremy Thorpe has started at the Old Bailey. My great fear is that old Mr Justice Cantley will not survive long enough to send the disgraced former MP to the gallows. (Well, why not? They hanged Mr Bhutto.)
I have it on good authority from a man on the YP that Marion Thorpe is a lesbian, and that the object of her obsession is none other than FW ______. If this is so I can see why Mrs Thorpe has behaved with an almost light hearted indifference through the period of Jeremy's humiliation and disgrace.
Poor Uncle Tony (Gadsby) failed in his quest to become a Liberal councillor - by about 150 votes. Poor man. He worked so hard too.
Mum and Dad went to dinner at Lynn & Dave's. I watched TV with Sue & Pete. Bed at 12:15am.
-=-
It was a warm and sunny day. Mum and Susan sat in the garden. At the YP I spent the day, again, adjusting the files with the new government appointments. Cabinet ministers were sworn in at the palace yesterday afternoon.
At 2pm I went over to the library in town, but after an hour came back unable to make a decision on which books to choose. Glanced at "The Lives of the Queens of England", an ancient tome, but decided against it. It's probably a volume of historic poofs down the ages. Oh, and on the subject of our gay friends, the trial of Jeremy Thorpe has started at the Old Bailey. My great fear is that old Mr Justice Cantley will not survive long enough to send the disgraced former MP to the gallows. (Well, why not? They hanged Mr Bhutto.)
I have it on good authority from a man on the YP that Marion Thorpe is a lesbian, and that the object of her obsession is none other than FW ______. If this is so I can see why Mrs Thorpe has behaved with an almost light hearted indifference through the period of Jeremy's humiliation and disgrace.
Poor Uncle Tony (Gadsby) failed in his quest to become a Liberal councillor - by about 150 votes. Poor man. He worked so hard too.
Mum and Dad went to dinner at Lynn & Dave's. I watched TV with Sue & Pete. Bed at 12:15am.
-=-
20180416
Tuesday May 8, 1979
_. The alarm clock sounded off at 7am. Made cups of tea for David G and he devoured those revolting Kellogg's Cornnflakes which make one hell of a noise for sensitive young ears first thing on a morning.
Looked at the Daily Mail before taking the 8 o'clock bus to Leeds. Spent the day pouring over the election news, and the movers. The only government appointment that I find surprising is that Lord Carrington has gone to the Foreign Office. Recent foreign secretaries have come from the Commons. Most of the other appointments seem to be drawn from Mrs Thatcher's opposition front bench team.
The leader of the Tories on Leeds City Council has been given a position as a junior minister with a seat in the House of Lords. Irwin Bellow is a friend of Jim Rawnsley. Just think - I have travelled in a car with a man who has danced with the wife of the man who has spoken to Margaret Thatcher on the telephone!
Worked all day without a break. Sarah brought some sandwiches in for me, but otherwise I didn't leave my hot, sweltering typewriter. The Labour party has been shredded. Yippee. I suppose it means the gallows for Jim Callaghan, and by Christmas we'll have Wedgwood Benn at the helm. It is such a relief that we now have a civilised government until at least 1984.
Susan saw a doctor at Yeadon this evening. He says she has some kind of fish poisoning, probably from the seafood salad she had at Salvo's.
Ally came back from her interview to see Mama and seemed quite hopeful of the position. She stayed to lunch before bombing off to Martyr Worthy.
I retired at 12:23am.
-=-
Looked at the Daily Mail before taking the 8 o'clock bus to Leeds. Spent the day pouring over the election news, and the movers. The only government appointment that I find surprising is that Lord Carrington has gone to the Foreign Office. Recent foreign secretaries have come from the Commons. Most of the other appointments seem to be drawn from Mrs Thatcher's opposition front bench team.
The leader of the Tories on Leeds City Council has been given a position as a junior minister with a seat in the House of Lords. Irwin Bellow is a friend of Jim Rawnsley. Just think - I have travelled in a car with a man who has danced with the wife of the man who has spoken to Margaret Thatcher on the telephone!
Worked all day without a break. Sarah brought some sandwiches in for me, but otherwise I didn't leave my hot, sweltering typewriter. The Labour party has been shredded. Yippee. I suppose it means the gallows for Jim Callaghan, and by Christmas we'll have Wedgwood Benn at the helm. It is such a relief that we now have a civilised government until at least 1984.
Susan saw a doctor at Yeadon this evening. He says she has some kind of fish poisoning, probably from the seafood salad she had at Salvo's.
Ally came back from her interview to see Mama and seemed quite hopeful of the position. She stayed to lunch before bombing off to Martyr Worthy.
I retired at 12:23am.
-=-
Monday May 7, 1979
_. Bank Holiday in England, Ireland, Scotland & Wales.
Work-free today because it's May. All other nations have a holiday on May 1 to riot in the streets or parade in Moscow or shoot someone in the backstreets of Istanbul.
Had breakfast with David G and Alison. She thinks he is insane, and it's touching how he watches her with spaniel-like tendencies. Dad is quite correct when he says David has Rembrandt-like qualities. All craggy like one of the master's self-portraits.
The three of us went off in Alison's Midget sports car, roof down. Dave looked amazing sitting up in the back with what is left of his hair blowing in the damp, soggy atmosphere. We called on Lynn and Dave at Burley-in-W. David was messing round with his kitchen door and we waded through wood shavings to say hello. After a brief visit we went off in the direction of the Dales. Burnsall was too crowded - the tourists were out in force - peasants from the filthy urban areas. We found ourselves in the packed Tennant's Arms at Kilnsey, in the shadow of the jutting crag. Pints of ale and steak and kidney pie saw us through to 3pm and we journeyed back laughing like six year-olds at other motorists and waving at people in the style of our dear, beloved Queen Mother.
At home poor Sue was in bed after being taken ill at the office.
We ate fish and chips and sat in front of the telly all night - a war film dragged on for hours and in the midst of it Alison went off to Lynn's for the night, nervous about her interview tomorrow.
Bed at about 12:30.
-=-
Work-free today because it's May. All other nations have a holiday on May 1 to riot in the streets or parade in Moscow or shoot someone in the backstreets of Istanbul.
Had breakfast with David G and Alison. She thinks he is insane, and it's touching how he watches her with spaniel-like tendencies. Dad is quite correct when he says David has Rembrandt-like qualities. All craggy like one of the master's self-portraits.
The three of us went off in Alison's Midget sports car, roof down. Dave looked amazing sitting up in the back with what is left of his hair blowing in the damp, soggy atmosphere. We called on Lynn and Dave at Burley-in-W. David was messing round with his kitchen door and we waded through wood shavings to say hello. After a brief visit we went off in the direction of the Dales. Burnsall was too crowded - the tourists were out in force - peasants from the filthy urban areas. We found ourselves in the packed Tennant's Arms at Kilnsey, in the shadow of the jutting crag. Pints of ale and steak and kidney pie saw us through to 3pm and we journeyed back laughing like six year-olds at other motorists and waving at people in the style of our dear, beloved Queen Mother.
At home poor Sue was in bed after being taken ill at the office.
We ate fish and chips and sat in front of the telly all night - a war film dragged on for hours and in the midst of it Alison went off to Lynn's for the night, nervous about her interview tomorrow.
Bed at about 12:30.
-=-
Sunday May 6, 1979
_. Up for breakfast. My mother is an ogre and resembles Rumpelstiltskin all morning ~ in fact all day. Our guests must think she is insane. The atmosphere is ghastly throughout. We didn't go out for a lunchtime drink and instead sat looking at old photo albums. Our only adventure was when David G, Alison and I went for a quick ten minute constitutional around Tranmere Park.
It was back to stony silence and an old Peter Finch film. We were so desperate we were reduced to looking through old copies of 'Private Eye' to stir up some amusement.
Motherdear and I reached our 'climax' as it were, and the tension began to subside from then on. We had roast beef for dinner, &c. Afterwards Peter took us (Dave G, Ally, Sue and I) to the Half Way House on Hollins Hill. Not a good pub, and far from interesting. Dave was amusing. He sank a couple of pints straight back without comment, as he must have missed his quota today.
Bed at 1am.
-=-
It was back to stony silence and an old Peter Finch film. We were so desperate we were reduced to looking through old copies of 'Private Eye' to stir up some amusement.
Motherdear and I reached our 'climax' as it were, and the tension began to subside from then on. We had roast beef for dinner, &c. Afterwards Peter took us (Dave G, Ally, Sue and I) to the Half Way House on Hollins Hill. Not a good pub, and far from interesting. Dave was amusing. He sank a couple of pints straight back without comment, as he must have missed his quota today.
Bed at 1am.
-=-
Saturday May 5, 1979
_. A bugger of a day really. I woke up and the clock said nine o'clock. I had slept for seventeen hours.
Mum tells me David G is coming by train and will be here by 2pm. The other good news is that dearest Alison is with us once again. She arrived at 1pm and with Sue and Peter we went to the Yorkshire Rose for a 'buppy' (one of Dad's terms for a drink). A hideous scene awaited us. A couple of drunks were drinking themselves into paralysis and were rolling around like animals on the sticky carpet. Another scruffy individual was sleeping in a corner ~ all this and the landlord and bar staff were giggling. Sadly, Mum and Dad intend celebrating their silver wedding anniversary here. To make matters worse the place was swarming with dogs.
On to the Regent and home at 3pm to find David G drinking wine with Mother. At 6pm we went to Salvo's at Headingley for pizzas - well, that is David G, me, Sue, Peter and Alison. Alison is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority on Tuesday.
Afterwards we went to the Taps in Ilkley and then met Lynn & Dave at the Cow and Calf. I didn't like the place. It was packed with twelve year-olds, and so we moved to the Fox & Hounds which is too incredibly boring. When I suggested going on to Roger Ratcliffe's party in Leeds it wasn't well received. Subsequently we returned to Pine Tops in argumentative mood. I had bought a bottle of wine and a party can of ale.
Mum and Dad came in late from Wilsill where they had dined with Jim and Margaret. Squabbled furiously. We played Monopoly until Ally lost the little dog and everyone else fell asleep. Peter stole £600,000 of Monopoly money and slipped it amongst my toytown cash. Subsequently I was accused of cheating. The noise was dreadful. At 3am we woke Mum from her slumbers whilst arguing about the sleeping arrangements. Some very hot tempers flared throughout the household.
-=-
Mum tells me David G is coming by train and will be here by 2pm. The other good news is that dearest Alison is with us once again. She arrived at 1pm and with Sue and Peter we went to the Yorkshire Rose for a 'buppy' (one of Dad's terms for a drink). A hideous scene awaited us. A couple of drunks were drinking themselves into paralysis and were rolling around like animals on the sticky carpet. Another scruffy individual was sleeping in a corner ~ all this and the landlord and bar staff were giggling. Sadly, Mum and Dad intend celebrating their silver wedding anniversary here. To make matters worse the place was swarming with dogs.
On to the Regent and home at 3pm to find David G drinking wine with Mother. At 6pm we went to Salvo's at Headingley for pizzas - well, that is David G, me, Sue, Peter and Alison. Alison is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority on Tuesday.
Afterwards we went to the Taps in Ilkley and then met Lynn & Dave at the Cow and Calf. I didn't like the place. It was packed with twelve year-olds, and so we moved to the Fox & Hounds which is too incredibly boring. When I suggested going on to Roger Ratcliffe's party in Leeds it wasn't well received. Subsequently we returned to Pine Tops in argumentative mood. I had bought a bottle of wine and a party can of ale.
Mum and Dad came in late from Wilsill where they had dined with Jim and Margaret. Squabbled furiously. We played Monopoly until Ally lost the little dog and everyone else fell asleep. Peter stole £600,000 of Monopoly money and slipped it amongst my toytown cash. Subsequently I was accused of cheating. The noise was dreadful. At 3am we woke Mum from her slumbers whilst arguing about the sleeping arrangements. Some very hot tempers flared throughout the household.
-=-
Friday May 4, 1979
_. To Ivory Towers on West End Lane (Horsforth). Delia howled with excitement as I sat on the edge of her bed informing her of Jeremy Thorpe's defeat in Devon and the Tory revival in the land. We ate scrambled eggs and drank the fizz. At 8:30am, in brilliant sunshine, Delia drove Sarah and I to the YP. Kathleen was dumbfounded and very nasty about the Tory victory. She didn't approve of me wearing a blue rosette in the office. Library staff, she thinks, ought to be impartial. Blimey, I'm not the fucking Duke of Edinburgh.
After about half an hour I began quite seriously to lose my powers of speech and vision, and a total inability to type. Sarah took me out at 12 and I slumped, almost unconscious, on a park bench in Park Square. At 2 Kathleen realised I was beyond hope of recovery and sent me home. She wanted the flash of my blue rosette out of the office for sure. I got a bus and slept all the way to Guiseley.
At home I focused only briefly on the telly to see Margaret Thatcher leaving Buckingham Palace as our first woman prime minister, and at 4pm I staggered to bed. Four o'clock in the afternoon and I succumb like an eighty year-old geriatric! Lay in bed with the soothing paralysis creeping upon me and contemplating the idea of a Conservative government. My last act of the day was to let out a burst of laughter at the thought of what Mrs T will do to those revolting trade unionists who get out of hand.
-=-
After about half an hour I began quite seriously to lose my powers of speech and vision, and a total inability to type. Sarah took me out at 12 and I slumped, almost unconscious, on a park bench in Park Square. At 2 Kathleen realised I was beyond hope of recovery and sent me home. She wanted the flash of my blue rosette out of the office for sure. I got a bus and slept all the way to Guiseley.
At home I focused only briefly on the telly to see Margaret Thatcher leaving Buckingham Palace as our first woman prime minister, and at 4pm I staggered to bed. Four o'clock in the afternoon and I succumb like an eighty year-old geriatric! Lay in bed with the soothing paralysis creeping upon me and contemplating the idea of a Conservative government. My last act of the day was to let out a burst of laughter at the thought of what Mrs T will do to those revolting trade unionists who get out of hand.
-=-
Thursday May 3, 1979
_. General Election. Dad got me out of bed at 5:40am and then went out on very early duty to guard the polling station at Oxford Road School.
At five minutes to seven I took Dad's large bicycle and pedalled to Hawksworth village and cast both my votes for the Conservative party. Giles Shaw the parliamentary candidate and old Mr Freeman, the municipal candidate. I was the first person to vote at the polling station. Cycled back to breakfast with Mother and Susan. Yes, my mother emerged from her bed. I haven't seen her up so early since Christmas.
To the YP with Jim (Rawnsley) and the delightful Jennie. An interesting day at the office. Kathleen is convinced that tomorrow we will have a hung parliament and is convinced that one party with a big, working majority will never happen again. "You have to face the facts, Michael," she intoned: "the vast majority of the British public want a middle-of-the-road type of government with a re-emergence of the Liberal party." I cannot see this wishy-washy attitude catching on at all.
Sarah and I went to Len's Bar for lunch. _________.
Home at 5pm in a snow storm. Yes, snow. Bought a bottle of Cinzano and twenty cigs and wished a 'Merry Christmas' to the silly sods out walking dogs. Quite freezing cold.
Mum was in a nasty temper and we argued like rat and dog (sic). Lynn and Dave B arrived at 6:30 followed by Jim N, Margaret and Julie N at 9 o'clock.
From the very start of the election programme on the BBC it was obvious to all that Margaret Thatcher will be prime minister tomorrow. The swing to the Conservative party was something in the region of five or six per cent throughout the nation. I didn't feel particularly pissed but throughout the night we consumed a vast reservoir of alcohol. Lynn was invited to stay the night, but they left at about 4:30am, and poor, dejected Labour supporter and Jim Callaghan fan Jim Nason went weeping on his way at 5:30. Mum and Dad went off to bed and I cleared some of the debris to the sound of screaming birds in the snow-covered trees. Then, as if empowered by some superior force, I grabbed my jacket, with the stuffed bird stitched to the shoulder, my Mark Phillips style flat cap, and bottle of 55p pomagne, and walked to Ivory Towers, about six miles away, for breakfast with Delia and Sarah.
(Now see the following entry)
-=-
At five minutes to seven I took Dad's large bicycle and pedalled to Hawksworth village and cast both my votes for the Conservative party. Giles Shaw the parliamentary candidate and old Mr Freeman, the municipal candidate. I was the first person to vote at the polling station. Cycled back to breakfast with Mother and Susan. Yes, my mother emerged from her bed. I haven't seen her up so early since Christmas.
To the YP with Jim (Rawnsley) and the delightful Jennie. An interesting day at the office. Kathleen is convinced that tomorrow we will have a hung parliament and is convinced that one party with a big, working majority will never happen again. "You have to face the facts, Michael," she intoned: "the vast majority of the British public want a middle-of-the-road type of government with a re-emergence of the Liberal party." I cannot see this wishy-washy attitude catching on at all.
Sarah and I went to Len's Bar for lunch. _________.
Home at 5pm in a snow storm. Yes, snow. Bought a bottle of Cinzano and twenty cigs and wished a 'Merry Christmas' to the silly sods out walking dogs. Quite freezing cold.
Mum was in a nasty temper and we argued like rat and dog (sic). Lynn and Dave B arrived at 6:30 followed by Jim N, Margaret and Julie N at 9 o'clock.
From the very start of the election programme on the BBC it was obvious to all that Margaret Thatcher will be prime minister tomorrow. The swing to the Conservative party was something in the region of five or six per cent throughout the nation. I didn't feel particularly pissed but throughout the night we consumed a vast reservoir of alcohol. Lynn was invited to stay the night, but they left at about 4:30am, and poor, dejected Labour supporter and Jim Callaghan fan Jim Nason went weeping on his way at 5:30. Mum and Dad went off to bed and I cleared some of the debris to the sound of screaming birds in the snow-covered trees. Then, as if empowered by some superior force, I grabbed my jacket, with the stuffed bird stitched to the shoulder, my Mark Phillips style flat cap, and bottle of 55p pomagne, and walked to Ivory Towers, about six miles away, for breakfast with Delia and Sarah.
(Now see the following entry)
-=-
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