_. 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.
-=-
Monday March 2, 1987
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