_. Slept until lunchtime which is annoying. The day has passed me by. Out in the garden with Papa. He wants to move a large conifer tree from the front to the back. The offending tree is about 8ft tall and I fear for its future. My researches show that coniferous bushes are hardy, with close-knit roots. So, roll on transplant time.
To the YP at 4:30 and hear from Kathleen about of Chilean work-mate. He goes by the name of Alfredo [sic] Hernandez. ___________.
Home at 12 in a taxi driven by a poor misguided soul who tomorrow is packing everything in, quitting our shores, and removing himself to a far flung and obscure corner of the Empire called New Zealand. Blimey, I thought we had stopped doing such hideous exoduses back in the 1960s. I'd sooner emigrate to Saturn or Washington New Town. He [the taxi driver] no doubt thinks that the streets of Wellington are paved with gold. Ate, and then bed at 1am.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
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Saturday September 7, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Ally was in a collapsed state all day and did her 'Sleeping Beauty' routine on me. Poor Samuel was motherless. A happ...

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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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