_. Warm and sunny. We chopped down the hideous lilacs in the garden and watch the suffocating conifers breathe a sigh of relief. Dad loves nothing more than hacking away in the undergrowth. He has several very 'Yorkshire Ripper-like' instruments, varying from heavy hammers, to butchery utensils and the usual tools associated with a journeyman joiner. Although I consider myself a tree conservationist I am happy with the result.
Went to the YP at 5pm. Had mounds of filing to do. Saw Charles who didn't seem too bad after the orgy last night. I do not envy him going off to Borneo with Linda Shaw. The YP was a waste of time.
Home in a taxi at 12. The driver was insignificant and lacking in colour. Obviously Jewish and addicted to tobacco. We discussed the weather and the current performance of Leeds United, which left me as cold as Karl Marx. I don't give a damn about Ray Hankin or John Hawley, or whether Adamson should sell them or not.
-=-
20190618
Tuesday August 28, 1979
_. To Charles and Linda's farewell party at the Victoria pub [Leeds] and then on to Belinda's.
Earlier at the YP it was Mountbatten news all day. Lord Brabourne's mother, the Dowager Lady Brabourne died today from her wounds received in the explosion. She was 82. Meanwhile, Patricia Brabourne, Lord Brabourne and their son Timothy [twin of the dead Nicholas] are critical.
The earl is to have a state funeral at Westminster Abbey next week. Surely, this is the hardest blow to the Royal Family since the sudden death of King George VI in 1952. The Duke of Edinburgh was brought up by Dickie Mountbatten and cast in his mould.
Nothing will come of this assassination. Humphrey St John Atkins will lay his head on the chopping block and visit Belfast, but no legislation will be introduced. A couple of MIG fighters and a battalion of Household Cavalry would have the IRA fucked within the hour, if the PM would give the word.
-=-
Earlier at the YP it was Mountbatten news all day. Lord Brabourne's mother, the Dowager Lady Brabourne died today from her wounds received in the explosion. She was 82. Meanwhile, Patricia Brabourne, Lord Brabourne and their son Timothy [twin of the dead Nicholas] are critical.
The earl is to have a state funeral at Westminster Abbey next week. Surely, this is the hardest blow to the Royal Family since the sudden death of King George VI in 1952. The Duke of Edinburgh was brought up by Dickie Mountbatten and cast in his mould.
Nothing will come of this assassination. Humphrey St John Atkins will lay his head on the chopping block and visit Belfast, but no legislation will be introduced. A couple of MIG fighters and a battalion of Household Cavalry would have the IRA fucked within the hour, if the PM would give the word.
-=-
Monday August 27, 1979
_. Bank Holiday in England, Northern Ireland & Wales
Had a late breakfast and at 12 we left for London. Within an hour we were on the steps of St Margaret's Church, Westminster, having a photo taken. We peeped through the railings at the Palace of Westminster down into the car park where Airey Neave was murdered in March. Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park was amusing but the speakers today were not very articulate and were abusive and offensive. The police outnumbered the listeners by about 10 to one. Ally picked up a blister and with her feet hanging off we took the tube to Marble Arch to collect the car.
We headed for home but wanted food, and not wanting to eat in one of the motorway concentration camps we left the motorway near Birmingham in search of a Berni Inn. However, we were shocked and horrified by two words in large print on a Birmingham Evening News newspaper stand: 'MOUNTBATTEN KILLED'. We were stunned. Especially after our weekend visit to his home. How can this have happened and in what circumstances has he died? We gulped down rump steaks and head back to the car, but the radio was knackered, crackling, and we could not hear the news.
Up the M5 to the M62 and onto Guiseley. Home for 12. Mum gave us the dreadful details. Lord Mountbatten died instantly when his cruiser was blown up in County Sligo this afternoon. His grandson, Nicholas Knatchbull died too, and other members of his family are seriously injured, including his daughter, Patricia, and her husband, Lord Brabourne, the film producer. The IRA have claimed responsibility for this ghastly act of terrorism. The Royal Family will be in a state of turmoil. The Queen is described as being 'deeply shocked' at the news. He was of course her dear 'Uncle Dickie'. Philip and the Prince of Wales worship him as a father figure. The nation is in mourning.
-=-
Had a late breakfast and at 12 we left for London. Within an hour we were on the steps of St Margaret's Church, Westminster, having a photo taken. We peeped through the railings at the Palace of Westminster down into the car park where Airey Neave was murdered in March. Speaker's Corner in Hyde Park was amusing but the speakers today were not very articulate and were abusive and offensive. The police outnumbered the listeners by about 10 to one. Ally picked up a blister and with her feet hanging off we took the tube to Marble Arch to collect the car.
We headed for home but wanted food, and not wanting to eat in one of the motorway concentration camps we left the motorway near Birmingham in search of a Berni Inn. However, we were shocked and horrified by two words in large print on a Birmingham Evening News newspaper stand: 'MOUNTBATTEN KILLED'. We were stunned. Especially after our weekend visit to his home. How can this have happened and in what circumstances has he died? We gulped down rump steaks and head back to the car, but the radio was knackered, crackling, and we could not hear the news.
Up the M5 to the M62 and onto Guiseley. Home for 12. Mum gave us the dreadful details. Lord Mountbatten died instantly when his cruiser was blown up in County Sligo this afternoon. His grandson, Nicholas Knatchbull died too, and other members of his family are seriously injured, including his daughter, Patricia, and her husband, Lord Brabourne, the film producer. The IRA have claimed responsibility for this ghastly act of terrorism. The Royal Family will be in a state of turmoil. The Queen is described as being 'deeply shocked' at the news. He was of course her dear 'Uncle Dickie'. Philip and the Prince of Wales worship him as a father figure. The nation is in mourning.
-=-
Sunday August 26, 1979
_. 11th Sunday after Trinity
A beautiful hot day. The sun shone as though it might be summer. After a late breakfast it was down the lane to the Plough Inn for a lunchtime session. Midge, the landlady, looks even more like Ronnie Barker in drag, with her new hair do. Tony, her son, tells me that Earl Mountbatten has a 25 year-old girlfriend known only as Mary-Lou, who lives on the Broadlands estate in a 'grace and favour' cottage. I dispute this saying she must be a girlfriend of one of the grandsons, but he [Tony], resident in Romsey for years, says he knows full well what is going on.
At 2 Ally and I had a long walk by the River Itchen, and the scene was a romantic one. However, the constant sound of pounding water gave us the urge to create floods of our own, and we hurried back to the loo at Chillandham Cross over the meadows.
Luncheon consisted of prawn cocktail, roast turkey, late at 4pm, with Ally and Mr & Mrs D. Andrew was out playing cricket.
Graham [Smith] and Charlotte called in later. Back to the Plough until 2am. Locked in the lounge bar with Tony [who must be about 7ft tall]. We drank that Greek drink from Greece ~ Ouzo. Vomit on the way home at 2am followed by severe hiccoughs. I sat reading the Sunday Telegraph in bed, which eased the bilious attack and focused by bleary eyes. William Douglas Home's extracts from his forthcoming autobiography are very good.
Puzzled by a comment from one of Tony's friends who told us that his own mother lusts after him. Incest rearing its ugly head in Hampshire.
-=-
A beautiful hot day. The sun shone as though it might be summer. After a late breakfast it was down the lane to the Plough Inn for a lunchtime session. Midge, the landlady, looks even more like Ronnie Barker in drag, with her new hair do. Tony, her son, tells me that Earl Mountbatten has a 25 year-old girlfriend known only as Mary-Lou, who lives on the Broadlands estate in a 'grace and favour' cottage. I dispute this saying she must be a girlfriend of one of the grandsons, but he [Tony], resident in Romsey for years, says he knows full well what is going on.
At 2 Ally and I had a long walk by the River Itchen, and the scene was a romantic one. However, the constant sound of pounding water gave us the urge to create floods of our own, and we hurried back to the loo at Chillandham Cross over the meadows.
Luncheon consisted of prawn cocktail, roast turkey, late at 4pm, with Ally and Mr & Mrs D. Andrew was out playing cricket.
Graham [Smith] and Charlotte called in later. Back to the Plough until 2am. Locked in the lounge bar with Tony [who must be about 7ft tall]. We drank that Greek drink from Greece ~ Ouzo. Vomit on the way home at 2am followed by severe hiccoughs. I sat reading the Sunday Telegraph in bed, which eased the bilious attack and focused by bleary eyes. William Douglas Home's extracts from his forthcoming autobiography are very good.
Puzzled by a comment from one of Tony's friends who told us that his own mother lusts after him. Incest rearing its ugly head in Hampshire.
-=-
Saturday August 25, 1979
_. Last night we decided to visit Broadlands, home of Lord Mountbatten, today. It's only a few miles away at Romsey.
Woke up at 9 to see Graham, as black as the ace of spades. He had arrived home from Corfu in the early hours and was preparing to go off with Gill to her holiday cottage in the Isle of Wight.
It was pouring with rain when we left for Broadlands at about 12. The exterior looked tatty, but the rooms were interesting if only for their royal associations. The house was packed out with geriatrics, and Ally was depressed by the bustling 'sardine' atmosphere. We didn't linger, because of the pounding rain. Earl Mountbatten wasn't at home but we watched a film in his private cinema showing photographs of scenes from his colourful life.
At 2-ish we found bedraggled refuge in a pub in Romsey. We spent a fortune shovelling money into the juke box, which is becoming a habit these days.
Tonight Ally and I had a pizza in Southampton. We then met her friends Mark Forbes, Tony, and Pete [?] and found a disco called Fridays. The doorman wanted my ID. It's an over 25s club. Left at about 1am for Martyr Worthy.
-=-
Woke up at 9 to see Graham, as black as the ace of spades. He had arrived home from Corfu in the early hours and was preparing to go off with Gill to her holiday cottage in the Isle of Wight.
It was pouring with rain when we left for Broadlands at about 12. The exterior looked tatty, but the rooms were interesting if only for their royal associations. The house was packed out with geriatrics, and Ally was depressed by the bustling 'sardine' atmosphere. We didn't linger, because of the pounding rain. Earl Mountbatten wasn't at home but we watched a film in his private cinema showing photographs of scenes from his colourful life.
At 2-ish we found bedraggled refuge in a pub in Romsey. We spent a fortune shovelling money into the juke box, which is becoming a habit these days.
Tonight Ally and I had a pizza in Southampton. We then met her friends Mark Forbes, Tony, and Pete [?] and found a disco called Fridays. The doorman wanted my ID. It's an over 25s club. Left at about 1am for Martyr Worthy.
-=-
Friday August 24, 1979
_. So, Ally and I eloped, at long last. At 12:30 she collected me from the YP and we headed down the M1 arriving at Oxford for just after three. My first visit to the place and not quite as grand as I expected. We ate cheese and biscuits in a grubby café called Kane's and then made a modest tour of the city. Balliol College, &c.
On the road again at 5:30 arriving at Martyr Worthy for about 7 o'clock. Tea and scones with Bill [sic] and Bessie Dixon. Bessie was more scatter-brained than ever. Mr Dixon had spent a busy day negotiating with the Libyan government over their request for a £5m loan to purchase bullet-proof vests. Barclays have flatly refused to contemplate a loan.
Out to the Ship Inn, at Alresford. I had scampi and Ally whitebait [?]. On to the Plough Inn, Itchen Abbas, where we became quite intoxicated.
-=-
On the road again at 5:30 arriving at Martyr Worthy for about 7 o'clock. Tea and scones with Bill [sic] and Bessie Dixon. Bessie was more scatter-brained than ever. Mr Dixon had spent a busy day negotiating with the Libyan government over their request for a £5m loan to purchase bullet-proof vests. Barclays have flatly refused to contemplate a loan.
Out to the Ship Inn, at Alresford. I had scampi and Ally whitebait [?]. On to the Plough Inn, Itchen Abbas, where we became quite intoxicated.
-=-
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