_. The weather continues nauseating. Blunt, Blunt, Blunt, and more Blunt, and even more Blunt. Blunt in the morning, Blunt in the evening and Blunt at supper time. It's the poor Queen I feel sorry for. She has been used disgracefully by Cabinet ministers down the years. They asked her to retain Prof Blunt after his confession. She really ought to have Sir J. Hobson [Attorney-General in 1964] exhumed and hanged at Tyburn.
The Press pursuit of Sabrina Guinness seems to have died down. As if we were ever going to see Queen Sabrina anyway. Reading Anthony Holden's biography of the P of Wales, serialised in the Sunday Times. I do feel sorry for the future King. He leads a lonely and aloof existence. Just to dine with his mother he has to arrange the meeting three weeks beforehand, and this is with them both living under the same roof at Buckingham Palace. Before visiting Charles in his palace suite the Queen always telephones first to make an appointment.
Bed with Adolf again. The war is now blazing and Dunkirk is in full swing.
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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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Tuesday March 12, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Sunshine. Dad went to Horton to meet a carpet cleaner and telephone engineer. It was a pleasant surprise when Mum appeared in...
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Moorhouse Inn I expect a visit from Colin Black any day now and I prowl around trying to look useful which can be very time consuming and h...
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Moorhouse Inn, Leeds Sat eating porridge at 7:30am I switched on the radio to hear the news that the Princess of Wales is at the Lindo Wing...
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