Saturday March 22, 1980

_. Up with the larks and out into Grassington purchasing sausages and rich tea biscuits. Glynnie and Ally performed in the kitchen like Fanny and Johnny Cradock. I made the lashings of hot tea.

Afterwards we walked into the hills and clowned around in the snow. Glynnie was knackered. We returned to the Black Horse. Sue was taken ill. She took on a ghastly colour and fled the pub abandoning her brandy and ham sandwiches. An elderly lady came into the bar and said to Glynnie: "Morning's gorgeous" but he thought she's said 'good morning, gorgeous', and he replied: "Morning, Sexy". How we howled. Glynnie is a natural comedian and really should be on the stage.

The atmosphere is the Grassington taverns was more tense than on previous occasions and we soon realised there wasn't much chance of us having a 'lock in' in any of them. I decided to convert the kitchen of the cottage into a discotheque, which commenced at 11 after having fish and chips in the village. Only Ally, Glynnie and I took part, the others were far from festive. We ended the night drinking lager from a large tea pot and dancing, scantily clad, in the garden.

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