_. Wasn't that a delightful little diversion? For the first time in the seven year history of this journal I handed over the pen to another. Subsequently, the entries for the last few days have not been my own, but those of Miss Alison Mary Dixon.
It was a ghastly day... or should I say night? Out at 7pm with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J to Salvo's. I had first been to tea with Auntie Delia at Ivory Towers. The annual YP library Christmas 'nosh up' is always a failure, and even Kathleen's planned absence didn't help. We spent £10 from the kitty which was donated by an obliging Swede for whom we made photostats of the Yorkshire Ripper cuttings. In other words we dined out courtesy of the Yorkshire Ripper. Despite the paper hats and plastic whistles the evening was a bore. At home Mum and Dad were extremely frosty. Things haven't been too good lately and the sound of raised voices penetrated the bedroom wall, and I realised only to well that I was in for 'one of those nights'. Mum got up and drove to Burley.
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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 28, 1985
South Wood Farm, Cotleigh, Devon South Wood Farm. Out of bed bright and early. Another sunny day. What a week we have had. Ally did the pac...

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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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