Wednesday March 12, 1980

_. A wet morning. To Leeds with Jim. He asked me to research information of the early life of William Hudson, Lord Mayor of Leeds 1977-8, whom he tells me in strictest confidence, has been nominated for an honour in the Queen's Birthday Honours list in June. He also says that the betting shop tycoon Jim Windsor, is also in the running for a gong from the fount of all honour. I have always assumed that one had to suck up to the prime minister when one fancied ones chances for an MBE, or life peerage, but evidently it's been James Rawnsley, Esq, all along.

I would never accept an MBE, or OBE for that matter. Such trinkets I associate with long serving executives at the local water authority, or school caretakers. And as for life peerages I'd no sooner join the likes of Lord George-Brown and Joe Kagan, than fly. Gone are the days when honours really were honours. It's the poor Queen I feel sorry for. How ghastly must it be for her, with those endless queues of social workers, and canteen supervisors, lining up for recognition?

I posted a letter to John and Maria telling them of my Easter plans. It was pouring with rain and so John MacMurray kindly offered to post it for me as he left the office.

Typed a letter to Ally tonight. She wanted information on the subject of George III's children.

At 9 I watched a new drama on BBC2 starring Kate Nelligan. Lots of bare buttock fondling.

Mum and Dad borrowed Pete's car and went to Morrison's.

-=-