_. Independence Day, USA
I went to the YP from Bradford arriving at 8:45. A sunny, blustery sort of day. Frank Metcalfe blames the bad June weather on the volcanic eruption at Mount St Helena. Evidently we had similar atrocious conditions in 1815, after a previous blast. All I know about 1815 is that it was a good year for Wellingtons...... [Waterloo]... Oh dear.
Happy Birthday to HRH Prince Michael of Kent who renounced his claim to a place in the order of succession to the throne in order to marry his stunning Roman Catholic Baroness. I am struck with horror, nay aghast, at the fact that she, Marie-Christine, can never be queen, whereas Patricia Countess of Harewood, an Aussie, and former shorthand typist with a previous husband still living, can.
Rang Ally. She too is working tomorrow afternoon. I left the office at 12. Back at home I had to climb up the rose trees and into my bedroom window because once again I'd forgotten my key. Mum and Dad came in at 2 and I went with Dad to hang wallpaper at West End Terrace. Ally came at 4, with newly permed hair, and Mama was with her looking dejected. They been in Otley together scouring the shops looking for an outfit for Mum to wear at the wedding. Tales of hideous Crimplene skirts at £108, and all that. Ally to the Belfry at 6.
Marlene, Frank, the children, and Auntie Mabel arrived for tea, bringing a wedding present for Sue and Pete.
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