_. Clad in my finest gear I set out at 11 to pay court to Miss Dixon. I found her reclining in her boudoir. She pottered around upstairs and I sat twiddling my thumbs. This set the scene for the day.
A little man appeared at 1:30, with a sizeable tool box, and he went up into the loft in search of damp patches.
At 9pm we went to a couple of pubs in Thornton. Ally thought she might bump into her office mate, the demure, tiny, mouse-like Catherine and her fiance, David. But we were left alone for the night. We did a fair bit of giggling. I now look as though I've just flown in from Nassau, Bahamas, thanks to the infrared sun lamp. Fish and Chips in Lidget Green and then back to Club Street, where I discovered a wonderful delicacy: blackcurrant jelly flooded in gin. It's an ideal way to get shy and innocent people to discard all their clothing.
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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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Wednesday September 4, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Overcast - me and the weather. The alarm sounded at 7 but Ally switched it off for half an hour. Felt groggy and could have s...
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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...
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