_. Regained consciousness at 10am. Panic reigned. My head, my eyes, my everything. I phoned the YP to be told that the boss is far from happy. Well, I wasn't exactly jubilant either. I went out and got a train to Leeds, and walked into the office at 11:25am. A day of rumblings and deep trauma. I really wanted to take the afternoon off, but thought better of broaching the subject. I couldn't eat my sandwiches and cast them into the bin.
The NGA strike continues and at 2:20 we [that is NATSOPA members] were summoned to a ridiculous meeting in the appropriately named theatre. A silly bitch in sunglasses, a union official, requested that we only carry out our own set of menial duties, and if the NGA ask us to perform any task we have to say 'no'. Ludicrous, if you ask me. By tea time I had recovered enough to walk out of the building and venture homeward. I helped Dad daub paint on the staircase.
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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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Monday June 10, 1985
Waltergarth Phil the Greek is 64 today. We left Samuel with his grandad and went to Skipton for an hour so. Market Day. Returned for lunch...
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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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Moorhouse Inn Snow has fallen through the night and the moor looks like Gstaad today. Ally took Samuel out to the bank and the market at 9....
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