_. 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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Saturday September 7, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Ally was in a collapsed state all day and did her 'Sleeping Beauty' routine on me. Poor Samuel was motherless. A happ...

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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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