Tuesday October 23, 1979

_. It's no good. I'm going to have to give up the practice of reading Hitler in bed every night. I now have a recurring dream where I am a high ranking officer in the Wehrmacht. Far from pleasant.

Daddy woke me this morning with one of his dreadful cups of tea at some time close to 11. Downstairs I boiled a couple of eggs and chatted with Mum, who is in a better frame of mind. It's odd how she suddenly goes into a decline for days on end. Is it her age, do you think? Afterwards I went into the garden and played silly buggers with the privet hedge. I am a real little Percy Thrower.

Ally summoned me to the phone to discuss the 1980 summer holiday. Have I mentioned that Susan and Peter want to honeymoon with Ally, Dave, Garry and I? This may seem very weird to many but knowing Sue and Pete as I do I think it only natural and right. They are perhaps the most un-romantic pair to walk the earth since Pearl Carr and Teddy Johnson. Ally became quite irate on the phone and was close to blowing her top. The whole of Ibiza is fully booked for next summer by the look of things with possibly the exception of the Es Pla [near the Marco Polo] in San Antonio, which unfortunately is full board and will cost £248 before the traditional airport surcharge, insurance and the like. I told Ally that we ought to take this option, but of course Sue and Pete are the most important and should be consulted first.

To the YP at 5. Home by taxi with a driver who is a leading expert on the subject Leeds Jews and their activities.

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Monday October 22, 1979

_, Gossip columnists are becoming desperate and hysterical on the subject of the Prince of Wales and his future princess. It's getting beyond a joke. Following the wedding of Lord Romsey on Saturday the Daily Mail were laying bets this morning that Charles's bride will be Edwina Hicks, daughter of David and Lady Pamela Hicks, and of course a granddaughter of the late Earl Mountbatten. The Daily Express, on the other hand, says the P of W will marry Lady Amanda Knatchbull, youngest daughter of Lord Brabourne and the new Countess Mountbatten. It is clear to me that the prince will not marry either of these delightful ladies. On the one hand they are both too closely related to Charles, and on the other neither of them are fair or buxom. The Prince of Wales is on record as stating that he likes his ladies 'big and blonde'. Lady Amanda is quite the opposite and endowed with a large Knatchbull hooter which rules her out immediately. The next Princess of Wales must be stunning and sensational. These are the only attributes I can certainly confirm she'll have.

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Sunday October 21, 1979

_. 19th Sunday after Trinity

A day of recuperation and relaxation. Janice took Dave G off to Goole at about 8:30am. He cannot have been happy.  Lynn [looking ghastly] and Dave left at about 10, and Karen, Steve, Jill and Tim followed soon after. Sue, Pete, Ally and I idled around the house, and then went over the road to the pub [the Second West?] for a 'hair of the dog'. Lidget Green isn't such a bad spot really. Peter glowers at the sight of so many colonial residents but I harbour no ill will to our Commonwealth brothers. Indeed, I'd very much like to be dark brown myself.

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Saturday October 20, 1979

_. Sunny day, and warm. Mum remained in bed for most of the day with her 'cold'. She was really miserable. I went into Guiseley to buy a film for the camera and a plant to cheer Ma up. Back home at 2.

Dave G and Janice arrived at 7 as did Karen and Steve, Lynn and Dave. We went in convoy fashion to Lidget Green. Janice was quiet, but pleasant and exclaimed: "Oh Michael. You haven't changed have you?" Oh dear. Jill and Tim joined us at Club Street and we went on a pub crawl, including 'Mucky Willie's'. Drank whisky in vast quantities. Back for a house party. Sat in the cellar with Steve S and Pete discussing the Territorial Army. Ally banged away on the piano, and somebody went out for a huge order of fish and chips. Dave G and Lynn had a 'heart to heart' on the steps and Janice wasn't happy [so I've been told]. In usual tradition Lynn was in tears and Dave G was in a similar condition.

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Friday October 19, 1979

_. Ally chauffeured me into Leeds at 8am. She's having another day on the skive. Having no change of clothes I wore one of her old sweat shirts with 'Plough Inn, Itchen Abbas' plastered across the front. This made me a figure of ridicule for the whole day.

At 1pm Ally returned and we went to Len's Bar which they have ruined by recent alterations, and then the Central Station. YP and YEP staff are packed in the bar including John MacMurray and Michael Brown. We argued about the current debate in the Church of England regarding homosexual priests. I don't understand the problem. Why just pick on queer vicars? Why do bent butchers, bankers, boxers and barristers slip through the net?

Home at 5 [I had been half an hour late back from lunch and Kathleen appeared peculiarly unconcerned]. Mum is ill and their car has broken down.

Out at 7:30 to the White Cross, the Drop and then the Cross again. Saw Patrice Saunders but couldn't understand a word he said. Home at 11:30 and saw Sir Harold Wilson as the host of a new repulsive chat show.

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Thursday October 18, 1979

_. A different sort of night out. At 6 I went to Bradford by bus and then found a green bus to Lidget Green where I landed at 7. Found Ally in a peculiar mood. She hasn't had the energy or inclination to go into the office since Monday and has been moping around the house in a morose cloud. She's been in bed for most of the day until late afternoon ____________.

I took her off to three pubs within walking distance. She cheered up considerably. Back at home we phoned Dave G. He's bringing Janice on Saturday. Ally played the piano. Stayed the night.

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Wednesday October 17, 1979

_. Princess Margaret is having a good time in Chicago where she is on a tour to boost the fortunes of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. On arriving in Chicago [my kind of town] she enquired after the health of the mayor, Mr Richard Daley, and was told that he had sadly died in December, 1976. Her meeting with the current living mayor, Jane Byrne, has had its moments too. At a dinner someone mentioned Lord Mountbatten's funeral, and the princess is alleged to have snapped: "The Irish, they are pigs!" Mrs Byrne is an Irish-American and newspaper reports this morning state that she made a quick exit from the party following Margaret's retort. However, this evening the press office for Mrs Byrne said that HRH has referred to Uncle Dickie's murderers as "pigs", without insulting our Irish friends. ________.

A cold day. Autumnal to say the least. The trees are just about stark naked. A slightly better day at the YP. Home and five and ate with Susie. Mum & Dad went off to Lynn's for dinner. Dad was on the verge of collapse because he finds it impossible to hang on until 7pm to dine.

Watched Michael Palin's 'Ripping Yarns' on the BBC. Fantastic. Peter and I howled with laughter so much so that Sue pleaded with us to belt up so that she could hear what they were saying. To bed with Hitler again. I'm still only half way through this huge tome.

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