_. Felt ghastly all day and incapable of work. Sarah gave we woeful looks as I sat quivering and heaving like a cholera victim, or the Rt Rev William Gordon Fallows, Bishop of Sheffield [deceased], a Parkinson's sufferer. Fortunately Kathleen left at 12 thereby enabling me to do sweet sod all in the afternoon.
To Club Street at 5 for a hurried dinner with Ally and then it was back to Leeds to the Lounge Cinema at Headingley for 'Heaven Can Wait', a Warren Beatty film, and 'Smokey and the Bandit', starring Burt Reynolds. I'd seen the first film before, with Jacq, and Ally was surprised I wanted to see it again 'not a Michael film at all' was her verdict. I do have a soft spot for Dyan Cannon, and do have a small amount of romance in me.
Back to Pine Tops at 11 for drinks with Jim and Margaret. I slept extremely well. Nisi quando Podagra molesta est.
-=-
20200518
Wednesday May 21, 1980
_> Ally is 22 today. Dry day. We met at 12 and partook in alcoholic beverages at [1] The Ostlers, [2] Russell's Bar, and [3] Jacomelli's, Boar Lane. Afterwards she went skipping into a shop and bought two dresses. Walking hand in hand through town we bumped into Sarah.
We went back to Club Street with a couple of singles, gifts from me. 'Stomp' by the Brothers Johnson, and 'Funky Town' by Lipps Inc, the twelve inch disco single. She bathed. We went to Guiseley, where I did a quick change, and then on we went to Lynn & Dave's [with Sue & Pete] for chicken. Afterwards to the Queen's [Lynn's favourite Burley pub]. Ally and I went to Oakwood, just the two of us, from 10:30 to 1:45.
Back and Pine Tops we ate fish cakes in my bed.
-=-
We went back to Club Street with a couple of singles, gifts from me. 'Stomp' by the Brothers Johnson, and 'Funky Town' by Lipps Inc, the twelve inch disco single. She bathed. We went to Guiseley, where I did a quick change, and then on we went to Lynn & Dave's [with Sue & Pete] for chicken. Afterwards to the Queen's [Lynn's favourite Burley pub]. Ally and I went to Oakwood, just the two of us, from 10:30 to 1:45.
Back and Pine Tops we ate fish cakes in my bed.
-=-
Tuesday May 20, 1980
_. Rain. To work in an overcoat. How utterly miserable. Jim says that Patrick ventured out for the very first time on his own, yesterday. [Well, except for the time last week when he walked into Guiseley to collect a prescription for Muriel's bowel ailment]. The lad went with a few friends to Cambridge where he had 'an experience' in a punt and missed the last train home.
King Henry VIII married Jane Seymour upon this day in 1536. Was she his favourite Queen? I think so. I rang my favourite future queen at the Bradford AHA and engaged in a complex and confused conversation centred upon the trivialities of this world that I've generally allowed to pass me by. Tomorrow is her birthday. Bless her, she'll be 22. We are spending the afternoon in Leeds and going on to Lynn and Dave's for dinner. What time was she born? Her mother cannot remember and so this vital item of information is lost forever. Astrologically, it's a terrible omission.
At lunchtime I went into the Central library and took out a volume of diaries of the Rev William Bagshaw Stevens, who kept a journal from 1792 until his death in 1800 at the age of 45. I do hope one day that someone somewhere will have the good sense to set my journal down in print. I'm not writing crouched uncomfortably on my bedroom floor for the good of my health, you know. Mind you, I hold, and never shall hold, a government post, or be headmaster of Repton, but surely someone will derive pleasure from my illiterate, abusive ramblings? Tonight I sat reading the clergyman's journal which is crammed with Latin and Greek quotes, and little else. Some entries are so brief, they're worthless. I feel quite proud of myself turning out page after page of action-packed riveting script. Goodnight. Magno cum conatu magnas nugas dicit. Caw! Caw! Caw!.
-=-
King Henry VIII married Jane Seymour upon this day in 1536. Was she his favourite Queen? I think so. I rang my favourite future queen at the Bradford AHA and engaged in a complex and confused conversation centred upon the trivialities of this world that I've generally allowed to pass me by. Tomorrow is her birthday. Bless her, she'll be 22. We are spending the afternoon in Leeds and going on to Lynn and Dave's for dinner. What time was she born? Her mother cannot remember and so this vital item of information is lost forever. Astrologically, it's a terrible omission.
At lunchtime I went into the Central library and took out a volume of diaries of the Rev William Bagshaw Stevens, who kept a journal from 1792 until his death in 1800 at the age of 45. I do hope one day that someone somewhere will have the good sense to set my journal down in print. I'm not writing crouched uncomfortably on my bedroom floor for the good of my health, you know. Mind you, I hold, and never shall hold, a government post, or be headmaster of Repton, but surely someone will derive pleasure from my illiterate, abusive ramblings? Tonight I sat reading the clergyman's journal which is crammed with Latin and Greek quotes, and little else. Some entries are so brief, they're worthless. I feel quite proud of myself turning out page after page of action-packed riveting script. Goodnight. Magno cum conatu magnas nugas dicit. Caw! Caw! Caw!.
-=-
Monday May 19, 1980
_. Royal news: The Queen's cousin, the Hon Elizabeth Elphinstone, has died aged 68. Something of a recluse she lived for some years on a commune. The Queen, not plunged into family mourning, today visited the Chelsea Flower Show.
In other royal news, the Lord Mayor of York is to petition the Queen to create Prince Andrew Duke of York. I have every faith the the Queen will one day bestow this much loved peerage on her second son, and doesn't need to be reminded of this by some upstart of a Lord Mayor. King George VI held the title for 16 years, and it 'merged in the crown' on the abdication of King Edward VIII in 1936.
The Times today says that the Queen will invite the Pope to make a visit to the UK when she visits him in Rome in October. Hard to believe, isn't it? For centuries we officially boycotted all things papist. Talk of the Prince of Wales marrying a Roman Catholic will be re-kindled, no doubt.
Charles's old flame, Lady Sarah Spencer, married Neil McCorquodale on Saturday. That's another name to cross off the list. The girl has red hair and that, as far as I'm concerned, is far more objectionable than any religious differences. Given the choice of the next Princess of Wales being RC or a red head, and I'll go for the former any day.
A film on the telly. A Burt Lancaster western in which Audrey Hepburn plays a Red Indian squaw rather badly. And so to bed, at midnight.
-=-
In other royal news, the Lord Mayor of York is to petition the Queen to create Prince Andrew Duke of York. I have every faith the the Queen will one day bestow this much loved peerage on her second son, and doesn't need to be reminded of this by some upstart of a Lord Mayor. King George VI held the title for 16 years, and it 'merged in the crown' on the abdication of King Edward VIII in 1936.
The Times today says that the Queen will invite the Pope to make a visit to the UK when she visits him in Rome in October. Hard to believe, isn't it? For centuries we officially boycotted all things papist. Talk of the Prince of Wales marrying a Roman Catholic will be re-kindled, no doubt.
Charles's old flame, Lady Sarah Spencer, married Neil McCorquodale on Saturday. That's another name to cross off the list. The girl has red hair and that, as far as I'm concerned, is far more objectionable than any religious differences. Given the choice of the next Princess of Wales being RC or a red head, and I'll go for the former any day.
A film on the telly. A Burt Lancaster western in which Audrey Hepburn plays a Red Indian squaw rather badly. And so to bed, at midnight.
-=-
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Wednesday May 9, 1984
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