Wednesday July 2, 1980

_. A dry day. Industrious day at the YP with my hard-working assistant, John, from Worsburgh, near Barnsley. Sarah left at lunchtime to get her hair flashed and I was left with Carol J, who was in a foul temper because ______ is reported to have worms, which she says is highly contagious. Thankfully, I am safe, and spared the ailment having gobbled down the Shih Tzu's pills. What a giggle.

Sarah thinks it unwise and deep folly that I should consider abandoning NATSOPA. My over time payments and night duty extras will suffer, and, she added, my job might be in jeopardy if redundancies are ever inflicted upon a hysterical YP work force. Those not in a trade union would be the first to face the chop. However, I want to stick to my guns and tell the whole bunch of them to piss off. It's out of character, it really is, that I should be a member of a trade union.

I got the 735 bus at 5, but it broke down and grinded to a halt outside Yeadon Town Hall, leaving me stranded. I decided to walk home down Queensway and onto Tennyson Street, and found it impossible to walk past the Lawson abode without calling on Dave L. Albert Lawson was watching Wimbledon, and Dave was out in the fields with Rowan, the Gordon Setter. He and Dave are going for a holiday to Ilfracombe, minus Audrey Lawson, still shacked up with her lover in Otley. Albert and I went out in search of David and found him in Nunroyd Park, knee deep in wet grass. The dog was rampant. He could obviously sense the Shih Tzu kidney pills. Albert drove me home.

Sue and Pete are recovering from Florence Nason's cremation. Sue wasn't too bereft.

Phoned Ally several times today. We are going out tomorrow.

Mama has installed a new TV set with remote controls. It can even pick up Tyne Tees, you know. We've had the old set since the day of the FA Cup Final in 1972, and so a change was long overdue.

We spent the night worshipping around the new gogglebox.

-=-

Tuesday July 1, 1980

_. Dominion Day, Canada

Dismal, wet. Went to work in an overcoat, very over-dressed, but wanted to avoid the soaking. Spent the day with my nervous schoolboy assistant, who shook with fear behind the filing cabinets. He is however, an intelligent lad.

I phoned Lynn at about 11. She was packed and ready for her holiday. Mum and Dad took them to Yeadon and they flew to Gerona at 2:30. Lynn, was so nervous about flying, and this coupled with the recent atrocities committed by the down-trodden Basques, hasn't helped. Mum reports that the flight left on time, but hated saying goodbye. Mum cannot say goodbye, even for the shortest period, and blames the trauma of parting with Dad when he was called up for national service. Goodbye phobia, it must have a proper name.

I phoned Ally to remind her of my tea time date with Delia and she responded by calling me a 'creep', and asked me not to choke on what morsels of food are placed before me. At 4 Sarah and I met Delia in town and went to Ivory Towers for steak pie followed by strawberries with a lemon soufflé.

Sarah devoured handfuls of vitamin tablets before dining, and Delia gave me a handful, but after swallowing them down with a glass of water we decided that the little blue ones were in fact the Shih Tzu's kidney pills. We rolled around the kitchen in hysterics. What's more, Delia's been taking the pills on a daily basis for some days, and has been having nightmares, and breathless attacks. I fully expected to start barking. Sarah, I think did actually wet herself. Sure enough, the dog's vitamins and pills were there on the same shelf as Sarah's vitamins.

Delia went to St Chad's at Headingley and we accompanied her to the pounding in the car of the Hallé Orchestra's rendition of Ravel's 'Bolero'. Delia went into the church with heaps of flowers, and Sarah and I went to a local hostelry [The Three Horseshoes?] , which took us through until 10. Delia brought me home at 11.

To bed, perhaps not barking, but growling.

-=-

Monday June 30, 1980

_. Need I say it rained again? An efficient day. Joined by a temporary worker, a schoolboy called John, who relieved me of my menial tasks.

Home like a drowned ferret at 6. Went to West End Terrace with Dad, Sue and Pete. Grandma Nason's funeral is fixed for Wednesday. It will be Susan's first. I have resolved to donate my body to a local necrophiliac group on my demise. Kidney donor cards, and such like, hold little appeal for me. To carry one must surely tempt fate. Alison doesn't believe in fate.

I phoned Ally at 2 but Derek Jenkins was in the middle of dictating a letter to her and so I left in a hurry and didn't speak to her again.

-=-

Sunday June 29, 1980

_.4th Sunday after Trinity

Dull, rain. Sue and Pete came in at 12 with the sad news that Pete's grandmother, Florence Nason, died this morning from a heart attack. She was 82, and so looking forward to the wedding. Poor Jim is heartbroken, of course.

Maria and the children came this afternoon and created pandemonium. JPH has a temper. I blame the Celtic blood. Lynn, Dave and Ally came to dinner at 8. Roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, strawberries and cream, wine. Everybody looked shattered. Catherine is still very tiny, with glassy china-blue eyes.

Lynn and Dave left at about 11 with a pile of my shirts, for the Spanish holiday. I cannot help thinking that she isn't looking forward to it. She was very subdued about the whole thing. The Basques are bombing holiday resorts, and despite what I said the other day about plane crashes never coming in pairs, a DC10 has gone down, this time in the sea off Italy.

-=-