_. British Summer Times Begins - 3rd Sunday in Lent
We climbed out of our burrow at about 10:30 and spent the day in the sitting room. Despite the arrival of "summer time" we'd been subject to an attack of snow in the night, however throughout the day the sun shone splendidly, not so splendidly to tempt Ally away from her knitting and into the car. In the past few weeks she's gone almost insame knitting baby garments, like a wartime effort. A look of pure serenity passes over her face as she clicks away.
Watched Bernard Miles in an old wartime film, from 1944, full of propaganda. I was settled for the afternoon, but then Mummy phoned suggesting we accompany them to the Stonehouse Inn, for our first inspection of the pub. We were off like a shot. Sue and Pete were included in the invitation, but Lynn and Dave were visiting Chris and Julie in Easingwold. So, at 7pm we drove the 14 miles to Blubberhouses and spent a couple of hours in the tatty, endearing pub, which is typical Yorkshire without fancy decoration or comfort. We found it palatial after previous descriptions. George, the owner, was upstairs in his room, and we could hear him wheezing and coughing, poor man. His miserable daughter was loading his cup of cocoa with sleeping pills. George's son-in-law, fat and red faced, with twinkly eyes, sat by a blazing fire, and resembled old Jolyon in 'The Forsyte Saga', or at least the actor who played him on the telly in 1967. He gave us a tour of the ground floor rooms, one not opened since 1958. Mum and Dad were so impressed. I can just imagine them there, discussing sheep with the locals from Pateley Bridge, or wherever.
Home and to bed by 12.
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