Sunday January 10, 1982

 1st Sunday after Epiphany

Up at about 10 to hear Dave clomping around in the bedroom singing. They get up ever so early now that Frances is on the scene. We had a large fried breakfast at which I was chief cook. Ally hates frying, and the unpredictable, spitting cooking fat.

The Bakers left at 12:30 to look at a job at Bingley. But first Dave went around the house with a screwdriver. He was under the bed, spreadeagled, adjusting the bolts. He is invaluable to any household. Stuff Black & Decker, I have a Baker.

Afterwards I watched the football on TV and peeled nine and a half pound of Martyr Worthy apples to make seven pints of apple wine. This theraputic exercise took two hours. Ally was upstairs putting bees wax on our Hepplewhite. We are industrious little people.

At 5:30 I watched a late Clark Gable film and then we had steak and kidney pie, or pudding, by candlelight. Last Thursday we gave Mum 'Princess Margaret' by Nigel Dempster, and yesterday Lynn delivered it back for us to read. Mum read it in two days. Spent the day reading about the poor, downtrodden princess. I have always said it was Snowdon who was the first to be 'naughty' in the marriage, and it's refreshing to see him having a spattering of shit for a change. Princess Margaret, we are told, keeps a diary. Now that would make excellent reading, but her writings are not likely to see the light of day in my lifetime.  Bed at 9:45.

-=-

Saturday January 9, 1982

 Full Moon

Sunny, cold, icy. We woke when Lynn phoned. Despite having a cold she and Dave are coming this afternoon.

We made our weekly pilgrimage to John St Market for meat, veg and fish. Home at 3 and Ally had a lasagne bubbling. Lynn and Dave came at 5. [Frances is with Granny at Pine Tops]. We had a few drinks and Dave put the brass handles on our bedroom chest. Blimey, it looks very Hepplewhite now. 

Lynn gave her own highly amusing account of Dave L's annual party. It was a case of 'them and us' with a break-away group gathered in the dining room. Tony Brotherwood, she says, had an engagement party last Saturday.

At 7:30 to the Odeon Cinema to see 'Eye of the Needle'. Poor. After the book it was a great let down. Donald Sutherland played a gawky, gormless 'Needle', and Kate Nelligan the heroine. It cost us £2 each to view the disappointing film. 

Back at 10:30 for lasagne and bed at 12. Lynn and Dave in the bunks.

-=-

Friday January 8, 1982

 Horribly cold again. Snow hindered my arduous journey to the office. Sat on a smoke-filled bus coughing and spluttering with all the regular 40 cig-a-dayers.

YP hideous. Kathleen is so frustrated, we have decided, because she's been sharing a bed with her mother since before Christmas owing to the presence of a dreadful cousin with a heart condition.

Lady Hartwell is dead. The daughter of the brilliant F.E. Smith [Lord Birkenhead] and wife of the Daily Telegraph's proprietor.

Weather news: winter here with a vengeance. In Scotland last night temperatures in some parts fell to minus 27c. The floods in York and Selby have now frozen over and the windsurfing in the Shambles has given way to ice-skating. I know it's a bore to talk about the weather, but the recent blizzards and floods are the worst in living memory and it would be quite wrong for me to ignore them.

The Prince and Princess of Wales are to visit St Gemma's Hospice in Leeds to open a new wing on March 30. I'd like to see Diana in the flesh.

Visited book shops at lunchtime. I'm into Ken Follett at the moment. Home at 6. Bought fish and chips and watched 'The Hound of the Baskerville's' [1939]. Good stuff. 

-=-

Thursday January 7, 1982

 Freezing. Jack Frost does his worst. Ally stayed at home to regain her strength and lounged in bed all morning.  I went off to the YP.

Lord De Clifford, holder of one of England's most ancient peerages [1299 I think] and the last peer to be tried by his peers in the House of Lords [1935], has died aged 74.

Lynn phoned after lunch to say she is now full of cold and postponed our cinema visit by one day to Saturday.

Bumped into Jacq in Leeds and she gave me a 'run down' of Dave L's party. She and Paul will be at Karen's on Jan 30. In town I bought Ally an Agatha Christie novel, just as a new year gift. I phoned her a few times in the afternoon [she had slept all morning] and we whispered and giggled. It's pure love, it really is.

Mum & Dad.

Home at 5. Ally was snuggled down listening to Ella Fitzgerald. We dressed and went over to Guiseley at 7 for a candle-lit dinner with Mum and Dad. They were both pleased with their delayed birthday presents. Dad particularly was in high spirits and is developing his own peculiar eccentricity. Mum was pale and slightly thinner. We left at 11 and drove home in Arctic conditions. Our breath froze on the car windscreen.

-=-

Wednesday January 6, 1982

 Epiphany

The snow supposedly forecast for this week has yet to arrive. Ally was out of bed like a shot mixing scrambled eggs long before I raised my weary head. She is much better today and fortunately her voice didn't go the same way as mine.

YP: continued with the honours list, and made sure I took my time. Kathleen did my EP indexing. The Lord High Constable of Scotland, the Earl of Erroll, has become engaged to Isabelle Hohler. Miss Hohler's cousin Lucinda recently betrothed herself to a Compton of Newby Hall. Lord Cornwallis, who the Daily Telegraph accidentally 'killed off' last September, finally bit the dust on Monday. It must have been disturbing for the old boy reading his own obituary in the broadsheets. Imagine the tea, toast and marmalade splattered everywhere.

It was a year ago this very night, in bed at Pine Tops, that Ally and I decided to marry. It's been a beauitful and satisfying year.

Phoned Mum this afternoon. Her voice so distorted with her cold that I thought I'd phoned the wrong number. We are going tomorrow.

I posted a list of English personal names to Susan. Let's hope she makes the right choice.

Lasagne for dinner. Threw out our Christmas tree and put our balls away for another year. 

Sat and watched 'Hannibal Brooks' [again], eating apples, buns, and chocolates. Well, it is the last day of Christmas.

Splashed in the bath.

-=-

Tuesday January 5, 1982

 Had a restless night because of Ally's indisposition and at 7, we lay sweaty and tired, trying not to listen to Mike Read on Radio 1.

Ally shouldn't have gone into the office, but Derek and Gillian are similarly indisposed. I left her at 7:45 looking drawn and wobbly.

At the office: Kathleen is insane. When I asked whether she had spent a merry Christmas she merely shrugged and said it was so far in the past she couldn't remember. Obviously, they've had a dreadful and busy time without me.

Honours?

I spent the day looking at the New Years Honours list to amend the files. Far from interesting. Those dreadful athletes who went to Moscow against Mrs Thatcher's wishes have been awarded the OBE. Yet another 'U' turn. Sir Charles Forte has been given a life peerage, and the palace press officials come away with DCVOs and KCVOs. I am no as sympathetic to the honours system as I once was. Just reading the small print you come across recipients, such as: 'Evadne Maud, Mrs Jenkins, BEM for services to lawn mowers, West Sussex'. I think it might be more of an honour to be ignored.

I spent some time combing the births, marriages and deaths announced in my absence. Sir Jim Holland, Bt, died on Christmas Day, and Lord Kenilworth died on Boxing Day.

Rain all day. I got a soaking at lunchtime when I went out to buy mince beef at Kirkgate market. It could be worse. Heavy snow is forecast once again, and floods have devastated York. 

Phoned Mum who sounded hideous - full of cold and speaking from her bed. Dad is similarly laid up. Cancel our proposed visit.

Escaped the office at 4:45 because the snow forecast filled me with alarm and despondency. Home at 5:45. We ate our mince speciality and watched 'Picnic at Hanging Rock', a good Australian film about the mysterious disappearance of a party of schoolgirls whilst picnicking in 1900.

Phoned Lynn. We arrange to go see 'Eye of the Needle' with her and Dave at the Bradford Odeon on Friday. Afterwards they'll spend the night here. Frances will be deposited at Guiseley in the capable hands of Granny. David was in one of his soulful moods. Ally dreamt last night that Lynn gave birth to hairy baby called 'Silver'. What could this possibly mean?

Dave Reed phoned to say he and Carol are getting engaged in Middlesbrough on January 16 and are to marry on August 14. 

Listened to Debussy. Bed late.

-=-

Monday January 4, 1982

 Bank Holiday in Scotland

Our alarm clock rang at 6:55.  This is indeed a special treat because it usually wakes us at 6:30. However, after a sleepless and lustful night our energies were taxed to the hilt.

YP abysmal. Spoke to Ally a few times and visited the public library at lunchtime. Phoned Mum at 4:45. She informed me that she believes that Maria is two months pregnant, but this requires clinical confirmation. Nevertheless, it looks like another Rhodes baby in August. John and Maria returned to Scotland today and say they are putting the cottage up for sale and are looking for an old property back in Yorkshire where they can demolish, build and toil for another three years.

I phoned Susie for a pregnancy bulletin. She wants the baby to come now. The child has been kicking furiously inside her for weeks.

Home at 6:15. Ally now full of cold. We went to bed early where now, at 10:03pm, she sleeps beneath the quilt with just a few curls peeping out.

-=-

Sunday January 3, 1982

 2nd Sunday after Christmas

Up at 9:30. We packed the car in sombre mood. Working tomorrow. Bessie packs us up with bottles [in which to brew], apples, food supplies, various plant cuttings from the garden, &c.

We had breakfast and cups of tea and discussed returning for a week May 28-June 6. Said goodbye and left at 11:30.

Andrew: Rocket.

Andrew, who was sleeping in his room, leads a solitary existence and although resident in the same house isn't like a member of the family. He takes irregular meals, comes in and out at irregular hours of the day and night, and in the evenings and at weekends he's closeted in his bedroom with his CB transmitter. His code name is Rocket. He's always covered from head to foot in oil and black leather, but is very pleasant.

Home at 4:30. Tired out. Phoned Mum. They both have heavy colds. They entertained the others at lunchtime yesterday and went to Giovanni's in the evening. I invited myself to Guiseley for dinner on Tuesday.

We stayed up until 12:15 watching Dame Edna at the Royal Alfred Hall [sic] presenting her 'Last Night at the Poms' Show. 

-=-

Saturday January 2, 1982

 Dad is 48 today and dear Mum is 47. I think this might be the first time I have missed seeing them on their joint birthday.

Ally, in a long, blue dressing gown, was up an hour before me in her father's study discussing the ins and outs of joining BUPA, at £8 per week. They decide against. Frank and Bessie went off shopping leaving us sat in the vast kitchen. How good would it be to own a house of such proportions?

Later to Winchester shopping. Then to Southampton shopping where we spent £28 in Habitat on a table lamp and a brass door knob.

Dined tonight with Frank & Bessie. Prawn cocktails, watercress soup, pheasant in red wine, chocolate fudge cake. Delicious. Afterwards we slumped. Bed at 1am. I am feeling better, but Ally is going under now.

-=-

Friday January 1, 1982

 Bank Holiday in UK., Republic of Ireland, USA & Canada

Rectory, Kings Worthy.

Hoarse all day. Frank and Bessie took Ally and I to Chandler's Ford [where we'd left Audrey last night] for the 'Young Dixons' first 'drinks party'. Bessie interjecting some tremendous fun comments. Had a delicious fish paté. Most of the Hampshire guests left at 2:30 and Ally and I sat huddled on a settee for a further three hours. We took Michael and 'Dids' Lynn back to Kings Worthy rectory and then on to Chillandham Cross for the night. We declined Graham's invitation to join him at the Cart and Horses. We must be growing old. Cold ale on cold nights no longer fascinates.

-=-

Thursday December 31, 1981

 Fried breakfast [again]. Joined Graham and Gill at the New Inn at Easton for a lunchtime drink. Had cheese toasties and lungs full of cigarette smoke. Felt horrible. Caught sight of myself in a mirror in the gents and reeled with horror. My features white and baggy. My eyes bloodshot. The general effect is reminiscent of Robert Mitchum, and he must be 67.

On to Graham and Gill's at Chandler's Ford for coffee and back to Chillandham Cross at 5. Had grilled steak and salad. Frank and Bessie went off reluctantly to a Rotary Club dinner dance at 7 - they usually see in the New Year in bed. Bessie told us that when they lived in Wallasey in the 50s they'd lay in bed listening to the ships at Liverpool hooting and booming in celebration of the New Year. Romantic.

Ally & Gill

At 8 we went back to Graham and Gill's at Chandler's Ford. I had a whisky, and Ally had something Italian and wet and we went, the four of us, to Midge and Eugene's hideous pub at Southampton. Ally glorious in her pink tulip frock. The pub was crowded and hot, but at least it was lively. Streamers, silly hats and that sort of thing. Midge, bedecked like the Trafalgar Square Christmas tree, came over and made us feel like VIP guests. Joined by Barbara and Mel. He was very thin, skeletal, and supposedly on the wagon. Barbara planted a kiss of my cheek leaving an impression of her lipstick across my face. She prodded me and said that marriage has turned me into a fat slob. 

Frank, Bessie, me, Ally, Graham.

On at 10 to collect Peter and Dee Lynn. To the deserted Plough Inn at Itchen Abbas. Empty but for a grey old lady throwing darts. The landlord inspected us through narrowed eyes. A dismal place, and tonight especially gruesome. We left and went to the New Inn at Easton. Not much better here. The drunk locals were huddled at one end of the bar and we stood at the other. The landlady, clad in a fur coat, was slumped over the bar bemoaning the fact that her 'after hours' party was in ruins. We decided enough was enough and left at 11:45 and bombed back to Kings Worthy rectory, just in time for the chimes of the clock heralding the New Year. Did the usual 'auld langs ayne' routine. I stood with Dee holding baby Patrick. We drank punch and Bell's whisky.

My voice disappeared completely. Florence gave me spoon after spoon of cough mixture. Much of the conversation was rugby union based. Graham tried to persuade us to visit the nearby fish farm where a wild party hosted by the eccentric Michael Wilkinson-Warburton was in full swing, but Gill and Ally were strongly opposed to the idea.

Back to Chillandham Cross at some fortgotten time.

-=-

-=-

Wednesday December 30, 1981

 Winchester shopping. Feel slightly better, but by no means robust. To Graham and Charlotte's at 8 for dinner. Cats. Bloody cats. The allergy, on top of the cold. Feline hairs, ugh.

Chicken with Brussel sprouts. We had a film show of their Egyptian holiday. Exited in deep fog after 12. Got lost on the drive home. The fog so dense.

-=-

Tuesday December 29, 1981

Bournemouth.

 A fried breakfast. To Bournemouth for the day. Feel horrible. Hot, sweaty. Diabolical throat. It is only to be expected. I'm ill every Christmas. Bought new jeans in the January sales. To our horror, the sale at Habitat doesn't start until January 2. Sod it. Back to Chillandham Cross at 6. Too hot and snotty to eat. Sat talking with Frank and Bessie about the Dixon ancestry. Bed at 12 gasping like a bronchil Spaniel.

Notes:

Alison Mary, my wife, was born at Wallasey, May 21, 1958, the second child and only daughter of Frank Dixon [born Sept 15, 1927] and his wife Bessie Braithwaite [born June 4, 1922]. Frank was the youngest child and only son of the three children of Thomas Dixon, of Colne, Lancashire, and Mary Ellen Dixon [nee Jobling]. Thomas Dixon died in November, 1955, shortly after the birth of his grandson, Graham Dixon, born Nov 3, 1955. Mary Ellen Jobling's family arrived on a barge in Colne from Liverpool. She died in May, 1978, aged 92 [?]. Thomas Dixon had a brother, Ernest, and two sisters, Clara and Ada.

The Braithwaite siblings.

Bessie [yes, Bessie not Elizabeth] is the eldest child of Albert Braithwaite, of Colne, and Nora [nee Birch]. Albert died in January, 1966. Nora died in Oct 1958. Bessie was followed by Joan, Margaret [deceased], Hilda, Allen [the wild only brother]. The Birch family had connections with Hubberholme, and one uncle occupied the George Inn there. But you know how people are. Things get passed from generation to generation and become muddled.

-=-

Monday December 28, 1981

 _.Fog, but passable. Up at 9:30. Ate, then packed, and left for Winchester at 12. A dull journey on the M1 thanks to the fog. Stopped at 2 at the Crossroads Motel at Weedon, Northamptonshire, for scampi and chips and lager. Then back on the road south. We are in holiday spirits - no work for one week, and it was so good to see Ally's glee as she neared her parents home. 

Arrived at Chillandham Cross at 5. Presented Bessie with her flower painting and it seemed to go down well. Bessie was pale, complaining of dizzy spells. Frank, fatter, blamed his increased girth on the Christmas fayre [Graham and Gill came for Christmas dinner].

At 8 the Lynn family came for Christmas drinks. The Rev Matthew and Florence Lynn. Bed at 12 feeling groggy. Sore throat.

-=-

Sunday December 27, 1981

 1st Sunday after Christmas

Had a large breakfast and then managed to get the car to go.Freezing fog and ice. Home to Ash Tree Cottage and plunged into a hot bath and dressed for Sue's Christmas party. Back to Guiseley at 5:30 - thick snow. Joined by Mum and Dad [nearing the end of their festive celebrations, and they left shortly afterwards]. Joined by Karen, Steve, Janet Simon and her betrothed, Lynn, David, a chubby Frances, John, Maria, JPH, Catherine, &c. [Maria took the kids home at 6:30 and didn't return], Hilda, Tony, Jill, Tim, Chippy, Gus, Johnny, Dave L &c. 

Dave L finds the Sandersons compulsive company. He is having his annual 'do' on January 2. We don't think we'll be back from Winchester. I have never missed a Dave Lawson party.I suppose it's a watershed.

We left the party at 9:45 [me complaining severely] in order to have a decent night in bed before our Winchester extravaganza. We took John to Ridgeway. 

To bed pissed. Deep snow.

-=-

Saturday December 26, 1981

 New Moon

Bank Holiday in UK & Republic of Ireland [a day may be given in lieu]

Slept until lunchtime and then had a substantial breakfast with Mum and Dad. No sign of John & Maria today and the four of us sat in peaceful solitude. Watched a Harold Lloyd film and Lassie too [pass the sick pan, Mavis]. Had a large dinner at 6.

The car decided to be awkward and so we spent another night at Pine Tops. Ally was furious and close to tears with rage at Audrey's obstinacy.

Bed at 11:30 to escape Perry Como on the BBC.

-=-

Friday December 25, 1981

The Family.

 Christmas Day

A white Christmas. Sunny and bright. Up at 7:30 with great excitement. Our first Christmas morning together. We sat by the glow of the Christmas tree tearing open presents. Ally gave me a Ella Fitzgerald LP, Givenchy after shave, a bright pullover, undies, socks, artist canvas, a tube of black oil paint. She thought mine romantic. 

Took Mrs Greenwood a large glass of rum. She said she would drink it tonight watching Morecambe and Wise and then roll into bed. Bless her. 

To Guiseley at 12. We were first to arrive and sat with Mum and Dad waiting for the others who came in and blocked out the Queen's Christmas message. Chaos. Pandemonium. Havoc. 

Dad read us Hans Christian Andersen fairy tales. Hilarity.

Mum organised a running buffet once again. It's the only thing that works for so many people. 

Bed at Pine Tops.

-=-

Thursday December 24, 1981

 Christmas Eve. Snow. YP until 12. Central until 2. Home at 3. Burley in Wharfedale at 5.Guiseley at 6. George & Dragon, Apperley Lane at 8. Splendid dinner.

-=-

Wednesday December 23, 1981

 Pay day. Received lots of money. Vast amounts in fact. Went out at lunchtime, sliding across town, looking for gifts for Ally. I bought her a suspender belt and received some odd glances in the process. Bought a record of Debussy's 'Claire de Lune'. Bought a fountain pen because in the New Year Ally is to keep a diary. Yes, a rival diary. It's a wonderful thought because I hate being the solitary commentator on the earth shattering events occurring in 20th century West Yorkshire. Ally's version of life will no doubt be a healthy competitive narrative, don't you think? After all, didn't Wordsworth's life receive the added complement of his sister Dorothy's writings?

-=-

Tuesday December 22, 1981

 You aren't getting much today. In fact you're getting nothing at all. It is the festive season after all.

-=-

Monday December 21, 1981

 To the YP. Back from the YP. God save the YP. Kiss my arse, the YP. 

Ally came to Leeds to deliver a contract and met me at 2pm. We went to Da Mario's for food. I had a panzerotti and she had a lasagne. Mine was brill.

Life would be such fun if Ally worked in Leeds. She went shopping afterwards and picked me up at 5. She managed to get rid of her awkward present buying.

-=-

Sunday December 20, 1981

 4th Sunday in Advent

Thick snow falling throughout. It's OK for the likes of Bing Crosby but he doesn't have to shift the bleedin' stuff, does he? 

We have the table set, the cocktail cherries ready and expect a nil turnout because of the weather but not so. We had a flickering fire, enough booze to sink a ship, and Ally looking like a debutante from the 1950s.

The first guest to arrive was Mary Moore from across the road. She is a splendidly eccentric spinster who tells us that for a bet she once swam across Dover Harbour on Christmas day. It was too cold she says, because she wasn't properly greased. Others arrived. Cousin Jackie was followed by Sarah and Trevor [unbelieveably] and then the family. A real shindig.  Quite perfect. Dad had to dig the car out and he and Mum came with Lynn, Dave and Frances. Jacq & Paul, Karen and Steve, Dave L, Hilda and Tony the last to arrive and the last to leave. 

-=-

Saturday December 19, 1981

Dickensian?

 Deep and crisp and even. Up very early and left Ally clad in her pale blue nightie. Walked to Charlie Brown's at Girlington and bought a car battery costing £24. The walk was something reminiscent of a lunchtime in a Russian labour camp.

A bright, crisp, and almost Dickensian day. Send for Nicholas Nickleby.

Back at Club Street I inserted the new battery and, as if by divine intervention, old Norman from across the road came staggering past and he took an immediate interest in Audrey's spark plugs, and he fiddled around helpfully. He gave life to the hapless vehicle. I am eternally in his debt. How can we thank him? He walked away in the deep snow with a look of my dear Uncle Albert stamped all over him.

Ally and I to Morrison's. Spend a king's ransom on party food. On to Lazenby's at 11pm. [Tony] Harney was violently sick and collapsed in the bathroom. Otherwise a quiet party. Home at 2am.

-=-

Friday December 18, 1981

 Snow abounds. Christiana Ross was born this day in 1865. To the YP as usual. I have yet to make editor.

Audrey wouldn't start and so we resolved to buy a new car battery tomorrow. We sat watching TV quite calmly knowing full well that we are about to wave goodbye to £22.

-=-

Thursday December 17, 1981

 Went into town at lunch to buy presents for Ally. Blue gloves from C & A and a bottle of Christian Dior's 'Diorissimo' which cost £11.50. 

We intended going out tonight to buy food for our Christmas party, but we couldn't dig the car out to go to Morrison's. The battery is flat [again], and the snow doesn't help. We sat with long faces grumpily eating fish and chips.

Ally has received a Christmas card from the Pinders addressed to Miss Alison Dixon.

-=-

Wednesday December 16, 1981

 Snow and Poland. Little else.

The snow delayed my journey and I didn't get home until 7:45pm. Coronation Street was in full swing when I fell through the door blue with cold and shaking with rage. I had been stood outside the YP for an hour, and the temperature on the clock there proclaimed 21F.

Club St or Gstaad?

For the first time in many years the River Aire has frozen in Leeds. Some say that it last froze over in 1963, and you always get one who throws in 1947. I certainly never remember anything quite like it.

We dined on spaghetti. She was worried about me. I've never been so late home. Not like _____ who only returns home to his wife when the pub closes.

Dad phoned asking for his car battery charger. His car is having trouble now. No way can we dig out the car and drive over. Club Street looks like Gstaad.

After thawing in front of the TV we retired to bed.

-=-

Tuesday December 15, 1981

Wichita Lineman.

 A slight thaw in the day, but deep snow lays. Infuriating day at the YP. Kathleen is insane. She constantly hums and sings Glen Campbell's 'Wichita Lineman'. It slowly irritates.

Slipped and slid across town at lunchtime to buy minced beef for dinner. Must have looked like Robin Cousins.

At 3:30 Kathleen announced that the weather was taking a turn for the worse and gave us leave to quit the office early. I left in the company of Roy Holland, who drove me home in his little sports vehicle. He came in for a pee, and, like most people, expressed his approval of our humble home. I am very proud of it, and stood, nose in the air, like Lord Hertford amidst his Grinling Gibbons.

Christmas cards behind the door. Eight in all. Ate mince beef, Yorkshire puddings and pancakes. Sat on our cushions relaxing I heard Mrs Greenwood knocking on the wall. Rushing round thinking something was wrong she was struggling to light her gas oven. It lit for me. 

Watched dismal 'Brideshead [Revisited]. 

News: The Queen, caught by the snow, was forced to seek refuge in a two-star hotel near Bristol for seven hours on Sunday. Poland is in a poor way. Brezhnev will go in at Christmas.

-=-

Monday December 14, 1981

 Deep snow which blocked most of the local roads. I'm sitting at Club Street. An eerie silence from the road outside which is usually packed with vehicles.

Up at 6:30. Ally walked to the AHA. No buses, so I phoned Margot to give the YP a miss. Sarah phoned later, just to check up on me. Susan phoned for all the gossip from Stockport.

Club Street.

I went next door to see Ethel Greenwood,who was sitting in a chair next to her bed.She was delighted to see someone. Her son Sammy cannot visit because of the snow. She gave me 'six shillings' to buy her a loaf of bread, and asked me to make her bed, which I did gladly. She does repeat herself a lot, but she's very good for 93. 

My snow-clearing was buried beneath fresh snowfall, and a thick blanket was spread over Lidget Green by the time Ally came in. 

We had a disagreement about opening Auntie Elsie's Christmas present, and quarrelled for a few hours. It's depressing to fall out, and a rarity these days.

My wife has given me a beautiful Christmas card. _________.

To bed with hot chocolate. The news is dominated by Poland. Such a bore. Switched off the TV and went to bed with Stanley Baldwin. I suppose it's work for me tomorrow.

-=-

Sunday December 13, 1981

 3rd Sunday in Advent

Hangover. Billy gave me two Phensic tablets. Sat after eggs and bacon with the Sunday newspapers. The flat is too hot.

Mottram Towers.

Went to the Hollywood for 12 and then to the Robin Hood at 1. The usual troup. Dave, Billy, Garry, Steve, Ally and I. Drank like fish. Ally gave Dave a demonstration of how to play darts properly. The others played pool. Me, a Rhodes, played nothing. I have never had leanings in that direction. Ally drinking Tia Maria. Christmas must be here. Back to Billy's flat at 3 for a silly afternoon drinking watching the snow swirl around the Stockport tower blocks. Later we watched a two hour film of the recent royal wedding. They aren't what you'd call royalists in Stockport. Garry, swilling his tinned beer muttering: 'She's too good for him. She's too good for him.'

Dave's grandad fell over in the snow this afternoon cutting his head. Dave, worried about this, left with the lads at 4:30. We had roast pork with Brussel sprouts which had been on the boil on and off since 9:30am. Worrying about the snow we left at 5:30. I think Billy enjoyed having us. His 82 year-old mum has gone to live with a daughter leaving him free to entertain.

Treacherous drive home.The M62 was almost blocked by driving snow and we crawled and slid at 20MPH by many stranded vehicles. Unbelievable that Audrey made it. Arrived at Bradford at 8:30. Phoned Dave and Mum. Billy phoned later from the Armoury. He is incredible for 42, with the energy of an 18 year-old. Exhausted. We ate cheese toasties, drank hot chocolate, and retired to bed at 9:55pm.

-=-

Saturday December 12, 1981

 A bright, clear morning, but frosty. Installed the car battery at 8am after porridge and toast. Amazingly, the car burst into action and roared like a lion. We hurriedly packed, dressed, and head for the M62 to Stockport just after 10. A bad journey. Ice on the windscreen. Near Stockport we ran into thick fog. We got to the Hollywood just after 11:30.

We found the Hollywood refurbished and filled with jungle-style plants giving the whole place an atmosphere reminiscent of Kew Gardens, or perhaps the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.

Poor Lily was in the bar with her relief manager looking tired and pale and dressed in black. It is wrong to avoid talking about death and so later in the dining room we talked about Jim with Dave, Lily and Grandad. I don't think I have ever heard little Grandad Glynn speak so much. I suppose he is in a state of shock. Lily is being very brave.

Joined by the lads. We went to the Robin Hood and afterwards to a video hire shop and took out Jack Nicholson's 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'. We sat back at the Hollywood for a couple of hours viewing.

To Steak Kebabs at Didsbury at 7:30. A excellent dinner. Lily sat between Ally and Dave. Others in attendance were Billy, Garry, Steve, Anne [the mother of the proprietress of the Robin Hood]. Billy did nothing embarrassing, thanks to the presence of the ladies. 

At 10 we returned to the Hollywood for a wild session which continued until after 2. Ally and I spent £22 on the dinner [2lb T-bone steaks]. I gave myself a blister cutting through the meat. We had the usual community singing - Billy performed a duet with Anne. He is so funny and never fails to have everybody in hysterics.

Afterwards it was back to Billy's flat at 61 Mottram Towers, on the sixth floor. A multi-storey greenhouse. Billy stripped down to his underpants.

-=-