Sunday November 29, 1981

 _. No sooner were we out of bed when a sharp knock at the door heralded the arrival of cousin Jackie and a bundle of apricot fur, supposedly pertaining to be a six week old Poodle pup. We had a few drinks, and I accidentally stood on the yelping fur ball several times, but life was not extinguished. Jackie was here to stay. We watched a vintage Margaret Rutherford film together with glasses of home-brewed sherry, and then Jackie, a district nurse, left at 4:30 to give an insulin injection to a diabetic gentleman. 

Ally and I continued drinking until evening. I taped some music from the radio. Ally compiled a Christmas card list, and we sat, long faced, through a hideous Royal Command Performance.

We have decided to throw a Sunday afternoon Xmas party on December 20. Phoned Mum, Lynn, Sue and Auntie Hilda.

The Borgias, on TV. Rabbit and Yorkshire pudding. Bed at 11.

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Saturday November 28, 1981

 _. Slept until after 11. Then, in a flurry of activity, Ally took a bucket and went out to clean Audrey before setting to work on the windows. It was a cold day. I ventured outside to glue something onto the car that had fallen off during Audrey's lengthy stay at Jack Andrews garage. I almost had to glue back vital extremities which were frozen and close to falling off my person in the Arctic conditions. Watching Ally from the window I realised that all the other elderly residents of Club Street were doing the same. Funny how old ladies spend a lot of time peeping over their potted geraniums through lace curtains.

At 3 we headed into the metropolis to have a sudden, yet successful spend. Bought Sarah a demijohn for her two week wine. Bought Mum Nigel Dempster's 'Princess Margaret: a life Unfulfilled' [for her birthday]. Took a flower painting to be framed. It will cost £22. Bought Ally a diary. Yes, I am to have a rival in the literary field. I suppose it will be very interesting in years to come for us, and indeed you, dear reader, to look back and view two different accounts of our 'goings on'. I find keeping this journal very time consuming, and yet to call a halt and finish would be like severing a limb. It and I are now joined forever.

Home made pizza. 

Began a still life bowl of fruit and wine bottle on a yellow table. Happy with it. 

We watched 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane' with Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Ally, can you believe, had never seen this much viewed so-called spine chiller before. Bed after 1.

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Friday November 27, 1981

 _.It is rumoured that the Princess of Wales is booked into the Lindo Wing at St Mary's Hospital, Paddington, in the second week in June, and under an assumed name. We are told that the Queen has canceled a state visit to Sweden in June because Queen Silvia is expecting a baby, but surely the cancelation is because of a birth closer to home?

YP dismal. 'Mrs Slocombe' is such a crashing snob. I blame the Toxteth riots on Mrs S's attitude to coloured types. Her bigoted ramblings grown worse with every passing day. I have noticed that those who propogate racial discrimination are generally uneducated, ignorant and very small minded.

Terry Fletcher, a YP reporter, followed Shirley Williams around Crosby for two days and says she cannot be matched for her incredible ability to talk to all people from all walks of life. She has, he says, an answer for everything and no journalist there could come any way near to breaking her. Mr Fletcher has returned to Leeds convinced that Mrs Williams will one day be prime minister. I'm not sure. Her appearance lets her down very badly. She is almost a female version of Michael Foot. Just imagine her at the Cenotaph in crumpled orange Crimplene and anorak, her fuzzy hair blowing. Besides, she's a Roman Catholic, and I think we have yet to have an RC PM.

Mushroom soup. Mince, sprouts, dumplings, &c. Mum phoned in a state of great excitement to say that Auntie Mabel has won a Christmas food hamper to the value of £97. I phoned auntie to offer congratulations. Characteristically she says she wept like a baby on receiving the news.

Somebody has offered Ally £240 for Audrey. My God? Thank goodness the weekend is here. We sat until 10 and then bed called.

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Thursday November 26, 1981

 _. Thanksgiving Day, USA.   New Moon.

Last night I shaved off my so-called beard which has adorned my adonis features since Sept-Oct. I have a feeling I last shaved on the morning of Jill and Tim's wedding. As you know I am a feeble grower of facial hair. My legs are like young and vigorous forests, but alas from the waist up I'm a desert.

YP quite pleasant.My two tips to Bob are in today's paper. 

Out at 12 to have a short haircut at Fred's on Boar Lane. I then walked around town killing time and met Ally at 2. We arranged to meet outside a sweet shop and she caught me devouring a packet of Rolos. We went to Kirkgate market and bought a rabbit and enough veg for a harvest festival. We bought JPH a toy in Boots. By 4 it was dark and cold and so we headed for home. 

We had fish and chips and went to Guiseley for 7:30 to see Mummy and Daddy. He is much improved, but cannot return to work for another week. Jim and Margaret arrived at 9, and we left at 11:30. Ally tottered up to bed and I sat and watched the results of the Crosby by-election. Shirley Vivien Teresa Brittain Williams, PC is elected to serve as an SDP MP with a 5,000 majority. In 1979 the Tories held the seat with a 19,000 majority and so it's a major, disastrous juxtaposition. However, a similar phenomenon occurred at Orpington in 1962 when Eric Lubbock [now Lord Avebury] snatched the constituency for the Liberals. Is the SDP here to stay, or is it a flash in the pan? 1984 will reveal all.

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