Sent for an oasis continental quilt. The so-called TUC 'Day of Action' which I did my very best to ignore. I walked to the interchange at 8 and caught a 72 bus coming out hotly pursued by picketing transport workers carrying ridiculous banners. The YP [and EP] editorial staff had almost a full turn out, but the damage was done because no newspapers were published today.
I sat reading the nationals from yesterday. Princess Grace is to be buried beneath a marble slab shortly. She is still lying aroud unburied. Prince William of Wales has had his first whooping cough vaccination. Half the population of the Lebanon is murdering the other half, and I cannot understand why. Foreign policy has never been my strong point. The Swedish government has fallen. But that is all yesterday's news.
Strolled out at luncheon. Leeds didn't appear to be suffering because of the nation-wide strike, but then I do tend to walk around unseeing. Kathleen gave us wine.
Home by train at my usual time and walked from the city centre to my dwelling to find my wife cooking dinner. Corn on the cob and Shepherd's Pie. Marriage is the greatest joy obtainable under the heavens I suspect. Sat laughing at Cyril Smith MP. He's a big, fat Liberal. Ally is furious about Arthur Scargill, and stood ironing scorning his childishness.
We went to bed at 10:30 and sat talking about a winter holiday. It looks like Lanzarote in December. I will have to write to John and Sheila first.
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