Bank Holiday in the Republic of Ireland
Monday mornings come around so very quickly. To the YP where I enthralled them all with tales of Dave Lawson's Ball. Incidents keep coming back into mind. At one point, late on, I was in a bedroom helping a youth thread a needle so that he could re-assemble his torn shirt. Then, in Dave's bedroom I found eight people in his bed, in the dark, discussing re-incarnation. I joined them. I imagine that the house is now demolished. I expect that South Elmsall will see a baby boom in July, 1983.
I spent the day dreaming over my typewriter. Mummy phoned to say Susan is going back to Otley hospital, and then she phoned later to say she had been moved from Otley to Roundhay by ambulance, where the poor girl has had a scan. Mum added that the doctors are 'not happy' with the scan, but didn't elaborate. It certainly looks as though the baby has gone.
Dave L phoned to say we cannot watch his 'pirate copy' of 'E.T' tomorrow because his Mum and Dad are not visiting a sick aunt in hospital until Wednesday. So, Wednesday it is.
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