YP until after 2.The New Years Honours list published. Nothing spectacular. The lower ones all seem to be water authority chairmen or old ladies who have worked in a Glamorgan canteen since 1914. I wouldn't touch an honour with a barge pole, except for the Garter.
Ally came running down the path after me and bundled me into a car with Mr Taylor and Patricia from the AHA. We went to a fuddle at Chestnut House. Other peoples offices are strange places.
Home at 5 sozzled. Fish and chips. Frantic arranging. Sue and Pete were first in at 8 followed by Patricia and Marcus, Dave L (looking like the 'principal boy' from 'Dick Whittington' in tight trousers and very long suede boots). MM and Marita. Poor Marita is bandaged and yet looks splendid in what looks like an Emanuel gown. To the Coach House. Joined there by Karen, Steve, Jill, Tim, Jacq, Lynne (Jacq's friend), David & Jean Watts, &c. I'll hand it to the Coach House, it was an excellent atmosphere. Balloons, party hats, loud music. We were all thrown into a state of festive euphoria. I had a secret ballot among the revellers which resulted in our return to Ash Tree Cottage on foot at 11:30. The streets were full of drunken people hurrying home to 'see in' the New Year. Cars were driving past us horns a tooting. I supplied everyone with a glass of something gripping and we took up our positions. At a few minutes to 12 we locked MM outside (one has to be tall and dark to fill this role) and we heard the chimes of Big Ben down the air waves courtesy of Radio One. 'Auld Langs Ayne'.
We formed a conga line and danced out of the house, down the street, and in to Mary's, and then further down the street and back to ours having collected some neighbours, including Mary, into the chain on the way. One of Mary's friends, Rose, a comely Mrs Mills type, seated herself at our piano and banged out old tunes for over an hour. We stood around singing like the Vienna Boys' Choir. Mary attempted a Charleston and fell over and required assistance back to her place. Food magic. Music magic.
Everything went off remarkably well. It was one of our better parties. So good having MM and Marita with us. She always says that to see a Rhodes on New Years Eve brings good fortune in the coming year. New comers to our house express admiration for our interior design ability. I don't they say this just to be nice and for something to say. It happens far too often.
This was our first New Year party at Bradford. MM says that when George Orwell wrote '1984' he hadn't taken Margaret Thatcher into account. I couldn't agree more. We both agree that Mrs T will win the next general election when it comes.
Di and Paul didn't come. Paul has had a fracas with Tim. __________. Sue was all in black and thank God is back to her old self. Her face has given up that sickly look which I found terrifying.
Dave L had his usual dance with Steve and then slipped into a coma on the settee. He later found his way up to bed complaining he was feeling sick. All went home except Dave L, Karen and Steve. The Sandersons slept in a sleeping bag downstairs.
Ally and I went up to bed at 5am on January 1, 1983, feeling happy and moderately sober. God give us 70 more New Years.
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