Tuesday October 26, 1982

 Susie had a gynaecological procedure this afternoon and was out of theatre at 6pm. Mum passed an anxious day and kept me informed throughout. Peter went to see Sue tonight accompanied by Dad and they report that she is chirpy and bright. Mum didn't go because she though it would be too upsetting an experience, and someone had to look after Christopher. Poor Susie. It must all be for the best.

I have been feeling terribly low lately. I blame the YP. I have now outgrown the beastly little library and want something else. Ally and I sat at breakfast bemoaning the fact that we are to be parted all day and want something we can do together. This narrows it down to a pub or a shop. A junk shop like 'Cheap and Cheerful' would be nice. 

Other news: a work colleague of Ally's at Chestnut House has had a large boil on his nose explode. Injections in the bum, and all that. Bed with books.

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Monday October 25, 1982

 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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Sunday October 24, 1982

 20th Sunday after Trinity - British Summer Time Ends - United Nations Day

A short day. Hungover and covered in scratches. I'll talk further about the party tomorrow. Watched Grace Kelly on the telly. Lamb and Yorkshire puddings. Watched 'Star Wars'. The effects are lost on a seven inch black and white tv set. Bed. An early one.

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Saturday October 23, 1982

 Sunshine. Up with the larks. Made our pilgrimage to the market. Feel listless. I followed Ally around like a diabetic Doberman Pincher. Came back in the afternoon and watched the wrestling on TV. I cannot understand how people pay to watch. We had a lasagne. I shaved off my moustache and put on trendy clothes in an attempt to look 18. If Dave L can do it then so can I. Jill and Tim came at 8 and we went to the Woolpack at Rawdon where we met Karen, Steve, Di, and Paul. They are all slimming. On to Dave L's. Ally opened the door and a flying trifle flew past her nose missing it by inches and splattered on the kitchen wall. Breathtaking. Eight or nine youths were making merry pouring beer over each other. ______. A young man with flashed blond hair was romping with a pissed little girl who was swigging from half a bottle of whisky [presumably the other half was inside her]. MM and Marita arrived bringing with them some sanity. Jill went outside [after the fireworks display where I set fire to one of my shoes] and became horribly lost somewhere on Tennyson Street. Inside we were oblivious to her distress, and when she eventually found her way back she wept buckets. Jacq came with a girl called Lynne. I sat with my trousers rolled up to the knees quoting Shakespeare, much to the displeasure of Ally who found my behaviour trying. I fell into a bush and was lifted, bleeding, into the car. Horrid.

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