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Saturday January 22, 1983

 Bright and sunny. We had breakfast at 10 and left Mum and Dad washing up whilst we took a bus to the interchange and had our photos taken in a rabbit hutch for our brewery application. 

At 12 we went with Mum and Dad in the Renault to Settle. Only an hours drive. We had a few drinks in a pub there and then went to Fred's (a dingy bar full of people straight out of the job centre). We drank and watched the 2:30 (race) from Kempton Park, and staggered out to look at the antique shops afterwards. Mum bought an old jug for 25p. She's like Christina Onassis at times. They took us on to Horton-in-Ribblesdale but it was growing dark. I was impressed by my first view of Waltergarth, and feel sure that they'll love the place. Horton is smaller than I expected and the bungalow nestles in a hollow close to the river. They are pleased as Punch with the place.

At 5:30 we went on to the posh Royal Hotel in Settle - mock Jacobean - for basket meals. The staff seem obsessed with us and every time we look up from our baskets we see them talking about us. Mum laughed and commented that alcoholics always suffer from paranoia. Dad and I had rabbit pie, Ally scampi, and Mum steak and kidney pie. Left at 8:30 all jolly and contented. Back for 9:30. Terry Wogan was interviewing the refreshing Cilla Black. Ally went up to bed, but in the middle of the night she leapt from bed and was violently sick in the bathroom. Poor darling. I suspect that the sinister bar staff at the Royal Hotel have slipped her something horrid.

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Saturday May 19, 1984

A warm, gentle day. Ally and I took off to town with Samuel at 1pm. We didn't take the pram and I carried baby for two hours, by the end...