Thursday June 23, 1983

Ally: peach

 Heavy Rain. Ally went to work in a baggy dress. She was uncomfortable in a skirt yesterday. Pregnancy suits her. She is like a peach and eyes are brighter than ever. She came home at 12:30 and an hour later we walked to Saint Street where she sat in a waiting room full of heavily pregnant women. I stood outside with a rolled umbrella watching a feeble old man trying to park his car in a tiny gap. She came out having seen Sister Matthews, a midwife, who is as broad as she is tall, and pleasant with it. Ally was weighed. She is 8st 5lb. At home I made the dinner and watched John McEnroe shouting and screaming at Wimbledon. Ally phoned Bessie and I phoned Mum at Horton. She says Maria and the children are in Guiseley but everyone in Guiseley has sent Catherine's birthday presents to Scotland. John and Janette are going to Scotland for the weekend. Janette hasn't been back since she left in January.

Ally went to bed at 10 and I watched Sir Robin Day's programme. Norman Beresford Tebbit is a man to watch. I like him and always thinks he talks such sense about trade unions. The ghastly Gwyneth Dunwoody makes my blood boil. 

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