Wednesday June 15, 1983

Bournemouth.

 Ally climbed out of bed in a vile mood and banged around for the morning taking chunks out of me and poor Bessie. After breakfast I made twenty profiteroles, much to Bessie's amusement and Ally's chagrin, and by 11 they we standing in splendour oozing with whipped cream and chocolate sauce upon a wire tray. I took Ally out to stop her attacking her mother (verbally). She is so vicious at times. We went off in B's car to Winchester to collect photographs of baby Matthew. Ally then suggested Bournemouth, and off we went at about 80MPH down the by-pass. We were only half an hour away and we parked on the sea front and strolled along the crowded promenade and laughed at the flabby ladies in their beach huts drinking tea on Calor gas stoves and looking superior. We had another ploughman's at another Berni Inn and sat under an umbrella in a car park full of workmen. 

On the lawn: June 15th

Read the Daily Telegraph. Bernard Weatherill is the new Speaker of the House of Commons. The PM asked Pym to stand but he declined telling her that the office of speaker is not in the gift of the prime minister. Quite right. We went to lay on the beach next to a fat couple listening to the radio. Ally, in her blue and white stripes, resembled a deckchair. At 4 we went back to Winchester to avoid the crush of day trippers, and got back in 50 minutes. In the garden with Bessie, who had me messing with a hose pipe. We dined on steak pie.

-=-