Saturday December 3, 1983

 Red Lion, Thornton Road, Four Lane Ends, Bradford 8

Bright and sunny but we didn't get chance to go out and wallow in the autumn sunshine. One cannot be a fresh air fiend in this game. However, I am looking forward to scaling Pen-y-ghent with Papa. I have been dreaming about rats or mice. What can this mean in my subconscious? A clever pyschologist has published a book saying that to dream of a roller skating bishop signifies ones inner desire to campaign for the ordaination of women priests. I went to buy coal from the guy next door. The young salesman looks like Boy George. Ally wearing her now tight pink nightie made porridge. _______. Saturday actually feels like a Saturday at the Red Lion. Ally points out that the customers actually treat it like a pub and not like a second home as they did in Hemlington. The pub (here) is set to be demolished in 1986 when the traffic lights outside are to make way for a massive roundabout. So sad. Sam Smiths have chosen a new site close by but new pubs are hateful and lacking in character. A quiet night. Jean and Rita worked from 8 and so I had an hour upstairs. Ally sneaked home this evening to collect some cash from the 'Clemmie Fund' which we are going to bag and bank. In April we had £60.16. Susan phoned and asked if we can pick them up from Pamela's tomorrow. Rebecca is being christened and we can see them all after the ceremonial. I argued with a youth who was trying to buy some under age girls lager. The were given Coca Cola but I was far from happy. Upstairs at 12 after messing with the till that was mangling the till roll. 

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