Sunday November 13, 1983

 24th Sunday after Trinity

Remembrance Sunday

Ally is sweet. We switched on the TV whilst having breakfast and her eyes filled with tears at the sight of the ex-servicemen parading past the Cenotaph in Whitehall. The Prince of Wales laid the Queen's wreath because she is Kenya at the Sagana Lodge where she had learned she had succeeded to the throne in 1952. It is exactly 50 years to the day since the last Prince of Wales deputised for the sovereign. Horrible afternoon. The beer pumps stopped flowing and I couldn't locate the fault. I managed to stay calm. The rabble had to drink bottled beer and thereby cleared some of the old, slow-selling stock. The two hours at lunch flew. I spent much of the time in the cellar trying to sort the problem. I thought it wise not to tell Ally of the crisis. She was oblivious upstairs. At 3 I joined my wife for a roast chicken. Afterwards we sat in bed. She marvels at my ability to do three things at once, i.e. talk to her, read the Daily Telegraph and at the same time watch the 1950s epic 'Alexander the Great' starring a 19 year-old Richard Burton. Slept then until 6pm. Quiet night. The maniac female Joyce tore down the curtains in the back bar. I blame our very strong Cider Reserve. To bed.

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