Monday February 14, 1983

 Valentine's Day

(Sickly Valentine slushy stuff)

We arrived home from our daily labours to discover a calamity. Ally had left a pack of lamb's liver on her desk at Chestnut House and subsequently our evening fayre was severely compromised. Fish and chips from over the road proved conciliatory. Ally knows that with fish and chips I am easily appeased. No need to go to ACAS. We watched the news and Peter O'Toole in something called 'Masada'. A good old Roman epic. Ally disappeared to bed at 9:20 and I went up to join her after a few more crucifixions.

Her Majesty has gone off to Jamaica, the Cayman Islands, USA, &c. Some of our Caribbean friends, it seems, would like independence from the Crown, but the sight of the flag waving natives doesn't seem to verify this.

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Sunday February 13, 1983

 Quinquagesima.  New Moon.

We woke up at 8:30 to the sound of a full blooded party going on. Lynn and Dave went off home. The queue for bacon sandwiches looked like something from the Warsaw Ghetto. All the overnight guests seemed to leave in a hurry. Poor Auntie Mabel had slept in an armchair and Mum had shared a bed with the pregnant Karen. Mum and Dad looked after the babies and we head to the Crown for lunch with Jim and Margaret. John and Janette followed but sat in the other bar. The chicken was greasy and cold. We signed Mum's visitors book at 3 and departed for Bradford - all listless and sombre. We left Mum and Dad by a roaring fire. As soon as we were in it was straight to bed.

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Saturday February 12, 1983

 Up with the larks and inspect the snow-capped Pen-y-ghent from the kitchen window. Bacon and eggs in the kitchen full of overall clad workmen and tottering babies. Christopher and Frances look so like twins. 'Where are the stairs?' asked Franny. 

Afterwards Ally, Lynn, Frances, Sue, Pete, Christopher and I went for a walk into the village. We peered over the bridge and debated whether we were looking down at the River Ribble. Dad told me it was the Cam. One I've never heard of. We bought jelly babies (male ones, because you get more) and a couple of bottles of lemonade from the village store and walked back to Waltergarth. I am so happy that Mum and Dad have found the right place.

John and Janette climbed out of bed at 12 and we walked down to the Crown for drinkies. Ally told them of our forthcoming interview next Wednesday. Lynn and Dave didn't join us. He was sorting out the chimney so that we can have a fire in the grate tonight. We sat by the fire, in Wellington boots, and the usual raucous banter ensued in the way it always does when Susie is present. Back to the house at 3.

Mabel, Marlene, Frank [bearded], Mark and Debbie arrived. Auntie took me on one side and asked who the mysterious young lady is. I told her she's John's girlfriend. I just got a look. Jim, Margaret, Hilda, Tony, Karen, Steve, Tim, Jill, Diane, and Paul arrived. Waltergarth is the ideal sort of house for a party. The sort of place Ayckbourn could stage one of his farces in. We drifted around the rooms in varying degrees of intoxication and some bright spark suggested going off to the pub - the Crown - and so we all went down the village on shifts, because of the numerous babies. Ally did something odd with her neck during the siege of the bridge as we ran to the pub, and she stood by the fire with a crème de menthe looking pained. It's hard to write an account of an event when one has blurred recollections of the events which took place. I remember talking to Marlene. The rest is a blur. I accidentally bit Ally's finger whilst nibbling her sandwich, and evicted the snoozing Janette from a bed to put Ally therein.

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Friday February 11, 1983

 The ususal sort of day one would expect to have at the YP. Kathleen didn't mention my proposed redundancy but I take that to mean she doesn't want to throw Sarah into a trauma.

Phoned Ally. We are excited about the Horton weekend. Home, in daylight, at 5. We had a baked potato. I burned my mouth. Saw Pavarotti on 'Nationwide'.

John and Miss Drysdale came at 8 and we drove to Horton-in-Ribblesdale. Janette doesn't feel well and blames the damp flat. They wake up dripping wet in the mornings. We're at Waltergarth for 9 and have a guided tour. The place isn't as dilapidated as I was expecting. Mum and Dad are thrilled and beaming about everything. The others are assembled. Lynn has a haircut like Ally's. Baby Katie bigger. Sue thriving and on good form. We had bowls of stew and light refreshment and pile in the sitting room (formerly a bedroom) with a 30s tiled fireplace. We were all tired and far from the riotous crowd of yesteryear. Janette looked far from well. We talked with Mum, Dad and John about double glazing the whole house. Everest want £10,000. A disgrace.

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