Good Friday
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
In days of old I complained , nay played hell, about the archaic licensing laws on this Holy day. Not now.
It was a quiet afternoon. A dead loss in fact. Bright and sunny though and at 2:30 we drove over to Guiseley and collected Sue, Peter and Christopher. She had a rabbit casserole and Yorkshire puddings on the table. She is big (pregnant big) but not like two years ago and is set in her mind that she is having a girl. I do hope so. Another troublesome lad would be hopeless. Christopher is becoming Peter's double. We had a few drinks with the Nasons but didn't go daft and at some reasonable hour we went upstairs for coffee. Poor Susie is like a whale. Undecided about names. They like the name James, hate Benjamin, and Samantha is high on the list.
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