20240103

Friday February 10, 1984

 5, Club St, Lidget Green

Up with the larks and dressed in sombre, sober attire to await the ebullient L. Gledhill. We sat in the bedroom cooing over Samuel until LG arrived at 8:30. We went over to the Moorhouse. LG is such an easy man to get on with. We didn't talk business other than when he says our allocated staff hours will have to be cut. He didn't say by how many. Oh dear. We cannot complain though. I haven't done a day's work since Christmas Eve and I've been on full pay since. We picked up M. Pirie and inspected the deserted pub_______. On with the lisping Pirie to the court where we trudged through a labyrinth of passageways to find court room no. 6. I went into the box and the protection order was granted and we then went to queue with the riff-raff paying their fines to pay the £4 for my licence which took over an hour. It was quite wrong that we should have been made to line up with the rapists, bigamists, and arsonists in this way. L. Gledhill was livid. I said goodbye to him until Monday and walked down to the YP where I saw Betty in photo sales and gave her a 1928 pic of Bessie which I am having copied for Ally. Home for 12:30. 

Sue and Samuel.
On the bus home I opened my Daily Telegraph and gasped in amazement. Harold Macmillan, who is 90 today, has accepted an earldom. How splendid. I suppose the old boy has done it to ensure a place for his son Maurice in the upper house. Is it the first earldom to be created since Avon or Snowdon? One day I feel sure that our beloved PM will be Countess of Finchley, or Countess Thatcher of Grantham. This will solve the problem of what style she will take on accepting the Garter. Dame Margaret Thatcher, KG sounds odd, but the letters KG tagged after a peerage would be fine. All this is in the far distant future anyway. In other news, Yuri Andropov is dead. Kidney disease. Who will succeed? The Ruskies lean towards ageing geriatric leaders for some reason. Bring back the Tsar, that's what I say.

At home Ally was going about with a duster and vacuum cleaner. She then went out to draw her family allowance. We ate fish and chips. Over to Guiseley at 5 o'clock. To Lynn's then Sue's and then back to Lynn's. Sue is so hospitable and normal. Christopher sat on Samuel thinking he was a toy. ________.

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Thursday February 9, 1984

 Waltergarth, Station Rd, Horton-in-Rbblesdale

The Crown, Horton-in-Ribblesdale.
Another sunny day, and warmer. Samuel had a good night and was horribly dirty today. A most unbelievable batch of nappies. We blame the sheep's head broth. The five of us went for a long walk again and pushed the pram for a couple of miles into the hills. So very peaceful. Back in the village for 2 where we sat on a bench outside the Crown Inn for an hour. The pub was barren. As usual the conversation turned to _________. It is now common-place. Mum and Dad agree to come over on Monday to assist at the Moorhouse. Aren't they good? Phoned Les Gledhill who said he will pick me up at 8:30 tomorrow to go to Leeds for my protection order. He's such an amiable fellow. 

Merrily home to Waltergarth for 'luncheon' which we didn't eat until 4pm. Samuel always has hysterics at meal times. We sat before a blazing fire afterwards and then packed the car. Power cut. Fumbled for candles and then said goodbye to Mum and Dad in the flickering twilight. They have loved seeing Samuel. We were back at Club Street within the hour. The power cut stretched down as far as Skipton. We had cups of tea and sprawled. Our tummies are upset. Yesterday's sheep, or today's pig? 

Bed. Peace. Snores.

-=-

Wednesday February 8, 1984

 Waltergarth, Station Rd, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Walking at Horton.
Cold, but brilliant sunshine. Samuel slept until 6:30, excellent. I woke with a thick head and staggered around like a zombie. _____. 'Full English' with Mama and Papa. She is decidedly thinner and is eating less. Both seem content with the life they now lead. Afterwards, wrapped up like sherpas, we set out with the pram and pushed Samuel through Horton and up to (gap in manuscript) and back around to Waltergarth for 2pm. Wonderful, scenic. We all arrived back glowing. All says that recently my eyes look 'weak'. Looking in the mirror I do look old and and eyes are strained with red circles around them. Ally thumbed through the Marshall Ward catalogue and then slept in the chair with Samuel piled on top of her. I read old copies of the Daily Telegraph. viz: The Duke of Beaufort's obit; a Lebabon pull-out; a man has walked in space for the first time without a line connecting him to the spacecraft. 

A roaring coal fire blazed throughout. Samuel didn't settle after his country walk and constantly fed until bedtime. At 5 we ate sheep's head broth and dumplings. This is an ancient Wilson recipe, close to extinction. Mum begged Ally to take the recipe and keep it going because Lynn and Sue don't want to know. Ally is tired out and deadly quiet. Tiredness makes her vicious. We watched the news and then 'Minder' and then more news. The Queen attended the (Duke of Beaufort's) funeral at Badminton this afternoon. It was shown on the BBC news. The new duchess is a daughter of the Marquis of Bath you know. One of the Thynnes. To bed with the 'Dalesman'. I was too tired to look at it. __________.

-=-

Tuesday February 7, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

Got out of bed at 3:18am to find a gale blowing outside and snow falling again. We have only just got rid of the last lot. This isn't all. At 7:30 the house was icy cold and the radiators were cold. Yes, the pilot light had blown out and it's a swine to re-light. We huddled around the gas fire like families did in the cold, far-off days of Mr Heath's premiership when all power was switched off for weeks at a time. I phoned a plumber - Grighton (?) & Wright - then at 9:30 I walked to Toller Lane to see a police inspector about my qualifications regarding the Moorhouse Inn appointment. I signed my name to a sheet of paper and then walked home. Sunshine. Phoned Papa who says the snow at Horton has all but gone. (Ally had phoned Mum earlier and she had said it was Arctic-like and that rockhopper penguins were nesting on Station Rd, &c.). We kept a vigil for the plumber who arrived at 1. It took a blow-lamp to get our pilot light aflame. He ran in with his torch as if he was opening the winter olympics. At 3:30 we headed out to Horton-in-Ribblesdale. The car piled high with luggage. Found Mum and Dad well. Fish for dinner and glasses of beer. They cooed over Samuel and we were pushed quietly into the background. Old photographs came out. To bed at 11-plus. Samuel didn't sleep until after midnight.

-=-

Monday February 6, 1984

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas, &c

Hideous rain. Stayed in bed until 9:30 whilst Ally bedecked Samuel in his finery. He is the Yves St Laurent of the baby world. Breakfasted with Bessie who is much recovered from her 'flu. She thanked us for being such a tonic. She stuffed a £10 note in my hand for Samuel. We left at 12:30 after Bessie had snapped another two dozen photos of 'Matthewel', as she accidentally calls him. For many years Alison and Andrew have also been 'Gralison' and 'Grandrew'. Graham has always been Graham. Favouritism. 

Frank, Bessie and Samuel.
Heavy rain on the journey home. Hit Bradford for 5pm. I unlocked the door and then went down to get a haircut. At the barbers I found a queue of six GPO employees awaiting short back and sides, and like a fool I sat and waited until 7. By the time I hit the chair my hair, bushy and flowing, was now down below my knees. I used my time reading a tatty, warm, thumbed Daily Express. The Duke of Beaufort died yesterday in his 84th year. HM will be beside herself with grief. 'Master' as he was known by the Royal Family, has been Master of the Queen's Horse since 1936, and was the last surviving Knight of the Garter to be been dubbed outside the reign of Elizabeth II. He was of course married to Lady Mary Cambridge, niece of Queen Mary. HM has reigned for 32 years today. President Reagan is 73. The Hon Mark Vestey has been crippled in a hunting accident.In 1976 he married Rosie Clifton, an old flame of the P of W. Thus, I was placed into the barber's chair, in the dead of night, thinking of the coming Badminton Horse Trials without old Beaufort in charge. 

On my arrival home the house was like a scene in downtown Beirut. Ally struggling with Samuel who hadn't stopped wailing since arriving home. I made sandwiches and pots of tea and we looked at some splendid new photos just back from being developed. I have a note from Bradford police to contact them re my occupation of the Moorhouse Inn and I am fixed for an interview at Toller Lane at 9am tomorrow. I phoned Mabel to cancel lunch tomorrow. Auntie with Marlene and Frank plan to come and see us on Friday February 17. We retired to bed at 10, but Samuel wanted none of it and squealed hideously until midnight. ___________.

-=-

Wednesday May 9, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently...