Tuesday September 18, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Ally is impossible at times. She bangs around and carries on like one of those maniacal, black African generals after a successful coup d'etat. Samuel and I sat wide-eyed over breakfast listening to her rumblings. Dray day. X-L crisps, &c. I was utterly done in so much so that at 5:30 Ally went below to do the first bash and no doubt let off steam and vitriol on the OAPs in the tap room. I went down at 8 and tried to phone Horton. No reply. Rob (Piper) came in with Brenda Longbottom's husband again. He cannot understand why I do not have any little 'fiddles' on the go. He says that on my barrelage I should be making £30 a week for myself. I really do not want to be sacked. It just isn't my style. They sold me a watch for £1.50. A large black, rubber Jacques Cousteau digital time piece. What a fool I am.

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Monday September 17, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

As you can see I have discovered a bottle of Quink ink. It cost me 75p. Horribly wet. Samuel woke me at 6 o'clock and I found him upside down in his cot with his head crushed between the bars. He soon brightened on seeing me and I removed his soggy nappy and gave him a bottle of milk in our bed. Ally was refusing to get up. She regretted it later and ran around.  We went to Leeds market and the bank, &c. Bessie phoned on the subject of our forthcoming holiday again. It sounded as though she has been tossing and turning all night long. What a women. Felt exhausted. 

The Daily Telegraph is full of the new prince. I do like Henry. So solid. Will he be christened on the Prince of Wales's birthday (Nov 14)? Godparents? Lord Tollemache? A Parker Bowles? 'Kanga' Tryon? (not a hope), one of the Herberts of Highclere? Harry Herbert even? Sarah Armstrong-Jones?

Ally slept with Samuel this afternoon and I looked in at the devastation in the kitchen and closed the door. I am not very methodical. We all had tea together and watched 'Blue Peter' and then I wernt down to spend the night in my bustling pub. A pool knock-out. Karma Singh won. Big Brian had spent the weekend at Ribblehead. Ally made delicious food for the pool guys - it was much appreciated. to bed at 11:55.

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Sunday September 16, 1984

 13th Sunday after Trinity

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

I was up at 7am cleaning the deep fat fryer and roasting a chicken for luncheon.

One year ago today we went to the Why Not? Praise be to God for our safe deliverance. Over porridge (again) at breakfast we speculated as to what names the infant prince will be given. You might not believe this but I said that Henry goes very well with William, and I can see the princess (Diana) calling her son "Harry". Ally went down to clean and I entertained Samuel with his toys. I heard on the radio that the Prince of Wales with Prince William had visited St Mary's and that the baby is probably going home this afternoon. The TV reveals that the baby is to be Henry Charles Albert David, but known as 'Harry' to the family. Very pleased. The last royal Henry was HM's uncle, the Duke of Gloucester (1900-74). You cannot beat old names. I really should have placed a bet at William Hills. At 2;25 the royal couple left the Lindo Wing with a white bundle and drove to Kensington Palace. An hour later the prince drove off to play polo. I suppose Di was tucked up in bed.

We had chicken for lunch. ______. Later Bessie phoned and put Ally in a foul mood regarding our holiday plans. They are going to Windermere on Oct 29 for three or four days apparently. Grumpily to bed.

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