Monday October 15, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Phoned Horton and spoke to my prodigal parents. Ally has to go to the brewery next week on a food hygiene course and I asked them to come here and babysit. They have no news really. The girls have been up the dales. Lynn had stayed for a night last week when Dave was in Scotland. It's a bit of a mystery to me why the telephone has gone out of fashion in Horton-in-Ribblesdale. They don't ring to enquire whether Samuel has teeth, or 'O' Levels or the Military Cross. Very sad. 

As I've said we have bought Samuel a baby-walker which he tootles around in at great speed. He now goes from house plant to plant tearing off leaves and cramming them into his mouth like a panda with bamboo shoots.

Pool match night. Vicky Pearson came in looking like Sue Ellen  from 'Dallas' with back-combed hair and a micro-skirt. It will all end in tears. Maureen, virtually crippled, was driven home by Ally at 11. To bed with books. Jack Higgins again.

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Sunday October 14, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

17th Sunday after Trinity

An early start because today we are visiting the dear Glynn's of Stockport. It took hours of preparation t get the Rhodes bandwagon on the road and we didn't depart until 11:45. It was a fine morning however and our journey was comfortable. Samuel was resless though and I had to clown around and entertain him in the car.

The Hollywood, Edgeley.

To Stockport for 1pm. It is as if time stands still. Dave G just the same. Samuel sat in the vast lounge bar for two hours whilst we drank. Joined by Billy, Garry and Steve later. Dave sees the lads twice a week or so, not every night as in days of yore. At 3 we all dined together and then went upstairs, a traditional routine. Lily went off to bed. We left at 6, and were in bed by 8:30.

Prince Henry, one month old today, is pictured in the Sunday papers. I found myself looking more at the lad's mother. The princess has changed. Gone is that girl-like hair-do and a more sophisticated woman looks out. The caption says 'Diana's Dynasty'. Quite apt. 

Arrivals: a son to Lord and Lady Brocket.

Departures: Alan Lake, the bereaved hubby of the late Diana Dors has blown his brains out with a shotgun. Lord St Just, who is heirless, is dead.

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