Sunday July 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

7th Sunday after Trinity

Sue is 26. We went to Guiseley for a barbecue luncheon. Blustery. Went with John to Menston to collect some home brewed barley wine which proved fatal. Dad seems to have aged and seemed quite lost. Sue was very reflective and talked of her last birthday with Mum. The children all played so well together. Back to the Moorhouse for 5pm. Sam was put to bed. Hilda came at 7, late. We sped to the Fox & Hounds and found Dad, Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave ordering. A good dinner spoiled by Lynn who who told us she fell out with Dad this afternoon when he arrived at their placed from Susan's pissed and "blubbering." He has every right to 'blubber', surely? The hideous manageress at the Fox refused to take a cheque for £80. To the White Cross all over-intoxicated. Back at 12. Hilda and Tony speak such sense. Dad will manage, but it is early days.

-=-

Saturday July 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally was done in all day because of our late night. She says she wished our relations could only realise that we need sleep and go home at a decent hour. I should, she says, throw them out earlier. At  3:30, feeling decidedly weak, I went out with Samuel to Grandways and bought fish in sauce in plastic bags which seems to be our regular Saturday nosh these days.

-=-

Friday July 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Tried to phone Janette all day without success. Spoke to her at 2pm. She has been abed and was waiting for John to return at 3 and then he would take her to Leeds. Later she phoned to say a midwife was with her and she is going to the Clarendon Wing by ambulance. Things seem to be coming to a head.

Dad has arrived home. He phoned. As he prophesised the Welsh leave a lot be to be desired. John called in at 8 after visiting Janette, who is now on a glucose drip. Hilda, Tony, Jill and Tim came in, and all made merry. June brought in a Brussels sprout pie. Very busy. Ally worked with Margaret M. I did nothing. They all stayed until after 1am. __________.

-=-

Thursday July 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dull, overcast, &c. Samuel fell out of bed with a bump in the middle of the night and Ally rescued him. This morning he ran in, like Steve Cram, clutching his blue elephant. By 9:30 all our little jobs were done and Sam and I walked up Dewsbury Rd. It's Pancrack Day. I saw most of our customers queuing at the post office. We bought chocolate buttons and ate them on the way back. Janette phoned to say she might be in the early stages of labour. Ally ordered her to go immediately to the Clarendon Wing but when I phoned John at 8 Janette answered and reported that she was calmly watching 'Top of the Pops'. Ally was livid. Sue is feeling better. A 'flu bug. Margaret is looking after the Nason 'terrorists'. Dad has phoned Janette and has decided to venture homeward tomorrow to be around for the birth. I am looking forward to seeing him.

Pancrack: This phrase is slang for being on the dole or in receipt of social security benefits. It is believed that "on the pan crack" originates from the coal mining areas of Yorkshire. 

-=-

Wednesday July 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Day off. Dawn chorus, &c. We went out at 9 to pay MM £62 for Samuel's mattress. They were having a day off and so we spoke to MM's Dad. A pleasant man. We went to Guiseley to take flowers to the cemetery. We haven't taken flowers since the funeral. It was awful. Desolate. Dead flowers on the grave from Dad's last visit. Samuel was interested with desecrating a neighbouring grave with marble chippings. To Sue's. We found Margaret N looking after the children and Susan was in bed  looking bright, but running a temperature and feeling weak and wobbly. She complained that she hadn't seen a doctor and so Ally phoned the surgery and ordered him to attend. She may just have a chill, but coming so soon after recent gynaecological problems Ally felt a doctor was required. We went on to Bradford before the doctor appeared to see David Gaunt at Appleyard's. We agreed to buy the Maestro for £3,995, and they are going to take Mandy Metro in part exchange for £1,800. We can accept delivery of the vehicle next Thursday. Chuffed. On to Club St. We took Sam for a walk in the park but he fought the idea of sleeping. I had fish and chips and Ally went for her hair doing. 'Mad' Norman has been in our garden tearing up the flowers. We have a new neighbour called Gladys. Phoned Susie. The doctor says she has a touch of 'flu and has been ordered to stay in bed for a few days. To Bradford. Bought Susan a vase for her birthday. Heavy rain. ______. Ally mislaid her Barclaycard and so we re-traced our steps to Appleyard's and found it in the possession of Mr Gaunt. Town was busy and the traffic hideous. Samuel squealed on the way home. Evening off. Ally set fire to the top kitchen burning mince. Booby Ewing died in 'Dallas'.

-=-

Tuesday July 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We had a rough passage through the hours of darkness with Samuel who kept us awake until dawn. Ally ended up sleeping with him in his room. At 7:15 Sam and I had boiled eggs whilst Ally slept for another hour. Breakfast TV: President Reagan was operated on for a cancerous polyp on Saturday but stands a fifty per cent chance of making a full recovery they say. However, if I was George Bush I'd start packing my bags. 

Ally went off Maestro-watching at 1pm leaving me. Sam in his bed, and I with cook in the kitchen. A quiet lunch really. I have borrowed a crate of barley wine from the Station pub. Tim is on holiday from there and a slovenly relief manager was propping up the bar.

Maureen was sobbing into her mop bucket this morning. Carol and Sam have split it seems and he has run home to his mum and Carol has landed at the McNicol residence with baby Teresa. Such a pity. People seem to give up so easily. Marriage has to be fought for and worked at. Some people do not realise this is the case.

John and Janette met Ally on (illegible) Canal Rd and looked at an A registered Maesto. £3,900. One or two bruises but they'll be fixed on purchase. John seemed happy. I saw the car at 4:15, but you know me. A car is a car. Engines leave me cold. I cannot tell a spark plug from a contraceptive. 

Ally tired and washed out again. Very pale. Janet worked. Very quiet. Ally remained upstairs.

Jack Collett told me that on June 10 this year he celebrated 20 years as a bigamist.

-=-

Monday July 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Phoned Donna Lea early to discuss the missing diet pils but she was in the middle of a choking fit and not giving me her undivided attention. She did say that they are 'looking into it' at their end. She asked me whether I went down into the cellar with the 'two Ronnies' on June 13. I told her that our car had just been pranged outside on Admiral St and that sadly I hadn't. 

The Moorhouse Inn.

We have a postcard from Papa in Tenby. I do miss him. He seems to have been away for ages. Sue phoned. We are going (to Guiseley) on Sunday night to celebrate her 26th (birthday). Later, Ally took Samuel to Guiseley and he came back looking like a coalface worker. I think Christopher is a bit of a tease. Ally called in at Albert Farnell's garage in Guiseley re the purchase of a Maestro. Nothing doing. She also called at Appleyard's on Manningham Lane and saw a car. _______. Phoned Hilda and asked her to (baby)sit for Samuel on Sunday. She seemed very pleased to be of some use. 

Tonight I drank a few diet pils with Jack Collett. In the lounge bar Harold Wilkinson was celebrating his 74th birthday and June had baked a large, sticky blue and silver cake. Pleasant evening. Ally washed out. Bed. Read Henry VIII.

-=-

Sunday July 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

6th Sunday after Trinity

The Maestro.

We overslept. Ally wanted to go to Linfood, but we were too late. Margaret returned from Blackpool. It was a quiet lunch. This afternoon we went out to look at Maestro cars. We nipped out at 4pm yesterday too to do likewise, but forgot to mention it. Car salesmen? Aren't they the lowest form of life? Something from the primeval swamp. We cannot be conned. They must think we look stupid. Today however we did look almost like Romany types. Ally with her T-shirt hanging out. Very Sir Robert Geldof GCVO, PC, in fact. Samuel was a handful to say the least and he kicked and screamed on garage forecourts and I had difficulty looking at any of the vehicles. Ally knows what she is doing. Frank will have to be consulted re a loan.

Roast beef at 5pm. Ally cried watching a slushy film about ice-skaters who fall in love. 

A very busy last hour in the bars tonight. Me and Gary. Ally upstairs. Ran out of OBB at 10pm. This also occurred on June 30. Dear me, what a hopeless manager I am.

-=-

Saturday July 13, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We thought Margaret M was due back from Blackpool today, but she cannot start work until tomorrow. I phoned Gary and he came in at 12 looking weary. He blames the sex. "I never thought I'd say no to a bird, but last night I couldn't manage any more. I just had to sleep." Young Booth is 21, with no feeling, care or sensitivity. Perhaps he'll change one day when the right 'bird' comes along.

Fret about the stocktake. Even the Why Not at it's blackest wasn't as bad as this. To be ripped off and know that you can do little about it is dreadful.

Clapton at Live Aid.

Live Aid. Have you heard of it? Gangs of pop stars queuing up at Wembley Stadium and simultaneously in Philadelphia singing to raise a possible £50m for Ethiopia. Live TV coverage from this morning until 4am tomorrow. Bob Geldof is the pushing force. Perhaps I should say Bob Geldof, OBE, though the honour does seem inadequate for master minding this event. People get the OBE for mucking out toilets. Perhaps Bob Geldof, CH? Quiet in the pub. Marjorie worked. What a nattering barmaid she is. We watched Eric Clapton at 1am and then went to bed. Samuel slept for the first time in his own single bed. Thunder at 4am and the patter of tiny footsteps put paid to that and he appeared in our room for a cuddle. Already by 2am he'd fallen out of bed and we found him underneath in a crouched position. Angel he is.

-=-

Friday July 12, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Horrific day. Stocktake at 10:30. We accept these events as routine and do not worry about them. The Why Not pub days are gone. But aarrgghh. ... We had a £300 defecit today. Gallons of Diet Pils are missing. The equivalent of five 9 gallon casks. Some sick joke, surely? We suspect Ron Brooks. Were the containers full when he returned them on June 13? Which ever way you look at it I am in deep shit. It's the sack probably. We cannot accept that a member of staff is giving away the lager from under our noses. No, it's Ron Brooks or a thieving dray team. I am angered to Hell. Our evening ruined. I spoke to Donna (Lea) who put on her serious voice, but isn't remotely Fran O'Brien-ish. The annoying thing is that it makes us look like crooks. The deficit also comes off my 1986 bonus. What an evil blow. The stocktaker is going to see Ronnie Simpson today and ask him to recal his visit here on the morning of June 13 with R. Brooks in the cellar. It's futile now. The deficit is £357.62. Ugh.

John was saying last night that private health care had done nothing for Mum and she might as well have been 'done' on the NHS. This is not so. For the few remaining months she had she was at ease with Mr Hall, and Armitage. She never endured a public hospital ward surrounded by hysterectomies. That could not be contemplated.

-=-

Thursday July 11, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Uncle Peter called in for lunch. I gave him a pint and a bowl of pie and peas. He says that when Dad phoned him to tell him that Mum had died he just sat down on his stairs and sobbed his heart out. Julie is to marry Steven Dean (?) in August 1986. Off he went boisterous as ever at 1:30. 

This evening we made a pilgrimage to Sam Smith's brewery. 32 of us. John and Janette came at 5:30, and Marlene followed at 6 but Samuel refused to go to bed , and squealed like a scrubbed pig. Ally didn't like leaving poor Marlene with our naughty son. All to Tadcaster by coach (£50) and to the Angel & White Horse. It was a brewery excursion lasting an hour or so followed by samples, free ones, in the cellars. In the cellar Janette explained that she'd spoken to someone at the Clarendon Wing who told her that the baby can take the surname Rhodes, if the father agrees. It was back up to the Angel after looking at wooden barrels. Good food. Saw Ronnie Simpson with a broken arm received playing cricket. Home at 11:30 after much merriment. Sat with Marlene, John and Janette. A few drinks. Bed very late. Ally did the tills as we sat and watched. We squabbled about the NHS, and the chatter turned to Mum.

-=-

Wednesday July 10, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Hilda phoned. We went to Pudsey and had a sandwich with Rob (at the Butcher's). We went by bus (Samuel's first taste of public transport. The car is away until tomorrow morning), and we walked from the Butcher's Arms to St James's Crescent. Sam enjoyed his afternoon. Coffee at Wilsby. Jill was with Hilda looking close to confinement. Sam played in the garden there. So many generations have played on that sloping lawn. Back for 5:30. Janette phoned. She came out of hospital on Monday. We are the last to know.

-=-

Tuesday July 9, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Me and a rusting Mandy.

MM & Marita came at 5:30 with Samuel's mattress. We sat at the lounge bar swilling lager until 10:45. The Matthewses talk of buying a nine bedroom hotel at Scarborough for £90,000. This seems reasonable. They are driving a Maestro. Ally wants one. Our car, Mandy, is very old now. She is an X-reg and is beginning to rust. She will have to go. Karen Hudson suggests I take my test in my own vehicle, but the (mini) metro is too pokey and box-like. I'd prefer to be in Karen's. Besides, Mandy's speedo has packed in. All this mechanical talk must be stunning you after years of silence on the subject of our transport. Janet worked. To bed pissed. Goodnight.

-=-

Monday July 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Very warm. Went driving at 4:30. I went for it like a bull at a gate. She (Karen H) is forever asking me to slow down.

Ally went to see Janette who told her she might be out of hospital tonight. We expected John, but he didn't appear. 

Phoned Ken Gilbertson to finalise our remaining holidays for '85. We are taking twelve days from September 19 and a week from November 21. No plans about destinations as yet. 

The decorators are booked for next week to do the outside work. MM & Marita are bringing Samuel's single mattress tomorrow at 5:30.

Graham J. Dixon appeared at 5:30 and Ally brought Sam down to see his uncle. He stayed an hour before bombing off to see Anthony.

-=-

Sunday July 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

5th Sunday after Trinity

Warm. Very Busy. Bruce Springsteen was singing at Roundhay Park and we had a few concert goers in our midst at luncheon. How they found us God only knows. He has a large following, so they say (Springsteen that is, not God). I am not one of them. I cannot name a single thing he has 'crooned'. Come back Al Bowlly, all is forgiven.

John appeared at 2pm with JPH and Catherine. Ally and I did the lunchtime session without staff and managed well. J fixed a leaking pipe and then they went to see Janette. We had roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, &c. Samuel is fatter of late. He has the appetite of a small bear.

Dad phoned from Tenby. Pleasantly surprised with the place. He took himself off for a pub crawl on his own.

-=-

Saturday July 6, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Warm. Sun. Dad has gone to Wales with Lynn, David, Chris B and Julie B. I was late up at 8am watering my hanging baskets. Splashed in the tub afterwards. Ally and Samuel left and went to Club St, Linfood, &c. From 10:30am I worked. Marjorie came in, grumpy, and told me she cannot work tomorrow but will do if I insist upon it. She complained about not receiving a rota last week. I told her to have the lunch session off. We can manage. _________. Ally yesterday had a fracas with Teri, the cook, over some trifle, and it looks like we'll be on the hunt for a new assistant next week. Teri said she doesn't like Ally's attitude! _________.

-=-

Friday July 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

I now have a hanging basket watering ritual to go through on a daily basis. Hose pipe trailing everywhere. Sam is attempting sentences: "Go down now", "Go see Katie". Dad appeared at 12 . Looking pale. He'd had a two hour drive from Horton. He had a car full of flowers. He gave Ally and enormous bunch, and is taking the rest of them to to cemetery later. He said that Hilda and Tony's visit had been horribly weepy ....___________. 

We had lasagne. Dad, looking forlorn, said he isn't looking forward to his Welsh sojourn. Lynn has banned him from taking bottles of 'home brew' to the caravan citing lack of space. The headstone will be ready for August. The mason is posting Dad a photo of the memorial before it is erected because seeing the lettering can be distressing. 

Janette has been re-admitted to the Clarendon Wing. She went in at 6:30pm yesterday after having had a good telling off from Mr Glass. She is now resigned to it. Ally and Dad went to visit her 3-4pm. I relaxed listening to Santana's 'Abraxas'.__________. 

It was a busy evening again. The third consecutive day of taking over £400. John came here at 8:30 after seeing Janette and stayed until 1am. We stood in the tap room. It's his usual night for going out with Chris and Peter M but they leave for the Lake District tomorrow. Later watched a Hammer horror. To bed. __________.

-=-

Thursday July 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Independence Day USA

Very hot. We erected hanging baskets. Ally took Sam over to Guiseley for the afternoon to see Lynn & Co before their Tenby extravaganza. All the babies played in the nude with buckets of water. Samuel delights in the companionship of other children, especially Katie. His eyes light up at the mention of her name. I spent the afternoon in the flat, stripped to the waist, eating quiche and watching the tennis on our panoramic screen. Ally was back at 5pm with a 'nappy-less' but soggy Sam. Full of fun. Very busy downstairs. None stop from 5:30. If only we could be similarly employed every night. 

Princess Michael of Kent is in hospital in a collapsed state. Some evil rag is suggesting that HRH is having an affair with a Dallas oilman. Prince Michael is 43 today.

-=-

Wednesday July 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Hilda phoned me at 11am to give an account of last night's visit to Waltergarth. It was very weepy she says. All Mum's remaining clothes have gone to Pudsey and Lilian Gaunt is now the possessor of Mum's finest gowns. Tony was so drunk that they had to stay the night, a boozy affair.

Naughty Janette discharged herself from hospital and returned to Menston against the advice of her doctors. She is a wilful girl. Susan is under the impression that Mr Glass has given Janette the 'all clear' but when Ally phoned the Clarendon Wing a nurse expressed surprise that 'Miss Drysdale' was leaving. Confusion. John had to leave the Tay site at Yeadon to collect his wailing mistress.

We had an evening off upstairs, and lay in our bedroom after watching 'Dallas'. The noise rising up from the tap room below was awful. Dogs, hysterical women, breaking wood and glass, &c. And yet, a peaceful evening.

Tuesday July 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Full Moon

Hot day. That brat of a tennis star has been knocked out of Wimbledon. What's his name? We went to see Janette at the Clarendon Wing. Leeds is horrible in the heat. Hilda and Tony are visiting Waltergarth this evening. On Saturday we received a wedding invitation for Diane & Paul's nuptials on August 31. Nobody else in the family have yet to receive one. We suspect that Hilda doesn't know John or Susan's address. We have a visit to the brewery on July 11. Must ring Marlene to grab Debbie for babysitting.

Lunches here have fallen off. Nobody eats. We take £5 on average these days when before Mary Theresa Collinson's appointment to the kitchen £20 was more the norm. 

-=-

Monday July 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Di Wales is 24. The worst June weather since the turn of the century, they're saying. It's bound to be a scorcher next week when Lynn goes to Tenby. She always has it tropical. Lynn phoned to say that Janette is in the Clarendon Wing after some twinges over the weekend. We went with Samuel to visit our would-be-sister-in-law . She looked perfectly well to me, but is awaiting a scan and is under the famous consultant, Mr Glass. Ally went back to see her at 7 and met John there. He only found out at 6:30 when a neighbour went over and reported that Janette had been carried off in an ambulance. He had been working on his kitchen. They drove back to the Moorhouse at 8, and John came in for 'one' drink and stayed until 2am in the tap room. Ally played pool. We had a good chat. John is squeamish about being present for the birth of his next child. I strongly suggested he must be there, and he chewed it over. Ally says I should not try and persuade him and that the decision must be his. It's a highly personal decision. Glynnie phoned at a late hour. The Hollywood is doing a roaring trade. It's the first time I have spoken to him since I phoned him about Mum. 

-=-

Sunday June 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

4th Sunday after Trinity

John, Sheila, Me & Sam, Dad, Janet, Arnold.

Early start. We got to Horton for 10:30. Dull, overcast. Dad, John, Sheila, Arnold and Janet were having breakfast together. We joined them for coffee laced with whisky. We discussed Ruth Upton's birth certificate. ________. My Uncle John bronzed and handsome as ever. Very 1950s Hollywood. Uncle Arnold is a deep sort of chap, peculiarly likeable. They all refer to him as 'Our Bill' for some reason, The brothers would all make very good MPs. Great orators. We walked to the newsagents and both Dad and John came out with a Sunday Telegraph. At Waltergarth we had lashings of wine and a late dinner, three chickens in fact. It was odd and disconcerting seeing Sheila and Janet pottering in the kitchen with Mum's things. Lynn, David, Thomas and Katie appeared (Frances was at a kid's party). (Uncle) John has always been obsessed with Lynn. He idolises her. Samuel did a lot of showing off. Lynn left at 6, followed by Arnold and Janet at 9. We sat chatting until 11. The wine left me with an enormous headache. (Uncle) John going on the rampage about the British banking system. 

-=-

Saturday June 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mr Humphrey Smith married Miss Julia Gladstone today and we were surprised to receive an invitation from his mother 'Mrs Geoffrey Smith and the Directors of Sam. Smith's' for lunch at the family home at Oxton Hall, Tadcaster, on July 24, to celebrate this great dynastic occurrence. It is so good of the company to do this. That is what is so good about working for a family business. So personal, &c.  Tonight we 'taped' 'Dysentery' (as I call the series Dynasty). It is the last episode until September. Blake Carrington's dad has died in Indonesia. To bed with books. I am plodding through 'George V'. Very entertaining. Didn't phone Dad because he is entertaining his brothers in Settle.

-=-

Friday June 28, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

A man from DER brought us a video machine for us to play with over the weekend. Not that we'll have much chance. We watched our wedding video which was a jolt. Mum's bright "Hello Darling, it's Grannie" (to Catherine) is now the only known recording of her voice. Phoned Dad. He went back to Horton yesterday afternoon. He called at Hanson's, the stonemason, en route. The headstone will take six weeks. John and Sheila have phoned to confirm they will be visiting him tomorrow. Arnold & Janet too. _______.

-=-

Thursday June 27, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Our fourth wedding anniversary. Shock, horror. We exchanged cards in bed. No personal presents were swapped because the plethora of pine and the tv set is going to be our gift to each other. We live in grand surroundings now. Ally wants Laura Ashley festoon blinds hanging in the bedroom, but they'll cost £150 and the things will not transfer from the Moorhouse if and when we leave. Sceptical. Messed around until late. We went to Guiseley at 12 via a florist where we bought Sue a spray. At Thorpe Lane we found them tucking in to lunch. Poor Sue has heavy eyes and looks washed out. She only escaped from hospital at 10am. Lynn and her bronzed infants appeared and we went out into the garden and Grandpa Rhodes provided wheelbarrow rides for a wild, hysterical bunch of children. A make-shift tea party on the lawn followed. Goose pimples galore. Home to the pub exhausted at 8 after a couple of hours at Lynn's.

-=-

Wednesday June 26, 1985

Moorhouse Inn

Susan had a scan at the hospital (Otley?) and as she suspected something is wrong, but it isn't a reappearance of the hydatiform mole. It seems that the tiny baby has died in the womb. Off she went with Dad to the Clarendon Wing this afternoon _________. Peter visited this evening. We are going to Guiseley tomorrow. Benjamin is one. 

St Giles.

A very large TV appeared from DER. We are having it on trial for a few days. We sat watching 'Dallas' open mouthed, wide eyed,  and bushy tailed at the glorious , breath-taking splash of colour. 

Quiet downstairs. Phoned Donna Lea re my cloudy ale. I have nothing to hide. Unlike my ale, my conscience is clear. She will visit and take samples, &c. 

Did I ever mention that Saint Giles was a cripple? Well, he was.

-=-
 

Tuesday June 25, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

I feel down in the dumps. Worrying about my Old Brewery Bitter. Is it really up to scratch? Colin Black's words are ringing in my ears: "If you are not happy with it for God's sake return it". This I have done, and now my cellar is spartan. 

Dad went back to Guiseley to see Susan. He is going to help out until she has her pregnancy confirmed or quashed. ________. Dad is going to Wales with Lynn and Dave. Two weeks in Tenby isn't my idea of fun. Poor Dad forgot his luggage when he came for the weekend and so he borrowed John's things. Hw went away today wearing one of my old shirts. 

Our chairman (Humphrey Smith) marries on Saturday up in Dumfriesshire. All the managers gave a £1 at the managers meeting for a joint present to the boss and his bride. Leslie Gledhill joked about my suit saying he could have one made from my lapels alone. I set fashion I do not follow it.

Revoltingly quiet this evening. Just Janet. She needs motivating. Ally fumes because the girl stands around, arms folded, doing nowt. But we can only be responsible for that.

-=-

Monday June 24, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dad came over in the afternoon from Guiseley looking better than he did yesterday. He's so lost though. Mum always provided such gaiety. Will Dad ever get that sparkle back? Dad says Susan isn't at all well and is having a scan on Wednesday. Is it a reappearance of a hydatiform mole? She has been passing blood &c, and describes the discharge as 'stringy'. Dad does worry. We had a few pints and looked at headstones (again). The choice was finally made. 

The Angel & White Horse

We went to Tadcaster at 5:15 leaving Dad to bath Samuel and to put him to bed. At Taddy it was a large gathering of pub managers in the brewery canteen. To our surprise Chris Wills appeared. He accused the brewery of diluting his ale at source before he received it. We are told we are to have a seven per cent pay rise. Can't complain. Afterwards to the Angel (and White Horse). I felt pissed drinking beer. Found myself talking to the landlord of the Norman at Normanton. The brewery wives always look so brassy, you know typical landlady types. My wife is so fresh, young and so very uncommon. Saw LG and C. Black. Very relaxed. To Horsforth afterwards. I was drunk as a skunk. The 'Inside Out' or 'Outside Inn' or whatever you call it was shut. On to Jacomelli's. Steak, &c. Ally not too pleased about the dinner. Home at 11. David was watching Billy Joel on the telly. We have spent our bonus on a tv cabinet (pine), bed for Sam (pine) and a chest of drawers for Sam (pine).

-=-

Sunday June 23, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

3rd Sunday after Trinity

Catherine Elizabeth Mary is 6. Ally woke very grumpy. She gets over tired. I went to get Samuel some breakfast and we played with his toys. I could hear Anne, our aged cleaner, banging away below. I presumed it must be Anne. For all I know it might be Myra Hindley. 

The Sunday Telegraph was smeared in strawberry jam. I suppose it's the price one pays for having children. Samuel's talking is coming along great guns. He can now speak numerous words and will have a go at anything. Mummy is still a difficult one. Dull, overcast sort of day. Over to Menston (to see our niece on her birthday) via the cemetery at 3:30. David has nailed a large name plate into Mum's grave. "N.Rhodes" in large black letters like a car number plate. I muttered a few words to the occupant below. To Leathley Crescent. It was full of children, all the grandchildren except Hannah. Lynn and Dave organised party games - they seem to have a forte for it. I sat in the kitchen thumbing through a catalogue of headstones. How very ghastly and bizarre Lynn and John suggested we 'buy the cheapest', but that was never Mum's idea of how to carry on. I selected one, not too flash, but reasonably priced. We returned home after 5, very jaded. Together my family is a daunting bunch. Dad's eyes were like piss holes in the snow. He'd been out on the tiles with John & Janette last night. Very busy evening. Gary in.

-=-

Saturday June 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Paul Edwards is 21 today. Ally and Samuel went to Morrison's at 11 and I stood around in the pub which was dead, very much like Scholemoor cemetery. The TV was blaring in the tap room. Old Jim and George were watching a 1963 film about the Spanish Armada starring Christopher Lee. When Margaret came in to work I went off and made some cheese on toast. Jack Collett, in his corner, was having trouble with a crossword. 'Saint Giles was one' is the clue and it is C _ _ _ P _E. Was St Giles a cripple? or perhaps a 'clippie'? He has a cathedral named after him in Edinburgh, if that helps. Mind you, we could have several saints answering to Giles. I do wish I had my Brewer's with me.

Ally came back at 1pm. Very animated. She has visited our pine dealer. Yes, she has found a TV and video cabinet for £220. I squealed with delight. It looks as though I am getting the 'go ahead' at last. She has bought Samuel a pine frame for a single bed (£55). Bang goes the bonus from the brewery. Did I ever tell you about my bonus? I wasn't expecting one. Donna Lea always has such a long face, but she appeared and told us of our good fortune yesterday. I cannot say exactly how much but it is worth double my monthly salary. 

This afternoon Ally took me to look at the Tv cabinet - superb. We then went to Valance's and Schofield's looking at TVs and videos. Just looking.

Phoned Lynn. They have been looking for mirrors. Big gilt framed ones. Quiet evening. Margaret worked both sessions today.

Bed at 12 with 'George V'. Ally thumbing through baby magazines. She is grumpy about something.

-=-

Friday June 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Longest Day

Wet. Served no lunches. Well, perhaps two toasties. Abysmal. And to think we pay a kitchen assistant £20 a week. 

Game Cock Inn.

Dad phoned at 7:30pm to say he was going out for a walk so I wouldn't worry if I phoned Waltergarth and received no answer. Uncle Arnold joined him for lunch today. They went to the Game Cock Inn at Austwick. John and Sheila are back in the country and Dad has invited them to Waltergarth next weekend. Arnold will be going too and Dad is thinking about taking them to the Little House restaurant in Settle. A good idea. _________________. 

Busy night. I sat in the tap room. Ally worked with Gary until 10. Edna is back on form. Her laugh is so very infectious. Mavis Adams is now a regular. Funny, but she never came in when Archie was here.

Later, watched Joan Collins in 'The Bitch'. Dreadful.

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Thursday June 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Our day off until 5:30pm. We slept late and then dashed to Club St for 10am. A warm, sunny day. I pottered in the garden. Sam followed me indiscriminately tearing up the shrubs and flowers, and he took the occasional painful tumble on the uneven pathway. Upstairs I viewed the bedroom for the first time since Mum vacated it on May 6. ________. I took Samuel out for a walk in his pushchair and to Scholemoor cemetery to assess the tombstones. I fancy white marble. Mum wouldn't have wanted anything 'flash'. Ally went to Linfood for eggs and cheese. We returned to the pub quite knackered at 5. 

Janet phoned at 7:55 to say she has an upset tummy and wont be coming to work and so Ally and I did the evening session alone. We had a good time really._________. To bed with 'George V' by Kenneth Rose. Very perplexed about His Majesty's abandonment of Tsar Nicholas in 1917. We'll never know the full tale.

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Wednesday June 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mum and Dad's 31st wedding anniversary. I woke at 7:15 to hear Samuel bawling. I went to him and he was sat in his cot pointing at the lump in the double bed in the corner of his room. It was of course the recumbent form of his sleeping grandfather. We left the room without waking the old man. We had bacon sandwiches at 9. A relaxed affair. We didn't mention the anniversary. What can we possibly say? Lynn phoned at 9:30. They are going to the cemetery together at 3 with flowers and then Dad is going on alone to Horton calling first at a stonemason in Ilkley. 

Later Dad took Samuel out to the park. He looked such a dot in his red T-shirt. He came back exhausted, and by lunchtime the baby was worn out. Dad left at 2. I gave him some words for Mr Hanson (stonemason) :-

"Sacred to the Memory of NORA, beloved wife of Lawrence Rhodes, born 2 Jan 1935 died 18 May 1985." 

At 7 Dad phoned to say he has collected a tomb stone brochure. Prices vary from £250 to £2000. He insisted that my words are used because nowadays it isn't the done thing to include the date of birth on the stone and that the age at death is the norm. I want it included because Mum and Dad have the same birthday, and one day, without being morbid, it will make a poignant feature to the memorial. He said the cemetery was a depressing sight. Both he and Lynn had a good weep. They laid flowers and placed a wooden marker on the grave. He is alone tonight. His boiler is knackered again.

Our night off. A marble topped chest arrived today. We rearranged the sitting room to accommodate it. A domestic pub-free evening. Retired at 11:55pm.

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Tuesday June 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Waterloo Day. Royal Ascot, &c. Garter processions. Peerage news: a certain Mr Patrick Hope-Johnstone is claiming the dormant earldom of Annandale & Hartfell this week. He's a scion of Lord Linlithgow's family. Lady Camilla Fane, a former so-called 'possible bride' for the Prince of Wales, has become engaged to a Mr Hipwood. Her Papa (Lord Westmorland) is Master of the Horse. 

We had a visit over luncheon from Rob and Ryan Piper. They sat in the lounge and we discussed the Red Lion Watering of the Beer Scandal. He tells me that L. Gledhill is coming back as our area manager. That must account for his visit last week. Ally brought Samuel down to the bar to play with Ryan. Sam was more interested in Ben Rycroft's walking stick. Rob left at 2. We sat with a lager. Dad came in looking tired and pale. When staying with Lynn she gets him out of bed at 7:15 and calls it a 'lie in'. We had rabbit pie for lunch. This evening we sat with Werner, the little POW from Cologne, and Dad talked to him about his days as a military policeman in Hamburg and Hanover. It was the first time I had heard some of the stories. Upstairs at 11 for coffee and large sandwiches.

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Monday June 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

The Bakers.

I went driving with Karen H at 9. My first lesson in a month. I do need some practice, not just my weekly £6.50 jaunts. My test is in nine weeks. Dad, staying with Lynn, set out walking into Guiseley with Katie, supposedly to settle his bill with the undertaker, but she became hysterical in the bank, and she walked around Guiseley wailing uncontrollably, his task unfulfilled. The poor Baker girls are forbidden to sleep in the day, and Dad blames this lack of sleep, the exhaustion, on their violent tempers. He received his police insurance money for Mum today (£1700). He has increased his own cover by £1000 taking it to £5000. It matures when he is 60 (in 1994) when it will have to be transferred. I am named as his executor or beneficiary. He can only name one. Jack Denison's bill was remarkable. We expected it to be £1000, but he charged just over £500. Dad says he chose that particular undertaker because, as a policeman, he has observed him at work and says he has always found him a 'gentleman' behind the scenes treating his corpses always with the greatest respect. Some undertakers must be appalling and slapdash.

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Sunday June 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

2nd Sunday after Trinity

Father's Day

The £1: still tucked in the journal pages.

Samuel gave a card and a crumpled £1 note. I might save it forever. I certainly cannot buy anything of value with it. At first I thought Ally had forgotten but after breakfast, made by me incidentally, I found the little envelope tucked behind the telephone. 

To John's at Menston. Then to Guiseley. Janette was just getting up and both had forgotten we were expected. ____. Catherine has had a severe haircut. On to Sue's. They were sitting down to lunch. Dad was there and we gave him a card, but left after half an hour. I sprawled on the floor clutching an apricot wine feeling quite miserable. Sue and Pete had been to the cemetery and the sight of mud and dead flowers broke her up so much so that she says she doesn't ever want to return. Dad says this is the problem with burials. People, he says, feel as though they should visit and then feel guilty when they don't. Dad asks me to decide upon the wording to go on the headstone.  A busy night. Just Gary and I. Ally stayed above.

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Saturday June 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

The official birthday of HM. Honours, Trooping the Colour, &c. I have taken little interest in the activities of our dear Queen this year. Everything overshadowed by domestic events. This morning I couldn't be bothered listening to Tom Fleming going on and on broadcasting from Horse Guards Parade. HM was on the news earlier this week unveiling a Falklands war memorial at St Paul's.

No real bombshells in the birthday honours list. Most of the victims from last October's Brighton bomb tragedy have collected gongs. Bob Mellish is a peer, and a poet from Hull becomes a Companion of Honour. Nothing for me. 

Ally and Samuel went to Club St to weed the garden. I haven't been inside since Mum left the place. Ally did a lot of shopping afterwards. Four weeks since Mum died. Dad will be on top of Ingleborough with John this afternoon. 

Jill and Tim came in at 9 o'clock and we drank with them until almost 2am. Ally regrets such late nights as she takes days to catch up on her sleep and recover. I had alcohol. I have been drinking only minerals at the Moorhouse. Watching my weight, and there's nothing worse than a pissed up publican.

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Friday June 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

A cellar service man called in from the brewery at lunchtime and reported that Chris and Elaine Wills have just been fired for returning a cask of Old Brewery Bitter to Tadcaster which contained 20 per cent water. Silly bugger. It must be a very recent sacking because they were at the Gaston Ladies Darts final on Wednesday, where our own Vicky Pearson was defeated. Only Jim Precious accompanied her. The Moorhouse has never been very 'sporty'. A busy lunch. Teri (the cook) needs some motivation. No menus on the blackboards were displayed in our absence and a pound of three week old roast beef crawled out of the fridge to greet us this morning. It was positively green. Oh dear.

Dave L is 30 today. He will not enjoy this anniversary. It might not complement his Mohican hairstyle and trendy image. I sent him a postcard of the Ribble Head viaduct as a birthday greeting. He ceased from sending greeting cards some years ago. He is my oldest friend. Eighteen years, in fact.

A busy pm. Much merry-making in the tap room. A festive air in fact. A slow-witted old woman consumed about a dozen 'snowballs' demolishing almost a bottle of Advocaat. Yuk. 

We are now going all out to produce another baby in '86. God willing. Samuel really needs a playmate. Susan has seen a doc who says she is due on January 1st. Dad jokes that the baby could come any time before next Easter. Sue is always way out with dates. _______.

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Thursday June 13, 1985

 Waltergarth

A fine morning. We had to be up at 6:30 to prepare for our journey home. Ally had a bath and then made breakfast. Dad looked sad. What will he do with himself when we are gone and he is left alone? We drove off just after 8am. To Leeds for 9:30. As we drove down Admiral Street a bloody van threw itself into reverse and backed into us denting the number plate. Ally's first bump in a decade. The attitude of the van driver was frustrating. He explained he could not be liable because "you can't expect me to see a little mini metro out of the back of this thing". He looked at Ally and sneered: "women drivers". Offensive bastard. Ron Brooks, the stock-taker, escaped as we arrived. He was going to the Butcher's Arms at Pudsey and then returned to us to do a print-out of the stock at lunchtime. A £10 surplus. The place was a general mess. Someone has scratched their initials into our polished mahogany table. The beer cellar looked like Hiroshima. We are told that L. Gledhill and Colin Black were here snooping around yesterday. Coming home after a holiday is the worst aspect of pub life. Totally disorientated. The customers and staff singing the praises of the relief manager. "He had everyone out for ten past eleven", &c. He doesn't have customers he wants to keep a hold of though, does he? A relief manager is free to be a Mussolini. I have to be slightly more sensitive. An atrociously quiet evening. Phoned Dad. He seemed lost.

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Wednesday June 12, 1985

 Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Bright, but wet. We went with Dad to Hawes. Beautiful countryside. We walked around the village looking a pub menus. Samuel toddled along with his grandad. We went into a pub - the name escapes me - and we had rabbit pie. Samuel had an enormous sausage which looked to be raw in the middle. Pink. Driving back to Ribblehead we had a burst tyre. Dad found the spare and changed it. Later, Dad, Sam and I played in the garden. Dad blowing down a large tube, an old water pipe, making noises reminiscent of those similar to the ones made by Sir Rolf Harris, that ancient Australian musician. Samuel then played with a spade digging holes on the drive. He got very wet, and cold too. Tonight we just sat with mushroom soup watching TV. Mum's homemade soup out of the freezer, made last autumn. Dad then ate the last piece of fruit cake that Mum had made. We watched 'Dallas' and went to bed early. Well, 11pm. Dad was better this evening. News: The Waleses attended the new (James) Bond premiere, but we didn't bother watching.

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Tuesday June 11, 1985

 Waltergarth

Awful weather. We sat at Waltergarth by a blazing fire. Mum saved old newspapers and I went through them clipping out the relevant items. Birth announcements, engagements, weddings, &c. It was easier to do than I imagined. Ally doesn't feel guilty going through Mum's possessions. Mum would have wanted us to do it. Afterwards, when Samuel was asleep and after I had consumed a large whisky, Ally and I went to Settle. Dad wanted some new lampshades. We didn't find any. Shopkeepers openly laughed when we asked for them. We spotted a nice little restaurant and decided to go back there tonight. We booked for 8:30. Dad looked particularly sad today. He says that he and Mum once tried to book a table at the Little House Restaurant (for that is the place), but it was full. We dressed, had a drink with Dad and went to dine. To Fred's first. Ally in her blue frock. A beautiful dinner. Home for 11. Dad was in his dressing gown. We could hear him sobbing in his dark bedroom. What a hopeless, bleak situation.

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