Tuesday October 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Nothing much to report. It was the usual mausoleum in the bar downstairs this lunchtime punctuated only by the arrival of Uncle Peter in his overalls. I gave him a pork pie and we stood leaning on the bar. He recently bumped into Hilda in ASDA. He can be very naughty about our relations. Beverley, he says, wants to be a policewoman but failed the test by three points but can re-apply in 6 months. Late dray delivery. The saga of our sensitive 'Skivvy' glass washing machine continues. I tried to get hold of Les Gledhill without success, but eventually Ally succeeded. He was out of sorts and grumpy and said he would come to inspect the barrel of OBB tomorrow, which is our evening off. Never mind.

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