Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ
I'm writing this on the old pine table in our kitchen at 12:31am. _____. This time of ear is for children. It's a magical time which we should never spoil with adult problems. Not a steady day by any means. Up at 6am. The decorators came and started on our private lounge which should be finished by tomorrow. We went to Morrison's and spent £69 and then went to Linfood (4pm) and spent another £100. Samuel rode in the supermarket trolley like Ben Hur. We went on to the doctor at Paternoster Lane, Bradford. The evil receptionist, eating a large green apple, had a Dr Goebbels-like attitude and decided to be rude, but Ally stood her ground and insisted on seeing a doctor. Ally's quack, Dr Duck (her real name) is away having had a male duckling of her own, and so she saw a stand in doc who told her he would have to consult Dr Michie regarding Ally bringing forth George/Clemmie at the Bradford Royal Infirmary, but saw no major obstacles. Ally has to phone tomorrow for his deliberations. If he says 'no' then we shall find another Bradford GP. Ally refuses to go to the Clarendon Wing ...___. Samuel played excellently with a young lady in the waiting room who was waiting to see her doctor. I checked her out for spots and rashes and decided she must be there on a gynaecological visit. Am I perhaps a pervert? Liz Melvin in tonight. She was pale, but not pregnant. Her doctor has told her she is suffering from the side effects of the pill, giving her sick headaches. Did I really need to know this? The birth control pill is a nasty thing. The pool knock-out was a fiasco. It ended at 11:15pm.
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