Sunday February 16, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

1st Sunday in Lent

I have contracted another soddin' cold. Probably from Samuel. My lips are cracked and I bleed when I smile. Downstairs bearded Brian asked me about Kaiser Wilhelm II and what became of him. I told him that the old Emperor had died in Holland (Dorn) in 1941, and that his grandson had married Lady Honor Guinness, and that his great-granddaughter Antonia von Preussen was the wife of a future Duke of Wellington. Yawn, gasp.

The pub is extraordinarily quiet this afternoon and bliss to go upstairs at 2:30 to watch 'Eastenders'. I sat with a large cherry brandy, purely for medicinal purposes. Oozing from various facial outlets. Mucus, &c. Feet up. Samuel is very good at times like this. Playing doctors and hospitals and practicing mechanics at the rear of his Postman Pat car. Quite a chatterbox. Large dark eyes like his mum. I'd love a dozen like him. Ally won't discuss boy names, and no doubt has a secret weapon up her sleeve. Wayne, or Dean, or something. 

-=-