Saturday April 5, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Today I am 31. Ally, God bless her, made it a special day with her munificence. Samuel came in early singing 'happy birthday to you' and the three of us sat in bed opening cards and presents. Ally bought me two shirts from 'Paris', at Rawdon. Exquisite. A tie rack, and a beautiful tie with a miniature elephant reclining. Two books. "Claudius the God" by Graves and "Les Misérables" by Victor Hugo. Thorntons chocolates. Breakfast in bed. The girls and Dad all phoned before 9am. It was touching to hear Dad. Lunch. Drink downstairs. Ally and Sam to bed. I had a lager with Margaret and Audrey and they formed a plot and gave me a 'German special' one of the concoctions favoured by our Gestapo clientele. I was slightly 'tight' by 4pm. Upstairs we had rump steak, sauteed mushrooms, white wine, &c. We then lay upon cushions on the floor like Roman patricians. I failed to win the pub 'flutter' on the Grand National. Chris phoned to say he cannot work tonight and so I axed him from my front bench team. Ally very beautifully said she would do his shift. Janette phoned to say they are coming. We went down at 7 and sat sozzled in a corner. We were joined by Uncle Peter, Auntie Jean, John, Janette, George W and Jayne. A quiet night really. You have to be reasonably quiet at 31. Bed at 12:30. No high jinx. No stoppybacks. No 21 gun salute.

-=-

Friday April 4, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn Leeds LS11 5NQ

Uncle Peter is 57 today. We haven't seen him since Christmas. One of my customers makes me feel like vomiting. Joan Shelton, 58, has just been savaging the poor prime minister. "I was never out of work until she got in". And there she is (Joan) supping gallons of mild every week and living a life of Riley. She expects something for nothing. Bloody parasite. Ally went to bed early and I went down to the bar for social intercourse. A drunk, tippling whisky in the tap room, upset me at 11:30 and I physically ejected him midst the breaking of glass and furniture. My remaining customers filed out in an orderly fashion. I went to bed covered in blood and sweat.

-=-

Thursday April 3, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ally to Dr Duck at 9:50. ________. Believe it or not Ally has yet to be confirmed as being definitely booked in to the BRI for baby's birth. St Luke's is the designated place and whenever Ally brings up the topic with Dr Duck she says "Oh don't worry. We'll have you at the BRI. It's where you went last time." It will mean war if we are thwarted this time. A home birth in fact. Ally has a wicked look on her face. She and Samuel are in collusion over my birthday presents, and by the look of things my wife has gone mad on the plastic again. On Saturday morning all will be revealed.

-=-

Wednesday April 2, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Lynn and the children came over this afternoon for high jinx and high tea. Ally laid on an old fashioned nursery spread and the little ones greatly appreciated it. Katie had never seen a doughnut before and sat wide eyed but refusing to touch one. Samuel was covered in jam. Little Thomas moves around like a badger and refuses to walk. David came and picked them up at 6. Lynn made a comment about the Moorhouse: "It's a typical town pub". Snobby somewhat. She perhaps should visit some of the pubs in town.

-=-

Tuesday April 1, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

We went over to Bradford this morning to meet Sue and Pete at Club Street where Peter installed a new kitchen sink and did the plumbing. I am very pleased with him really. Susan isn't the enormous mountain as in previous pregnancies and I pray she has a daughter. Surely not another uproarious boy? The children played well together considering the confined space. Ally went to the fish and chip shop and queued for almost an hour and returned with cold and greasy fayre. I do worry about all this work I am making for myself at Club St. It's two rooms stripped bare now and in six or seven weeks I am expected to have finished the lot. Oh dear. 

-=-

Monday March 31, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Bank Holiday in the UK (except Scotland)

Ally in a mood because she feels bilious and bloated and out of sorts and lay in bed with Samuel until the afternoon. Jill phoned to say they would be here at 4, but didn't arrive until 5 and so we missed out on food. I was just about to tuck into a turkey leg when they appeared. ________. They left when I opened up at 7 o'clock. A quiet night. Chris worked, or perhaps I should say he showed his face. We had an extension until 11:30 but shouldn't have bothered taking it. People go away to caravans at Morecambe and such places at Easter - for some reason.

-=-

Sunday March 30, 1986

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Easter Day

We roasted a turkey for Easter Day Sunday lunch. A lot of hard work and sweat for nothing. Ally didn't appreciate the big lunch, and the washing up went on and on. Samuel liked the candle on the table. Bessie and Frank phoned in the middle of the lunch and I sat eating alone for ages. Played on the floor with Samuel afterwards. We played at beds. I had to lay on the floor on a cushion sucking my thumb and play the baby. I am actually a baby. Frenzied night. Just Liz and I working. She shapes like a 'wet hen' as they say in Colne.

-=-

Saturday March 29, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

My life is probably at its lowest ebb. Utter dejection and misery. Depression has set in and everything seems bloody futile. Easter Saturday. Just Ally and I tonight. No festivities. Someone asked me why we've given the annual 'Easter Bonnet Parade' a miss. Stuff Easter altogether.

-=-

Friday March 28, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Good Friday. The 50th birthday of Auntie Hilda, who has gone off to Norfolk to see Ruby & Arthur for Easter. Poor H. She has now caught up with Mum. Mum will be forever 50, forever young, whilst we all grow steadily more older and more legless. Sunday hours in the pub today. Which came first? The Crucifixion, or Sunday hours in pubs on Good Friday? Did the pubs close early for the spectacle in Calgary perhaps? I won't be going up to Heaven, if I pursue this. Last Good Friday we were at Club St with poor Mum. It's all something of a blur now. Walking out to the bakery for hot cross buns. Dad's sad face. Mum's despair &c. Dad is now back at Horton taking in guests and cooking breakfasts and evening meals. Making beds, &c. Wouldn't Mum be proud of him?

-=-

Thursday March 27, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

An awful day. Ally was in such a mood  and threatened to retire into private life at Club Street which sent me into paroxysms of remorse and self-loathing. What a puking beast I really am. So bloody childish, &c. Everyone else looked so sober whilst I grovelled around in a red-eyed stupor. "Michael. You are almost 31 for God's Sake." Alcohol has always got the better of me. The Royal Wedding is to be at Westminster Abbey on Wednesday July 23, at 11:30am. This shatters any ideas we have of a 'street party' and revelries here because we should, God permitting, be at Bradford with our baby George/Clemmie. Who knows though? No doubt the bride will be attended by half-brother Andrew and half-sister Alice, and not forgetting Prince William of Wales. It seems I wasn't the only casualty last night. Alan was dreadfully sick in a Leeds street after exiting Hollywood Days/Nights. That pub has such a silly name.

-=-

Wednesday March 26, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I have a minor attack of the runs. Not to worry. It's the quiz thing at Hollywood Days & Nights. I went down with Alan and Jennie in the pouring rain leaving Ally upstairs and in bed. I promised not to over do things and to return home before dawn with my faculties intact. Obviously, promises I cannot seem to keep. In town we found Karma, his friend, and Geoff, Phyllis, Terry, Doreen, Garry Rhodes, &c. George Bailey, of Hollywood Days was in his team which is annoying because LG said I couldn't be in mine. We lost, but by ony two or three points. Had I been playing we would have won. Daft questions such as 'to whom was Lauren Bacall married?' 'What is Margaret Thatcher's maiden name?' All silly, easy answers. Stayed on afterwards with George and his dreadfully common mistress, who replaced Debbie, who has left him. They want to stay on and keep the licence but he is now in contravention of his contract of employment. The regulars are talking of sending a petition to the brewery, but it will be quite wrong and futile. Home very drunk at God knows what time. Rendered speechless in the taxi. Lay in bed with the room furiously revolving. Ally quite annoyed.

-=-

Tuesday March 25, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

This bloody problem with the car door is annoying. Appleyard's valued the the damage for insurance purposes at £100 but Frank says it isn't worth losing our no claims bonus and so Ally took the car around the corner to a little man with glasses and prodigious memory who said "Hello, Mrs Rhodes" - and he hadn't seen her since the Metro was bumped (June '85). The little man put the damage at £35 and the car is booked in for treatment on April 8-9. Sarah Collis phoned me last Friday. I didn't have room to say anything then. Bright and bubbly as usual. She had missed my TV appearance and was chatty and said she was hoping to come see us with Delia. Pigs might fly. We haven't seen Sarah for 2 years.

-=-

Monday March 24, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Queen Mary.

Snow and ice today. Up at 7 today when Samuel came in for his dawn cuddle and rounds of toast. I opened the mail but had no cheque for my Fergie contributions to the YP. Jill Parkin has returned my my 1981 Di(ana) family tree, but not my latest creation. We went to Morrisons and then Ally collapsed for the remainder of the day looking pale and complaining of heart burn and tiredness. Lately we have had a wild, non-stop time. Downstairs now I am a TV celebrity with the customers going on about genealogy instead of discussing the barmaids tits. We've gone all cultural. Someone said I am a budding' genealogist. Bloody Hell, I flowered years ago. It is reported that the royal wedding will probably be on August 6. The Duke of Edinburgh has cancelled a factory visit citing a state occasion. Jack Collett asked who was Mary of Teck. Coincidentally she died on this day in 1953, aged 85, the widow of King George V and grandmother of the Queen. She was born at Kensington Palace the daughter of Princess Mary Adelaide of Cambridge (a granddaughter of George III) and was as English as I am. The Duke of Teck, Mary's father of course, was a satellite of the Royal House of Wurttemberg.

-=-

Sunday March 23, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Palm Sunday

Up early, reasonably fit. Cannot understand the general sober condition of us all last night. Lynn was perhaps the most intoxicated - stealing the 'Constance Spry' flower arrangements as she did later on. Dad was quiet with an air of urgency about him. He left at 10 for Horton to receive his guests, saying he may miss the christening if he takes bookings. Very peculiar, but there you are. Lynn and Dave came to collect Thomas, who has been as good as gold, giving Samuel odd looks when he threw a wobbler over his scrambled eggs. We showed them our wedding video (which they had never seen before) and Lynn got upset seeing Mum boldly marching around Esholt churchyard. They left at 11. We lunched on roast chicken and watched 'Dallas' and 'The Colby's' when Samuel had his nap. I attempted to look at the Sunday papers. We have been so busy this week and have seen no news, other than Andrew and Fergie, of course. I plan to do a 'tree' for the YP showing all the Dukes of York together. It shouldn't be too complex. Worked tonight with Chris. Uneventful. Bed at 12:30.

-=-

Saturday March 22, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Trixie: Tomorrow the World

To the wedding of Jacq and Ian at St James's, Seacroft, and afterwards at the Mercury, Garforth. A dismal, windy day. Ally and I went to town this morning and spent a fortune. More clothes than Jackie Onassis. Lynn and David came here at 2 and we went to the Cricketer's for just one slurp before crossing the green for the service. The vicar made a list of silly announcements of 'do's' and 'don'ts' before performing the ceremony. At the wedding breakfast with sat with Gina & Hugh Dawson (see Journal Apr '78), and Jacq's old Stanmore Drive flatmate who is nameless and who now resides in Belgium. Trixie gave her best 'Joan Collins'  impersonation in black and grey with feathers in the day and shimmering sequins in the evening. She burst into the evening 'do' threw her arms open wide and exclaimed: "Tomorrow, the world". Joy Critoph is a dear thing. Home, sober, at 1am.

-=-

Friday March 21, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dear Joy Critoph came here for lunch with Terry, her boyfriend, and they stayed until after 4 o'clock. She is quite unchanged in the eight or nine years since I last saw her, and still a Sandie Shaw look-alike. Terry is a bearded, bespectacled Londoner. Possibly 35. We were hungover and frantically busy and so Ally didn't go over to collect Samuel from Hilda's until 2pm. She has enjoyed having him, saying he is so well behaved. When we left he called his great-aunt "sweetheart". He came bounding into the pub to meet Joy, and was very shy. Joy is Jacq's bridesmaid tomorrow and her dress she says is 'shocking mauve'. We threaten to giggle in church. Dad came here tonight. In the bar Jack Speight was the victim of a 'coppergram' and was 'arrested' by a naughty, nubile stripper in the guise of a WPC who stripped down to her undies. A jovial evening. Copies of my family tree did the rounds. Much Diet Pils. A hooligan attempted to spoil things, but out he went.

-=-

Thursday March 20, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

LG phoned to ask how I am coping with fame. Some good publicity after the recent 'piss in the beer' saga of recent weeks. My Andrew/Fergie family tree is in today's YP. I have a love of genealogical tables second to none. High winds. We went to town and on opening the door the wind almost took it off its hinges. A man at Appleyard's garage but the damage at £100. Ally and I were out tonight, separately of course, to Jacq and Ian's bachelor night parties. To the Town Hall Tavern and then the Vic and then Ritzes. Pete Sate is a giggle. I became hopelessly pissed. I got home at 2 and Ally was out until 3. I sat eating scampi and watching myself on the telly. So good for ones ego. Ally came back having done the Crown at Yeadon, Beau Brummells, &c. She says Lynn is very much back on form.

-=-

Wednesday March 19, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Bright. Breakfast TV is saturated with Fergie and we sat with bated breath. The YP carries my Sarah Ferguson/New Grange Hall connection and Helen Scott phoned me from the EP followed by Andrew Sheldon from 'Calendar'. I rattled on about Andrew becoming Duke of York on his marriage and he was beside himself with glee and asked me to go across to YTV at 5pm. Fame at last. Ally was just going out at 10:30 when she heard on the car radio of the royal betrothal and she came scampering back in. We videoed everything. The couple were interviewed at Buckingham Palace. They want a summer wedding, and seem besotted. Sarah Margaret Ferguson is a boisterous red-headed freckled type that I would have thought the prince would have steered clear of, but thankfully no. They will, says the court correspondent at the BBC, be known as Prince and Princess Andrew, but the lad will be created Duke of York and Earl of Inverness before the wedding, if you ask me. Since the beginning of February I have been confident of the union, and her lineage is impeccable. She is no shy virgin. The arrival of princes Willian and Henry have made it possible for Prince Andrew to marry Sarah. She wouldn't have done for Charles. She has had two lovers at least, and one old enough to be her father. Ally is ecstatic and she phoned LG to warn of my emerging TV stardom. By taxi to YTV at 5 where I sat in an ante room with the weather forecaster and two tarts. Lashings of coffee, &c. At 5:45 in came Richard Whiteley and we watched the ITN news together. He laughed and ejaculated throughout and obviously has republican sentiments. Cynical ____. We went on air at 6pm and I attempted to keep cool. He said most of the things I wanted to say in his intro leaving me almost high and dry, but in fact I didn't dry up. "Surely we are all related to each other way back" he interjected, unhelpfully. The whole of the news programme was based on my information. They showed old film of the previous Duke and Duchess of York at Fountains Abbey in 1932. At the climax of the programme Whiteley said that as a county we do not do too well for royal connections. I jumped in with the late Princess Royal and Earl of Harewood, and of course the Duchess of Kent. Stardom over. Back to the pub at 8 after and hour in the bar at the YTV with Andrew Sheldon and S. Benedic (?). Taxi home. My TV appearance has been good for publicity. Jack Collett was speechless.

-=-

Tuesday March 18, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

It was just like old times today. A royal engagement is looming. Mike Brown phoned. It's his day off but he says he has contacted Jill Parkin re Sarah Ferguson's connection to New Grange Hall, Headingley, and sure enough she phoned with breathless fascination. I gave her the details and then later she phoned asking for my family tree showing the prince and Sarah's descent from King James VI & I. Jill is the daughter of ___ Parkin, who was a big noise at the EP and probably still is. The piece will be in the YP tomorrow. I do hope that my brewery connection gets a mention because Sam Smiths have had some very bad publicity in recent days. A gang from the Cambridge at Middlesbrough recently visited the brewery and whilst visiting the fermenting tanks some tattooed yobs pissed in the vat despoiling £7,000 worth of ale. Future brewery visits are now in jeopardy. Even the Daily Mirror picked up on this. "Two Pee On Beer" was the ghastly headline.

-=-

Monday March 17, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

St Patrick's Day

Bank Holiday in Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland

St Patrick's Day. What rubbish. For some reason Bill Gilmore got completely blotto, and he isn't remotely Irish. Maureen has gone into hospital to ger her legs 'done'. You know, varicose veins, &c. Anne (Wilkinson) is covering her with the cleaning here. The old girl dotes on Sam. She was in today and as she was mopping she casually announced that according to Radio Aire Prince Andrew and Sarah Ferguson are getting engaged today. Ally went to the BRI for a scan and she phoned me at 11 to say that we are only expecting one baby, and probably has more fluid than normal. We are not disappointed and expected this result. The silly GP has cocked up the dates. Sent a postcard to Mike Brown re Prince Andrew & SF, mentioning New Grange Hall and the Leeds family connection. Will the YP be interested?

-=-

Sunday March 16, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

5th Sunday in Lent

British Summer Time begins

This volume declares that BST begins today when in fact it doesn't. That is coming on Easter Day, according to the radio. Wet and dismal. We went out after breakfast to Hilda's where we found her pale and encased in bandages after falling down the stairs and twisting her ankle. Tony and Hayley were in the garden and Thomas John in his pram. We had a coffee and a grovel to ask H to have Samuel on Tuesday so that we can go to the Cawood stag do at Beau Brummels. Later we went to Susan's where Samuel went wild with his raucous cousins. He is sometimes cruel with little Benjamin. Sue says that another son will be Joseph Lawrence. Excellent. Peter laughed. The sink we made enquiries about costs £175. No thanks. We will make do with the shells and dolphins and spend £17. We had a tea party and came back to the pub at 7. I am totally knackered. Spent time making the books balance, and then for relief I took to my genealogical table of Andrew & Fergie. That other romance here between Chris Mawson and Vicky Pearson is thankfully off due to family pressure, he says.

-=-

 

Saturday March 15, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

To Menston this afternoon at 4pm and found Janette in bed. She peeped out at us from behind her bedroom curtains. John was working. Charlotte Nora is a pink, bulky thing. We had a good conference - Janette in her dressing gown - after which Ally felt happy and confident that the Moorhouse can site a wedding reception. We will have a buffet upstairs for immediate kith and kin, and then have friends and distant relatives pm. Janette wants nothing as common as pork pies, and no expense is to be spared. Salmon mousse was even discussed. The girl has everything worked out in her mind. Janette clearly trusts our judgement. We will not let the happy couple down. We came back to the pub happier.

-=-

Friday March 14, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ally doesn't think we can cope with a wedding reception for John and Janette in the pub. Lots of obstacles need to be overcome before we can see one taking place. Dad left with his ears ringing with Ally's words on the coming nuptials and she is strongly suggesting another wedding venue. We need to see John and Janette before we can formulate a plan. Whatever happens it cannot be a 'free do'. Mum paid us almost £100 in 1984 for their Pearl wedding extravaganza. Sausage rolls do not grow on trees. Dad's car is 107. Later, Madge & Frank's pre-nuptial booze up here. Silly really.

-=-

Thursday March 13, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ten years ago today John married _______________. It was a very misty, cold day if I recall. I have a funny feeling that I shouldn't be John's 'best man' for the second time. It didn't bring him much luck the first time around. Dad and Sam walked up Dewsbury Rd. Papa does fret about his financial situation. Mum had confidence and bravado and never lost sleep over money but now that he's alone he finds himself with a dwindling cash flow, or lack of it. We sent off for John's birth certificate.

-=-

Wednesday March 12, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad came but very late and we had been in a mood of expectancy all day. He appeared as we were preparing to go to Bradford and so he came with us in our car. Straight to it. We stripped the bedroom and Dad smashed off the old black plaster. Ally, Sam and I went to get our hair cut. These communal haircuts are a success. Later, Sam helped us strip off old flowery wallpaper, and Ally made a lasagne. Dad suggests that the original wallpaper dates back to the Boer War. Later as we sat and ate Dad and I gave each other long "should we go out to the pub" looks, but nothing came of it. We returned to the Moorhouse later on. Poor Dad. I must bore you, but have to say he is so very brave. He has asked about borrowing my collection of Dickens books. Evidently, Arnold is into Dickens in a big way. ________.

-=-

Tuesday March 11, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Phoned Dad. He's coming here tomorrow for a couple of nights. We plan to go to Club St and knock damp plaster off Sam's bedroom wall and so he will be able to assist. Phoned Leeds Register Office to enquire about John's birth certificate. A cheque for £5 and a stamped addressed envelope should see us right. Will it interest you to know that I am almost 13st? Today I accidentally stood on the bathroom scales and gasped in horror. Surely, I was only 11 and a half stone at the last weigh in? But when was that? I'm too bloody busy to do anything. Taking a bath is a luxury. Michael Rhodes is almost 31.

-=-

Monday March 10, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

I was startled at 11pm GMT to receive a call from Janette who announced that she and John are to marry without pomp at Bradford Register Office on September 6, 1986, with Ally and I as the principal witnesses. Dumbfounded. I asked if John was aware of this decision and she gave one of her withering sighs. John phoned Dad last night, she says, to make it all official. The proposal took place on Saturday night after they dined with the Bakers, and Janette says she was completely taken aback. Janette wants a reception here for about 40 people, but we don't know how it will be possible. Our baby will be six weeks old. John needs a copy of his birth certificate and asks if I can find one for him. They have decided that Maria must have destroyed the original. I phoned Leeds Register Office and they asked me to forward a £5 postal order. We'd like to see John first before we are entirely satisfied that things are going to go ahead.

-=-

Sunday March 9, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Mothering Sunday. Felt low. A wet and cold day. To Guiseley at 10. Me at the wheel. Took pots of primroses and crocuses to Mum's grave. Very muddy, but we left it looking pretty. Samuel said: "Bye bye, Granny", when we left. To Lynn's for a sherry. John & Janette dined with them last night for David's birthday. We were in the dark about this and feel a little let down. We gave Dave a marble cheese board. Back here at 12 feeling atrociously grumpy. 

At 3 we went to (Auntie) Mabel's. She was with Connie and looked podgy. Samuel in his velvet suit and bow tie became quite paranoid about the snake-like draught excluder at her door and he paraded around the tiny flat saying "don't like it", and yet he couldn't put it down. Mabel told me that Mum's cousin Elsie Basham  died aged 68 at the end of last month (daughter of my great-aunt Harriet Basham, née Wilson). Elsie was renowned for attending every family funeral, no matter how distant or remote was the family member. Uncle Albert used to say that the elbows of her black overcoat were always covered in the grease from the numerous boiled ham funeral teas. Elsie has an only son, Peter Hawkridge (?) who is about 38 or 39. A huge tea. Chicken salad, &c. Mabel was very complementary about Ally saying how much she admired how she can run a public house and be a mother. I said that I am of the very same opinion. Samuel followed Mabel into her kitchen and called her 'granny'. He is a very good little boy and Mabel loves him.

-=-

Saturday March 8, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

David B is 30. I am no longer the only one of the family at this revered, august age. I have been terribly lazy of late and this journal is suffering. 

Up at 7 when Samuel came skipping in. He is sweet and talkative but with a hideous, running, green nose. We endured Postman Pat before breakfast and then went over to Bradford at 9 with me at the wheel. Steve O'Connor's been doing some 'pointing'. Saw poor old Jack O'Brien in his garden and we expressed our condolences. Words are quite meaningless at such times. Poor Mary (Moore) is on sticks after six weeks in hospital and looks shocking. We measured up Sam's bedroom for festoon blinds. Sometimes I think that Ally thinks I am the Duke of Westminster. Back to Leeds for 11. Ally called upon her doctor for a prescription. _________. Samuel urinated in the car park. 

A fresh spring-like day. Bev Pirie came in with Audrey. Uncomfortable. Ally ironing. 12:30 saw the arrival of John, Janette and Charlotte Nora. We sat upstairs with drinks and I nursed the baby who is a replica of Catherine at the same age. JPH now has four sisters. Maria gave birth to another daughter recently. She's called Heather. John came down to the bar with me and I thought he might mention the possibility of a forthcoming wedding, but he didn't. They left at 3. Baby is beautiful.

Tonight: Margaret came in for a drink ________. Later, watched the film 'Poor Cow'.

-=-

Friday March 7, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The video repair man came back again and replaced our troublesome Fisher appliance. Good now. Almost a warm day. We argued in the pub about British Summertime. Some diaries say it begins on March 16 and others say March 30, but the latter is Easter Day, and I feel sure it isn't Christian to tamper with the clocks on such a feast. We'll see. Didn't phone Dad today. He has been so distant of late, and preoccupied. Ally says it is money issues. Phoned Mabel and booked ourselves in for Sunday tea. She is 67 tomorrow. She was at Marlene's washing her hair. To town at 4 for an hour. Bought Ally two blank video cassettes for Mothering Sunday. Samuel had tantrums in all the shops. It's a funny age. Phoned Sue (Samuel inserting the coins) and told her of Ally's scan and the possibility of twins. I do like getting them all going. Ally was furious for some reason. Poor Sue's sinuses are in turmoil and she's been consigned to wearing dark glasses though how that helps with catarrh God knows. The Nasons have been brought to near bankruptcy by the new patio doors and bunk beds. An extremely busy night though I didn't go down until 9:30 (I opened up 6-7). Ally went to bed early. I recorded 'The Colby's', and a film 'Poor Cow'. I will never have time to view them of course. 

Thursday March 6, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Lynn's birthday today - poor girl. They went to Scarborough today and she hit the Pernod tonight. I phoned her and she seemed sad , and she mentioned visiting the cemetery on Sunday, Mother's Day. It will be sad. A year ago today I can remember Mum laying in bed upstairs saying, in a rare fit of self-pity, that she would never see another of Lynn's birthdays. How true. 

Ally saw Dr Duck at 9:50 who thought too that she is further 'on' than 21 weeks, more like 25 weeks, mentioned twins, and suggested a scan, but added that we shouldn't get too excited because baby might just be a large foetus. And Ally is only 5ft tall, don't forget. What do you think of twins? A lovely idea. 

No staff tonight. Just Ally and I. Busy early doors. Phoned Dad. He says some Dutch have provisionally booked in at Waltergarth. Lloyd Crowther, the previous owner of Waltergarth, has died in Benidorm.  Dad was sad about Bridget O'Brien. They used to talk when meeting at the dustbins.

-=-

Wednesday March 5, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

We now live, breathe, sleep and eat Postman Pat. This afternoon we went over to dear Club St where Samuel and I stripped the small bedroom of its wallpaper. A hive of industry. Later we had lasagne and bathed a dusty, exhausted Sammy and attempted to put him to bed. He steadfastly refused. I was in the comic situation of crawling around in the darkened bedroom whilst Sammy lay clutching Snoopy, with one eye closed and other eye scowling down at me. Ally had her feet up watching 'Dallas'. It was poor Bobby Ewing's funeral. The old Miss Ellie back and Sue Ellen is on the bottle. Just like old times. I was sticking some photographs in Dad's album when at 10 o'clock a distraught man knocked at the door saying he was Mrs O'Brien's son-in-law and that our neighbour had died an hour ago from pneumonia, meningitis and blood pressure. An awful shock. We didn't know that Mrs O'B was ill. We were speechless. She was a sweet, Irish lady with a friendly face and in all the years we have dwelled at Club St she never once complained about our orgies and drinking bouts. We retired at 1am, quite worn out.

-=-

Tuesday March 4, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

The lads were here again today in the cellar after spending a night at the Adriatic on Harehills Lane. They say the proprietor is a Pole. I thought he was an Italian. The job was finished at lunchtime and they celebrated with burgers and chips. A guy from Vallance's came to repair our video player and he condemned it, saying it was beyond repair and that the tuner had 'gone'. Postman Pat was sounding like a castrated pig. The annoying thing is that we now have to wait until Friday for a new appliance. British industry is so bloody slow. One wouldn't have to wait until Friday in Tokyo or Frankfurt. I boiled in my rage and stamped on the floor like John Cleese. Graham was back at 6:30 for an hour or so before going to meet Anthony (Browne) at 'Cloud Nine'. Graham told me the hair-raising tale of how he was almost copped for evading the payment of his TV licence. Gill was cautioned by a pin-striped thug on their doorstep "anything you say will be taken down" &c. Ally and I alone downstairs later with only three octogenarian punters. I attempted to record 'I, Claudius' but got the wrong channel.

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Monday March 3, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

We were rudely awakened at dawn by Samuel who went on the rampage and burst into Graham and Gill's room waking Simon, whose cry sounded like one of Churchill's speeches. We had a chaotic breakfast and then went into town where Gill took a shirt back to Next. She has tried to do this in every other Next in GB. We went to Vallance's to moan about our video recorder, and while we were out they sent someone to the pub to fix it. Silly. We looked at Jane's antique pine shop on Burley Rd and we returned at 12 to find workmen crawling all over the place replacing the cooling system. Busy with lunches too, and the place was bouncing with activity. The Dixons left at 1:40 looking genuinely relaxed. I think the weekend has been a success. Gill was particularly in need of a break. Samuel delights in toddler company.

The poor Queen has had a rough ride on her current tour of the antipodes. Eggs were thrown at HM in New Zealand , and it was the first time that the Queen has been struck by a missile in the 34 years of her reign. People flashed bare bottoms and tits too. Despite all this tomfoolery the Queen always appears more relaxed on her walk-abouts in the Dominions.

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Sunday March 2, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

3rd Sunday in Lent

Early start. Samuel seeking his cousins ended up in bed with Gill, who was half dead. Graham, bright and breezy, went out in search of the Sunday Times. I concocted a breakfast for everyone. A 'full-English'. A mammoth task. We all ate in the kitchen. Philip Middlebrough phoned and we arranged to meet them at the Royalty on the Chevin, where a family room is set aside for the poor souls with a plethora of offspring. A brisk, bright and sunny day. We went up to the Chevin for 12. Hustle and bustle but extremely pleasant. All the children piled into a large plastic Wendy House and we big ones hit the drink. I drank pints of Guinness. Afterwards to Philip and Carol's, a shoe-box in a Menston backwater. Tom, the elder son, drags a duvet around as a comforter. Oh dear. Home for 5pm. Liz phoned in sick and so I phoned Maureen who came in with Margaret at 8. We sat downstairs until 9:30 talking about F & B, Andrew & Lorraine, &c. Graham went out and bought us a Chinese-takeaway. We watched a play - "Hotel Du Lac". We wet ourselves laughing  at the quip Graham made to Philip last night: "Hello Philip - still as boring as ever." Aaarrgghhhh.

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Saturday March 1, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

St David's Day

Sunshine. Graham and Gill got here at 12:30, and after all the children had thoroughly inspected each other, Graham and I came down to the tap room to watch the rugby from Twickenham. England v. Eire. Graham is a fan, of course. He hit the Diet Pils with a vengeance and suffered thereafter. He had all the symptoms: 1). Senseless grin, (2) Purple eyes, (3) Legs akimbo, (4) looseness of both vowels and bowels, &c. He drifted hither and thither with his light-blue pullover draped over his shoulders.

Later the children all went to bed. The Dixons together and Samuel in ours. We dined on lasagne, and then went down to meet Philip and Carol (Middlebrough). A fairly quiet night with interruptions from the children who cried at intervals. ____________. Graham was the first to retire. V. pissed.

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Friday February 28, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Will Prince Andrew wed Fergie? She is of good stock, a brilliant pedigree in fact but her age is against her. 26 leaves her a bit long in the tooth. She has a colourful past and doesn't have the virgin image of Lady Diana Spencer. A couple of nameless EP reporters called in and gasped - they didn't know I was here. When I told them that Fergie has some Leeds ancestry the note books came out and they took down my genealogical information, and a gleam of interest was aroused. They will contact me when an announcement is made.

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Thursday February 27, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Christopher Paul (Nason) is 4 today. We went over to Guiseley at 1:30 to Thorpe Lane via the cemetery where Mum's grave looked desolate. Dead flowers from January, and the water in the bowl a solid block. Ally and Samuel stayed in the car. We didn't want mud on the boys party clothes. We went on to Sue's where she looked worn out and short tempered, full of cold and complaining of a constant headache. The children were all in a queer mood and uncommunicative. Dad was quiet too. He went to collect Frances from school. She came in looking very grown up in her grey uniform. Samuel and Ben managed to wreck the record player whilst Rod Stewart was in full swing. A gloomy party really. I had a few glasses of wine and asked Dad if he would like to be a casual barman on his visits to the Moorhouse. He says he will have a go. The poor man is in a highly emotional state. He almost broke down when I told him we had been to see Mum. He bleakly said: "I haven't been for some time." We shouldn't consider it a duty to go and should only do so when we feel it's right. It eases the pain to talk to a stone. It's good to have a place where people can go. Lynn was bright. Janette and Charlotte boycotted the party.

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Wednesday February 26, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The first round of the L. Gledhill Quiz extravaganza when Don Whitfield (Brown Hare, Harehills) and Co. came here. A good turn out. Ally was the quiz master, and we lost by 11 points. A mixed bag of questions. One of their team won 'Sale of the Century' in 1979. Don loved it and played all the ghastly country and western records on the juke box. Rob Piper with one of his barmaids and her husband came in. A queer strangely naive chap. We were busy and all in all it was a good night. No sign of LG. It was interesting to see that Rob had managed to get a by through to the second round. He is LG's pet. Upstairs we watched 'Dynasty' - no, 'The Colbys'.

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Tuesday February 25, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The video cometh at about 12 o'clock. Not happy with the picture by any means. Ally looked at me as if to say: "I told you so." We recorded Postman Pat for Samuel which he loved and "I, Claudius" which I watched at bedtime. Derek Jacobi. What an excellent actor he is. Haven't I seen him in something at the Bradford Alhambra?

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Monday February 24, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Full Moon

My phone call to Horton today was distressing. Poor Dad was so distant and vague and uncaring. He seemed totally disinterested. He must be so depressed. 

We have re-started the pool knock-out competitions. Nothing spectacular. Clive won. 

The video player is coming tomorrow. Yippee. After all the years of waiting. 

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Sunday February 23, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

2nd Sunday in Lent

John & Sheila.

My Uncle John phoned from Cambridge wanting to talk to Dad. He and Sheila are over here from the Canaries for five weeks 'enjoying the cold'. He wants to go to Horton on Saturday when Arnold and Dot are supposedly going. I phoned Dad and he seemed a little glum. What can we do to alleviate his misery? He has applied for the position of North Yorkshire road safety officer and has completed an application form. Good luck to him. He cannot live on his police pension and the erratic B & B intake. His car is a rust heap, and he needs a purpose in life. 

Anyway, regarding this video player. We went to Vallance's yesterday where they can provide interest free credit. We snapped up a Fisher Sanyo appliance for £430 or so, paying about £8 a week. I have wanted one for ages.

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Saturday February 22, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Ian and Jacq.

Bright and sunny. At 12 Jacq and Ian came in and we sat upstairs discussing the coming marriage. They are  having the usual pre-wedding nerves and some family squabbles. ___________. Ian's stag night is on March 20, and I must go. The wedding reception is taking place at the Mercury Ladbroke Hotel in Garforth. Jacq looked very well. They left at 2. To Vallance's where we saw a video player and yes - we bought it! (See tomorrow). We half expected to see John and Janette but they didn't appear. We both agree that a wedding 'do' here will be too much for Ally. Like Hell, in fact. Chris and Liz worked tonight. I went down for a drink.

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Friday February 21, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Margaret.

Our recent holiday must have been more beneficial for the pub than we ever thought it would because a more relaxed, warm, and homely atmosphere has descended upon the Moorhouse this week. Ally and I like young lovers, laughter abounding, &c. Such pleasantness. A busy night. Just Margaret and I. Chris was supposed to be working but said he now has a prior engagement, but then he actually came here into the tap room at 8 o'clock slobbering all over Vicky Pearson. I fumed at this. Vicky will eat Chris for breakfast. She has had more prick than a second hand dart board. If the lad continues to refuse to work Fridays he will get the chop. Totally out of order him coming in here as a customer. Later upstairs I read Robert Graves.

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Thursday February 20, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Some of the Fleet Street organs thought that yesterday would see Prince Andrew's engagement to Sarah Ferguson. The royal family don't do things like that. I gave Dad a run down on Miss F's family. LG called in at 12:30 and was affable. Ally went over to her clinic in Bradford at 1pm taking in Linfood, &c. Dad and I ate an enormous lunch of steak & kidney pie at 3pm, and then he went off to Guiseley to see Susie. He cannot dwell anywhere or on anything for long and he left in a vague flurry, almost on automatic pilot. I find it hard to describe his demeanour. Ally was back at 4pm in fine form. The midwife is pleased with her progress. She is 19 weeks exactly. Well, yesterday she was. Ally is so very content with the Bradford set-up. 

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Wednesday February 19, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Club Street.

Cold and ice. Lieutenant the Prince Andrew, RN, is 26. My fourth driving test at Harehills at 9am. A bloody disaster. Mucked up at a few junctions and made myself a laughing stock at a roundabout . My examiner shit himself at some traffic lights. Such a foolish boy. Back home for 10am. Dad walked over to Morrison's with Samuel and when they toddled back over the ice and saw the 'L' plates still in position he asked no further questions. At 4 we all went to Club Street. Dad helped me rack sone wine. It was like vinegar. Ugh. Ally watched the tv series The Colbys. Samuel slept in our bed. Dad and I went out to the Oddfellows, which I didn't like, and then to the Coach House, a Whitbread establishment. Took fish and chips home for us. Ally had a prawn curry. Returned to the Moorhouse at 11:30. An exhausting sort of day. I am a Reginald Molehusband.

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Tuesday February 18, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad phoned from Guiseley this afternoon and invited himself over here for a few days. We love to see him. I am taking my driving test tomorrow and so the long held secret will be discovered at the eleventh hour. We had tea off the Minton china when Dad came at 4:30. Samuel had been 'glued' to 'Postman Pat'. We stood at the window for ages waiting for Dad's chugging, ailing vehicle. I went down at 5:30. We had no staff tonight. Stone dead. Ally and Dad came down at 8 and sat chatting. He says that Janette now says the wedding is to take place at Bradford Register Office in June or July followed by a reception for 40 people here. Ally paled at this. She will of course be nine months pregnant by then. Dad added that John and Janette are coming here soon to discuss the finer details and that we are not to say that he has 'leaked' the news to us. Maria gave birth to a daughter, her fourth child, recently. JPH remains the only son. We went up at 11:30 and I told Dad of my test. He thinks I am weird for not saying anything before. For once he has had a complete week at Waltergarth. The poor man hates solitude.

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Monday February 17, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Washington's Birthday Observance

Lynn came here this afternoon bubbling away with the children and stayed for tea. The girls eat like little pigs. Mounds of biscuits and chocolates were consumed. It was all too much for Samuel who sat goggle-eyed at the visit. Tantrums. We put it down to excitement. Poor Lynn was wearing Mum's engagement ring and confessed to great feelings of morbidity and gloom. She has terrible nightmares and thinks that she will go the same way. Let's face it. Cancer or heart attacks dominate in taking the population down and so one of the family is going to be struck down in a similar way. But why be in fear of it?

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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. 

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Saturday February 15, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

It would be a tragedy to lose the prime minister. She is the only person in whom I can place my confidence and she does deserve a third term. Another crack at the whip. If the Tories ditch her before the next general election I will refuse to vote and remain at home on polling day and read Dickens.

Andrew is 22. 

The pub was deathly quiet for three reasons. 

1). The weather

2). Barry McGuigan is fighting on the telly

3). The punters may think the Kennedys are still here

Bernie: wellingtons.

Tonight: Punters gathered around the TV in the tap room. Even Frank and Bernie and other lounge inhabitants, to watch the fight. I've never been one for boxing but found it entertaining. I stood for the national anthems and then dimmed the pub lighting for effect. It was like the Odeon cinema. Bernie was wearing her wellington boots. Barry McGuigan won in 13 rounds. His opponent was one of those south American types. 

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