Monday July 28, 1986

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

Ice, wind, rain, &c. Not a typical July. We waited all day for the Philips engineer to come to look at our washing machine. He didn't appear until 4pm when Ally and I were watching a tape of the Royal wedding and laughing at the puerile commentary of the great broadcaster Sir Alastair Burnet. He should really be horsewhipped ... along with the Philips engineer, who charged me £30 just to tighten up the points and connections and did nothing but moan about the inaccessibility of the appliance. British workmen. God Bless 'em. However, the machine was going again and within minutes of his departure the nappies were spinning furiously. All two dozen of them. Ally wrote a couple of thank you letters. Auntie Annie Wilkinson sent £15 and Aunt Elsie a dress. I sat over my D. Telegraph reading of furore over Michael Shea. The man should go. The palace is standing by Mr Shea and his is defended by Sir W. Heseltine, the private sec, but to quieten things down his head should roll. Damage has been done to Her Majesty and the PM over this. Heseltine has a letter in the Times today which makes it clear that the Queen accepts Mr Shea's version of events and not that of the Sunday Times, who published an article alleging HM was dismayed by Mrs Thatcher's policies. HM wouldn't be so unprofessional. My blood  boils. The poor maligned sovereign.

-=-

Sunday July 27, 1986

 5, Club Street

9th Sunday after Trinity

Samuel went for a walk to collect the morning papers and to walk-off our enormous breakfast. I bought a Sunday Telegraph, but weakened and also bought the News of the World. We came back and sat in the garden midst the flower pots. Sam always talks to the neighbours ginger Tom cat and is very cross when it declines to answer back. Well, I am on holiday. One must be light-hearted every so often. The latter organ leads with an account of poor Princess Michael of Kent's supposed 'affair' with the Earl of Suffolk & Berkshire, the thrice married millionaire, who is 51. Inside was a tal
e of the Duke and Duchess of York's pre-nuptial Ball at Windsor where 'Fergie' introduced Paddy McNally to Prince Andrew. All good stuff. The Telegraph leads with a train crash. In other news, Averell Harriman has died aged 94.

A warm afternoon. We put a chicken in the oven and took Clemmie out in her pram. Her first walkies. We went of all places to Scholemoor cemetery where the roses were beautiful and where Samuel could run around unhindered. The dead don't mind, I'm sure. Looking at tombstones both old and new one thing emerges very clear and frightening. One is so very lucky now to reach three score years and ten. People are not living longer despite the NHS, Giros, British Rail, Concorde, PVC, penicillin, or Margaret Thatcher. Most disturbing. Bessie phoned. Ate an enormous dinner. Our washing machine went kaput. I phoned Dad who said automatic machines are too complex for the amateur and I will have to call in Philips. Sod it. Sue goes to Scotland tomorrow.

-=-

Saturday July 26, 1986

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

Susan and Peter's sixth anniversary of blissful wedlock _______. We phoned tonight and Sue seemed cheerful. They were both drinking whisky, a present from Jim Nason. The boys both have spots and they are going to Horton in the morning and then to Scotland in Dad's car. Jill and Tim came here at 7 o'clock with Thomas. Clementine's first visitors. "Where have you got Clementine from -- the name that is?", Jill asked. 

-=-

Friday July 25, 1986

 Club Street, &c.

Went again in the car again to Duckworth Lane with Samuel clinging on in the back of the car wide-eyed with amusement at my new found mobility. The Co-op is doing very nicely out of me this week. We went to Cheap 'n Cheerful to give our glad tidings to Mrs Whitehead but it was her day off. Bought some notelets for announcing our child's arrival to friends we haven't phoned. Sarah C and the Rawnsleys, &c. She is a gorgeous fat little thing - like Samuel, but rounder and with a different nose. The little girl has no eye-lashes and of course her eyes are blue. They always are. Clementine has a perfectly shaped head, so unlike some babies, but am I slightly biased? Just think if I go along and collect my grandmother's birth certificate and find that she is really spelt 'Lavinia'! Dad says that his mother-in-law was a rotten speller too. Was she spelling her name 'Levinyer' because she knew no other? Mum's birth certificate definitely says her mother was Levinyer, but I am gripped with paroxysms of doubt.

-=-