Saturday September 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

New Moon

It was an early rise because of our darling son and heir, who had no qualms about getting his drunken Papa out of bed to provide him with a 'full English' breakfast. The guests from last night had stayed over and they all ate too. Some in a shocking state of undress. Gerry in his canary yellow y-fronts. We watched cartoons on the telly and giggled at Maggie Philbin, or is she Philpotts? They all left at 11. Pitts had collapsed on the loo and we found him with his pants around his ankles amidst the choking fumes. Ally was green. At 12 we returned to bed for a few hours, and Samuel caught up on some beauty sleep. Little else to say. Phoned Dad. We are going to Horton tomorrow.

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Friday September 13, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Hayley is two. Ally went to a birthday party at the new Sanderson pile on Crawshaw Rise (or is it Drop?).

Tonight, as planned, Chippy (now suave, and known as Gerry Ash) and a gang consisting of Ian Pitts (normal) and a red headed 24 year-old bank clerk with a frustrative personality, and his Mexican-like silent brother. A long evening of debauchery. They were drinking the Diet Pils and became hopelessly intoxicated. I drank Campari and was the height of sophistication all evening.

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Thursday September 12, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Lunchtime. Ally and Sam went with Papa to the Clarendon Wing to see Thomas John Elmer. There was a very good 'turn out' and a multitude surrounded Jill's bed.

(I can write no more because I have spilt some wine on the page and made it wet. Sorry).

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Wednesday September 11, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

John and Janette have registered Charlotte. Marlene is 40 today and celebrated by going to play Bingo.

club Street.

We went to Bradford at 3 after doing the lunches. To Duckworth Lane Co-op, Oxfam, &c. On to Club Street and met Dad. He was in the garden. We pottered around pruning the foliage, and had cheese and bread for lunch. It was the first time that Dad had set foot here since May 6, when Mum left for Horton. Our sense of loss now passes in silence. It is unspeakable. Fish & chips tonight and 'Minder' on the telly. Sam slept in our bed after a playful bathtime. We all came back to the Moorhouse at 11:30pm. Phoned Marlene and spoke to Debbie. M was of course 'bingoing'.

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Tuesday September 10, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Baby Thomas John.

Warm and sunny. Leslie Gledhill appeared at breakfast time. I had been up since 7am in the cellar cleaning the beer lines, and he appeared as I was tucking into some tea and toast. Samuel was delighted and played with Les's musical calculator. LG asked if we fancy a move. He is obsessed with moving managers around, and assumes we are bored with the place now. He agrees that the overall appearance of the place is disgusting and squalid, and John Newband was spoken of in very unflattering terms. We discussed our peculiar stocks of late and M.R. Dalison, the stocktaker. He went off like a tornado. The dray came at 12. Ally went out shopping and at 2:45 Samuel and I went out for one of our regular walks over the motorway bridge and to the park. We inspected a large, black pony. Samuel is a delight. Back at 3:30 for a makeshift tea. Poor Ally was weak at the knees (gynaecological redaction). Downstairs at 5:45 Hilda phoned to say Jill had a son, Thomas John, at 4pm, by Caesarian section. He weighs 8lb 8oz. Poor Jill was out cold and missed the whole thing, but both are well. Hilda says she'll feel better after visiting at 7pm. _____. Spoke to Papa tonight. He has been at Menston. The tension there has eased. John is registering Charlotte with his surname tomorrow. He and Janette plan to marry, but J is vague about a date. They are a contrary pair.

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Monday September 9, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Leslie Gledhill came in at 11:57am. The price of our ales are increased. Old Brewery Bitter is now 69p (was 65p), lager now 81p (was 77p), Pils 96p (was 91p), Mild 66p (was 62p), &c. &c. All very amusing really. The customers become so unruly about it, and I am on the receiving end. Poor Dave Florey collapsed and died at 11:30am en route here. He was a little pain, but a jester in the Archie mold. A good lager drinker too, and only 43.

Lynn and David plighted their troth seven years ago today down at Esholt. I phoned them tonight but they were out celebrating. Dad answered. He was sitting watching TV holding Frances by the hand. He says how grown up Franny is and that she wanted to sit with her grandad for a short while.

(Large redaction too sensitive to publish)

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Sunday September 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

14th Sunday after Trinity

Susan and Peter came with the boys. Susie tells us that she is 'washing up' at Harry Ramsden's three nights a week. I have a rush of pity. My poor sister having to go out and do greasy dishes, &c. My God it will be a change for her. ___________. Doesn't Maria also work at Harry Ramsden's?

Old Harold Wilkinson is reading a book, supposedly serious, that explains how Pope John Paul I was 'done in' in 1978. These RCs are a right bunch, aren't they?

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Saturday September 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally was in a collapsed state all day and did her 'Sleeping Beauty' routine on me. Poor Samuel was motherless.

A happy birthday to Queen Elizabeth I who first breathed air upon this day in 1533 at Greenwich. She once said: "Good morning gentlemen both", to a delegation of seven tailors. Sounds very Monty Python to me.

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Friday September 6, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mary Theresa Collinson, our kitchen assistant gave her notice today. It has been brewing for a long while. We are secretly elated because the food trade is so bad we simply don't need her services. She goes on holiday to Jersey on Sunday for a week. We have the option to employ her whilst we are on holiday Sept 19-Oct 2. In recent months we have been able to slice the air with a knife in our catering kitchen. Ally is developing a complex that she cannot get on with anybody.

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Thursday September 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Day off. We escaped to Club Street and the domestic delights of our Bradford nest. We could never let Club Street go. If I won £48m on one Mr Maxwell's Bingo games we'd keep Club Street. Yes, we might also acquire a chateau in the Loire Valley but Ash Tree Cottage is here to stay. Samuel loves the place too and says 'cottage' when we pull up outside. The day was blustery and fine and so we went to Duckworth Lane and the Co-op where we squabbled about what to eat - eventually picking up some ridiculous Findus salmon and cod creations at a £1 each. To Cheap 'n Cheerful and then home for lunch. Ally phoned Bessie and a contractor about our damp. Yes, we have damp in both our homes. Bessie says that Simon has a lump on his back and has to go to Bristol to see a paediatrician. I had a gloomy hour sticking some of Dad's photos in an album. Only last year Mum was bouncing around all tanned  with that gleaming smile. After Sam's nap we went out for a walk, but the wind and violent rain drove us home. Sam slept in the middle of our bed and we reclined in chairs with books. A ghastly epic 'Superman III' was on TV which we only half watched (we have taken our tiny black and white portable Tv back there). We returned to Leeds for 11:30. The pub had been quiet because of a 'do' at the Canning Street Club to which the cream of Beeston society attended. Sam was restless in bed. He must be too old for this bedroom shuttle.

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Wednesday September 4, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Overcast - me and the weather. The alarm sounded at 7 but Ally switched it off for half an hour. Felt groggy and could have stayed in bed, but didn't. Graham went for a run, devoured an egg, and left for Manchester. Ally, Sam and I went to town and bought pies at the market, and a pile of birthday cards which cost me £4 - the tribulations of having so many kinfolk. Uncle Peter appeared at 12 for a Cornish pasty. I sat with him for an hour. Julie is marrying Steve on Sept 6 next year and afterwards at Norfolk Gardens, Bradford. Dad is to be invited for the whole day, but cousins are invited to the evening soiree. Tonight Ally and I worked without staff. Chippy's friend, Ian Pitts, appeared with a car key and asked me to keep it behind the bar for Chippy to collect tomorrow. Odd. Pitts said that a gang will be coming here on Friday Sept 13. Say no more.

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Tuesday September 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Graham appeared again. This time he's working in Manchester. The poor boy looks tired and is still off the cigs and jogging regularly. He came in and flopped down on our settee and slept until 10 when he came down for a few (drinks). It was dead downstairs. Paul Chalmers came in - you remember Paul - he was a much tattooed regular here last year. Anyway, his sister was a victim of the recent Manchester Airport disaster (Aug 22) when 54 bound for Corfu were fried on the tarmac. The poor buggers didn't even get in the air.

Barbara Thingy appeared on 'Name That Tune', a ghastly musical quiz on ITV. You remember Barbara - Lynn's elderly friend from her Yorkshire Light Aircraft days, who frequented Pine Tops gatherings in the halcyon days of yesteryear. 

Someone had an epileptic fit in a mini in the car park and I played the Doctor Kildare bit quite well. Had fish and chips with Graham washed down with cherry brandy - watched a lewd 'Carry On' film.

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Monday September 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

The tap room today is like a fading, rural cinema. Old John, Joan and I watching Basil Rathbone in the ancient version of The Hound of the Baskerville's. Janet worked. Stone dead. I kept a stealthy eye on J's activities. Ally came down at 10 to sit with Geoff and Phyllis. Later toasties in bed. Still reading Ridley's Henry VIII. It's poor - I'd say.

Horribly wet. Quiet here. Speculation all day as to who has been axed from the Cabinet. The BBC and ITV reported just who had been promoted or dismissed before any news came out of No. 10. Everything is leaked nowadays. Leon Brittan is Secretary of State, DTI. Douglas Hurd becomes Home Secretary. Poor Tom King goes to Ulster. Peter Rees and the sports minister are sacked, and so is Patrick Jenkin. The new employment secretary is Lord Young. No recall for Cecil Parkinson's Disease. Thank God. What a smarmy little spiv he is without doubt. No big changes at the top. Willie (Whitelaw), Geoffrey (Howe) and Quentin (Hailsham) remain in place. Is this the team that will lead us to victory in 1987/88? Watch N.B. Tebbit. He is party chairman and Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster but he's the one at Margaret (Thatcher's) heels if you ask me.

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Sunday September 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Two staff came in at 12. I was supposed to be hideously hungover and dying but felt very good considering. We sat waiting for Marlene and Frank to come but they didn't show. Little Sammy behaved so well yesterday. Debbie did look wan to say the least and I think Sam gave her one of his operatic performances. The poor girl handled him though. Last night he was still awake at 9:30 and Jacq gave him a tour of all the rooms in the house to calm him. He must have thought we had abandoned him.

Mum was so missed yesterday. I felt dejected. I do this at family gatherings now. Dad did very well. It must have been painful. Mum and Dad were married at St Lawrence Church 31 years ago. 

Today is the birthday of dear Roy Barnes and Martyn Cole.

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Saturday August 31, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Hilda: blue.

Wet day. The marriage of Diane Gadsby and Paul Anthony Edwards at Pudsey St Lawrence. Ally went off at 8:30am to have her hair trimmed whilst Sammy and I walked to the park to play on the wet fixtures. The slide was especially fast and Sam went down like the launching of the Queen Mary. Over to Pudsey at 11:30 to deposit Samuel with Debbie. Then to the Butchers Arms to be joined by Lynn, Dave, Sue & Pete. Saw Rob. The girls say that Dad disapproves of visiting the pub before the church, and has gone on to the parish church alone. Oh dear. We went to Mabel's to park the car and then we walked over to the church. A touching service. Diane in an off-the-shoulder number. Lots of wind. A tortuous wait afterwards whilst the photographer pratted around in the park with the happy couple. We all stood around like plums. Eleanor was wearing a black hat and today I could see Mum in her. Hilda in blue. To the reception at the Baron, Idle, with Marlene, Frank and Mabel. Charlotte Nora attended with John & Janette. Poor Hayley, a bridesmaid, was overcome by it all, and wailed throughout. An intermission followed the food. We came home at 6, or 7, after visiting Wilsby briefly. Jacq and Ian came to babysit. We left them gin, ale, prawns, chocs, &c. Returned to the Baron. A discotheque, but with a slow bar. There was a swimming pool, supposedly barricaded off , but an obvious target for youthful, drunken revelry if ever I saw one. Needless to say at midnight the bridegroom was submerged. Dad, in a corner, had a weep with Mabel. Home to see Jacq and Ian at about 1am.

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Friday August 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Full Moon

Stocktake. The nameless, idiot stocktaker appeared at 11 and stayed until 3. What a pillock. M.R. Dalison is his name. Ally loathes him. He was wearing a wide 3ft 6ins velvet tie. Incompetence abounded. We ended up with a £99 surplus, but didn't feel happy. Sam Smiths must be insane employing this chap.

Fun and games here. At the end of the evening the highly-pitched singing concubine of the George Cole look-alike, Ron (tap room) decided to faint prostrate upon the floor, spilling ale, and causing a wave of excitement among the regulars. There she was, wide-eyed, apparently suffering from respiratory problems. I had to use my head and act quickly. "Outside and on to the moor" said I, not wanting a stiff on the premises at 11:15pm. So, outside she went to lay 'in state' upon one of the picnic tables, and waiting for the arrival of an ambulance. I shut up shop and retired. ____.

Thursday August 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

John called in this evening with Peter Mather, of all people, and they had a few (drinks) in the bar discussing days gone by. Peter is very unchanged. He still lives with Donald and Vera and shows no signs of forming a permanent heterosexual relationship. His sister, Lynne, is heavy with child and due on Oct 2. Blood pressure, &c. Donald and Vera still struggle to accept her aged, divorced husband. The man has money though. They spend six months in New Zealand and six months in Ilkley, &c. He is, as they say, into sheep. Or is it wool? They left at 11. The news is that the PM is going to re-shuffle the government next week. Will Leon Brittan succeed Quintin (Hogg) as Lord High Chancellor of Gt Britain? Poor old Q is 77.

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Wednesday August 28, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dray day. I was dropped an 18 gallon of cider short  and so I phoned transportation immediately and was told they would come back to me, but didn't. This put me in a foul mood on my so-called day off. We went to Bradford at 11 and lunched at Club Street. We went to the Paris boutique at Rawdon where Ally spent £35. Shopped in Bradford. Ally bought pink shoes and accessories for Saturday (wedding). On at 3:30 to Hilda's with crockery for Diane and Tony's polypin (36 pints for £22). All subdued. Tony was busy working. Ally had a coffee with Hilda and I took Samuel into the garden to play with the dog. I think of all the generations of Wilson descendants who have played in this garden. Samuel was very sweet and played with a bag of clothes pegs and sat upon the old swing. Diane came in at 5:45. Back to the Moorhouse for tea. Janet is back from Ballykelly, near Mullaghnmore. _____________.

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Tuesday August 27, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Abominably quiet. Les Gledhill and Donna Lea appeared at 12:30 for the silly area manager handing over ceremony, which passed off smoothly. No fisticuffs over the salted peanuts as at the last historic handing over of power. LG is a sarcastic old dog, and should be ignored. He must think we are doing well, or he would have come down on us sharpish.

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Monday August 26, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Bank Holiday in UK (except Scotland)

The usual Bank Holiday blues. A complete flop. Ally went over to Lynn's to Thomas's birthday party which commenced at 2:30. Others there included Sue's boys and Pam kids, and the Riddells from next door, &c. I lay on the bed for an hour, consulting this tome and watching 'The Making of Superman III'. Ridiculous. They even make films about making films now. I opened at 7pm. Quiet, except for the fact that Jacq , Ian and Trixie rolled in at 9:30 and stayed until after 2am. Trixie is such a 'good time dancing girl' as they say. She recently lost her driving licence and was fined £400. A bit steep, don't you think? Jacq and Ian are to marry at Seacroft Church with some panoply on March 22 next, and afterwards at the Mercury, Garforth. Jacq will become Mrs Cawood. We stood at the bar after time. Trixie says she can smell fertiliser, but we put it down to the fresh cellar paint. _________.

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