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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
20240501
Saturday May 19, 1984
20240429
Friday May 18, 1984
Moorhouse Inn
'Big Mick' the pot bellied darts player with Hells Angel tendencies went to bed last night and died. His wife regularly babysits for Maureen. The tap room was a sad place this afternoon and all the darts team appeared wearing black as a mark of respect. It must have been Big Mick's ticker. Marie Barnes and Mags called in. It was a joy to see them. We are going to the Linthorpe to see them in a few weeks. Jane and Margaret worked tonight. Edna, perched at the bar, has a face like a wet weekend.
Daily Trivia: a son has been born to Lord and Lady Ralph Percy, a male heir for the dukedom of Northumberland. The eldest son (of the current duke) is unmarried and weird looking. Sadly, two dukedoms are on the cards to expire by about 1990. Portland and Newcastle. Such a pity. Perhaps Mrs T will end her days as Duchess of Grantham. She will soon have won four general elections on the trot. Not even Disraeli managed that.
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Thursday May 17, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Bert. |
At 3:30 we went to Linfood Cash & Carry and spent £40 on gigantic jars of tartare sauce, &c. Bulk buying is fun. To Club Street for half an hour where we ate bars of chocolate and sipped lemonade. Samuel, sitting on my knee, smells like an old sheep. He had eaten braised lamb splodge for lunch. Such a cute boy he is. Back to the Moorhouse for 6:30. Dog tired. I could sleep for a week. One needs the stamina of an ox in this game.
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Wednesday May 16, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Overcast day. Phoned Susan. Mum is on her way to us, she says, with a surprise visitor they are collecting at the station. It's Uncle Bert. They arrived at 2:30 having agreed to collect Bert at Leeds Railway Station but as usual paths were crossed and Bert is still at large, wandering the streets on his artificial limb. We had a traditional Mandarine Napoleon. Dad bounced Samuel on his knee and flew him through the air like a bird. They went at 5 to find Bert and take him to Horton. Somehow I cannot see this visit having a satisfactory conclusion.
Marita. |
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Tuesday May 15, 1984
Full Moon
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Dr Hampson says he will not resign his seat but his PPS job has gone. The PM is reported to be livid that he kept his arrest secret for 10 days and she first heard of it when she opened her Sunday Telegraph at Chequers. Very lapse of the Home Office.
Samuel giggles properly now. He has rushes of high wind too. We put the blame on his chicken dinner and chocolate pudding. His nappies look hideous these days. Really grown up, if you get my meaning.
The Moorhouse. |
To Leeds with the pram at 3:30. A pleasant walk. Dead tonight. Jane looked bored stiff. A good manager would keep her working flat out, but instead I went upstairs and watched 'Dallas'.
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Monday May 14, 1984
Moorhouse Inn
A hot day.
Bessie phoned to say that Andrew is agreeable about the 'godfather proposal' and Ally reassured her that the boy doesn't have a large solo performance at the christening. At 3:30 I went up Dewsbury Road for a breath of fresh air and afterwards we had bars of chocolate and cups of tea. Ally opened up at 5:30. Mum phoned to say they will call on us on Wednesday after visiting Susan and Lynn. Why? We are seeing them next Monday, and Leeds is a bit of a detour after visiting Guiseley.
Dr Hampson. |
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Sunday May 13, 1984
3rd Sunday after Easter
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Uncle Peter. |
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Saturday May 12, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Sunshine. I didn't go downstairs but sent Ally down to do half an hour in the bar with Audrey.We have decided to escape for the afternoon and the chosen victims on whom we have decided to descend are the Gadsbys of Wilsby. The whole bunch of them usually gather there after shopping at Asda and we can do them all in one swoop. Sure enough we found them assembled and arrived just in time for lunch. Little Hayley was trundling around in a trolley-type thing. She is very much like Karen. Steve is no longer driving for Burtons and has purchased an insurance round in Bramley. He didn't sound toon enthusiastic about it. Samuel was entranced by Hayley. It must be a weight off his mind knowing that he isn't the only tiny person around. At 3:30 wewent on to Guiseley. Susan sprawled in the garden like a beached whale. Christopher, full of hell, was ransacking the kitchen. Pete calmly watching a film midst the debris. Nexxt time we see her Sue will be cuddling a new pink bundle. On to Lynn's. Sat in the garden admiring the new erection. Sandwiches on the lawn. Frances came and sat upon my knee. Lynn very brown from the constant worshipping of the sun.Back in Leeds for 7. We were packed out.
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20240428
Friday May 11, 1984
Moorhouse Inn
Ally's back ache is much the same. This is a worry because Mum has suffered with her back down the years. Childbearing is the cause of this. At least we have a good hard bed on which to rest our weary bones. Soft modern comforts must have contributed to ther numerous dodgy backs up and down this nation.
A day of no particular excitment. Ally took to bed at a reasonable hour to ease her pain. Is the pub combined with a new baby too much? She says not, but we do lead an exhausting way of life. Just look at the easy time had by Lynn and Sue. Ally says the life of a typical 'housewife' would bore her to death.
When will we see LG? It's been a month now with no sign of him. However, it must mean he is happy with us.
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Thursday May 10, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11
Bitterly cold in and out. More in than out in fact. Have I told you our boiler has croaked? Well it has and subsequently we have a layer of frost in the flat. Snow on the top of the wardrobe, &c. Are you getting the picture? We breakfasted around the fire, the gas fire. Downstairs is no better. Old men wrapped in overcoats sipping ice-cold ale. I shudder to watch. Karen is off attending her sister's 'hen party'. I am with Margaret (Milne). Ally upstairs ironing. She hasn't been downstairs for ages. Samuel is so time consuming. He sleeps less and less. Food too, he's something of a pig. Financially tonight is the most dead since our arrival. Unperturbed to bed. Ally has back-ache. She must get to a doctor.-=-
20240426
Wednesday May 9, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c
Still dull outside. Who cares? Our alarm clock is on the blink and refuses to sound off. Samuel laid patiently peeping through his bars and his slumbering Mama refused to follow my example of climbing out in the chill of the bedroom. The brewery phoned to say the dray isn't coming until tomorrow. This is no trouble.
Samuel almost sat unaided. He wobbled for a few seconds and then keeled over. Just after 2 we escaped to Bradford where Ally left me at Club Street to go for her hair doing ~ a perm. She was back at 5 looking like she did two years ago. A crinkly fringe, &c. At Club St until 7-ish when we returned to the pub where we went unmolestered by the bar staff. We spent a few hours upstairs together. TV abysmal.To bed with Noel Coward's journal. He was certainly well in with the Queen Mother. She has a leaning, they say, for homosexual company, a comment which certainly upset her private secretary Sir Martin Gilliat. I can see his point. Ally, all curls, on the pillow next to me.
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Tuesday May 8, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Overcast. We intended turning over a new leaf today by getting up at 7am and running an organised machine, only to sleep through the alarm clock and wake at 8:05. We had the usual dash around. Ally was grumpy and grumbling about everything and I stood at the kitchen window watching her muttering to herself and into the Hunslet horizon.
Samuel wants to crawl. Lay him on a rug and he'll kick furiously, but he has yet to build up enough energy to move. He has the right idea though. Ally has given him baby rice and mixed fruit slop which he eats splendidly. He is clad in woollies from Bessie and a chunky polo necked sweater resembling a lifeboat man or a whaler and not a 17 week old baby.
A good day for luncheons. We took the vast sum of £14 on food.
Opening the flood barrier. |
Monday May 7, 1984
Bank Holiday in UK
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Bitterly cold. A bank holiday instituted some years ago by a Labour government. May Day indeed. It all shreiks of Joseph Stalin to me.
Samuel woke at 5:30 wailing in his cot. Ally and I squabbled about who loves him the most and who should pick him up. Needless to say, I do. At 7:30 I went downstairs and came up for breakfast an hour later. Frank and Bessie had slept heavily and B thinks a cold is about to erupt. They were at Susan Hellier's wedding on Saturday and endured a meagre reception at the Potters Heron. Sausage rolls, &c. The aristo neighbour on Chilland Lane is now identified as Robert (Robin) Napier, heir to a baronetcy. Frank says he's a drip.
See in the Daily Telegraph that Ronald Reagan is related to all the crown heads of Europe. They always seem to link US presidents to the old Irish kings ~ you know, Brian Boru, and the likes. Our Sovereign lady is is one of George Washington's nearest living relatives. Beat that.A flat lunch. ______. A miserable crowd all wrapped up like sherpas. As you know our boiler is defunct. Poor Samuel will be blue. F & B left at 4:30 or so. Good old Frank did his usual chores, fixed the vacuum cleaner and hung pictures, &c. Bessie bought Samuel a pelican and enough knitting to clothe Samuel until he's 5. A quiet Bank Holiday extension until 11:30pm. So many of our customers are OAPs who go home to bed at 9:30.
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20240425
Sunday May 6, 1984
2nd Sunday after Easter
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11
Dismal. The little warm spell has passed by.That's summer over and done with. Down to the furthermost depths of my cellar to swill, swab and shuffle. Who knows when LG will call upon us again.
Ally excited about seeing her Mum and Dad. They got here for 2:30 bearing gifts of plenty for Samuel, who was clad in his Prince William-style romper suit. We all think Samuel is the double of Frank but they don't see it, and Bessie says he looks more like her cousin Evelyn Braithwaite, who ever that might be. Both look fatter and they blame the surfeit of banquets.
We ate an enormous luncheon ~ roast beef &c. Collapsed afterwards. I opened up at 8 (?) and then Maureen and Jane appeared and I floated off back to join the others.Samuel, aware of the visitors, refused to go to bed and grumbled furiously about this intrusion into our peaceful domesticity. At 10o'clock I went down to find the place packed to the doors and both bar staff in the cellar trying to connect a barrel of Sovereign keg. It was frantic. When all had gone we had cheese toasties and showed F & B around the downstairs. Felt whacked.
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20240420
Saturday May 5, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Poor Diana Dors has run down the curtain and joined the choir invisible. Aged 52, she has suffered from cancer. We lazed around this morning. Ally sat amid the debris of breakfast reading chunks from 'The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole', newly arrived from our Book Club.
Club Street. |
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Friday May 4, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
At lunchtime Ally took Samuel to the clinic and had him weighed. He is 12lb 10oz. Ally says the clinic is full of screaming, hysterical babies and Samuel just sits amidst them calm and collected with a curious look on his face. Samuel had a spoonful of rice ____. He chewed it for a bit and took the lot. And so the weaning process has begun.
June, Joe Cullen's tart, was in the back bar swilling vodka as if Mr Chernenko has launched his attack on the west and we only have eighteen minutes to oblivion. She will have to go in the path of her barred out august paramour. Tonight, Ally spotted them groping together in a car in our carpark, but they made no attempt to enter the premises. I told Maureen we will have to scrap her 11-12 daily shift and that I will do it. Instead I asked her to 'open up' at 5:50 as from next week, for two days. This will work better for us because early evenings can be tiresome. This evening Ally stayed upstairs. Frank McCarron came in and announced that Diana Dors is fighting for her life. Poor thing. An up an coming rock group, called The Cult, who inhabit the tap room, asked Jane to give them a lift home, presumably for a gang bang. She declined. Bed at 12 after a cheese toastie.-=-
Thursday May 3, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11
Samuel is clad in his new gear. What a beauty. He had a spoon of Delrosa syrup.
Busy in the bars. Another riotous 'Giro Day'. More beer is spilled on the floor (by the customers) than consumed. The tap room looks like Lake Windermere. Ally went upstairs in a state of collapse and I battled on with Margaret and Karen. I ejected a pissed young pool payer who was infuriating everyone. For a while I thought a brawl might ensue.
The dear PM has been at the helm for 5 years today, and is said to be planning a third term from 1987/88. I think she could do it. I'd like to see her surpass Walpole.
Andrew: out of favour? |
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20240419
Wednesday May 2, 1984
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11
Mum. |
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Tuesday May 1, 1984
New Moon
Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Papa. |
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Monday April 30, 1984
Moorhouse Inn
Another warm one. At 2 in walked (Peter) Lazenby and Tony Harney (they had seen Michael Brown's poster on the back wall at the YP). Neither of them change at all. We sat at the bar in the tap room recalling the times we grovelled around Blackpool. I was always something of a celebrity of those debauched 'father's day' trips. Poor Pete asked if I knew Dave, his brother, was dead, and I muttered my sympathies. Six months on Pete still looks very moved by Dave's passing. They left at 3 promising a return visit.
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Saturday May 19, 1984
A warm, gentle day. Ally and I took off to town with Samuel at 1pm. We didn't take the pram and I carried baby for two hours, by the end...
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5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Samuel has a hairy back and shoulders, you know. I have to record these things because in ten years ...
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3rd Sunday after Epiphany 5, Club Street, Lidget Green, Bradford Baby slept until 6am which is amazing. Ally however woke at three and then...