_.Uncle Harry arrived this morning at dawn and I had an encounter with him in the steam filled bathroom. He is so thin, and emaciated, like Gandhi in fact.
To work really early, which shocked Kathleen. At lunchtime to Da Mario's with Sarah and Eileen, and had a good nosh, but spent almost four English pounds, far too excessive.
Tonight Uncle Harry wanted to eat fish and chips. The seclusion of a broken down caravan on the windswept coast of Cumbria is no place for an intelligent Yorkshireman wo actually understands the problems of the Middle East and Palestine. He should perhaps be President Carter's secretary of state. I was so impressed by his knowledge of the Balfour Treaty of 1922. Poor Harry like many Rhodeses is wasted. A life of ridiculous waste. Am I going in the same direction perhaps?
Jim, Margaret, Lynn, Dave and Ally came over. We all discussed the dreaded Yorkshire Ripper, and attacked again on Monday in Bradford. Ally seems to have taken it very much to heart. She's terrified.
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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 ...
Showing posts with label 1922. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1922. Show all posts
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Saturday September 28, 1985
South Wood Farm, Cotleigh, Devon South Wood Farm. Out of bed bright and early. Another sunny day. What a week we have had. Ally did the pac...

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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...