___. Passion Sunday.
Out of bed before lunchtime which is something of an achievement for me at weekends. At 11:30 Mum and Dad drove Sue, Pete and I to Burley where we met Lynn and Dave, Trevor and his wife, and went over to the Red Lion for a 'few' drinks. Lynn was of course knocking back Pernod. [Trevor is Dave's workmate with the beard who drank Crème de Menthe with ice on Dave's stag night. Do you remember?] We had a good session until 2 but I felt strangely quiet. We adjourned to Lynn and Dave's for lunch and I demolished a couple of bottles of wine. I created a sensation by lighting a fire in the grate which seemed to amuse everyone. I was always a good fire-maker.
Trevor and his nameless wife disappeared at 5 and Mum and Dad came shortly afterwards, from Threshfield, to take us home. I had a raging, thumping, sickly headache and 'Carmen' by Bizet on BBC2 didn't help.
By 9:30 I felt ill and retired to bed where I went out like a light and only stirred slightly when Dad popped his head round the door. It's a combination of booze and booze, I think. Ah well, it's April.
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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 Bizet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bizet. Show all posts
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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...
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Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
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Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...