Showing posts with label Hon. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hon. Show all posts

20200408

Wednesday January 9, 1980

_. Well, here I am sitting in my sturdy little Anderson shelter waiting for the arrival of the Ruskies, clutching my mug of cocoa [made with rationed dried milk powder], my mind a seething mass of uncertainty.Will they, for instance, allow me to keep my job in the YP library. I think not. I suppose it will be fifteen hours a day in a munitions factory, or if, for some reason I decline to assist the occupying powers perhaps they'll make me spend the rest of my days at the offices of the Telegraph & Argus. A terrifying prospect. The one good thing that will undoubtedly emerge from our annexation with the USSR is an end to the national iron and steel strike that's currently bringing Port Talbot, Abervan and Rodley to their knees. The Ruskies don't tolerate strikes, I'll wager. President Carter says it will all be over by Easter. By that I mean the Third World War and not the steel strike.
Hon Mrs Lane Fox

I was kept busy this morning by the demise of the Hon Mrs Lane Fox, of Bramham Park. The old girl was the elder sister of the Hon Lady Parkinson [wife of our ayatollah, Sir Kenneth Parkinson], and of the Hon Mrs Hargreaves, wife of Brigadier Kenneth 'Arsegrease', former Lord Lieutenant of the West Riding. Won't it be a sombre Lit Lunch tomorrow?

Dave G phoned at 8:15. I promise to go visit on Saturday. My New Year 'good will' visit. Ally will of course be entertaining Graham and Charlotte.  She, the precious object of my affections, phoned aft
er 'Fawlty Towers'. Two pieces of news: the first is that she has taken an evening job at the Belfry restaurant at Bolton Junction from January 18, and is to do Friday evenings and Sunday lunches. This will help finance her increased commitments, which have brought pain. The other news is that she had laid hands on a 1980 Royal Albert Country Roses calendar plate, which we are giving Mum & Dad for their birthday. She is bringing it over tomorrow evening.

Bed at 12 o'clock.

-=-




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...