I don't feel like talking about work today. After all, there's more to life than bloody slogging away like a half wit and no further elaboration is needed.
At tea time I tell mother that her mother would have been 80 today. She says her mother was 60 when she died in 1957, and that she had been born in 1897. My records must be incorrect. It's a rotten shame that my grandma didn't live longer. My memories of her are very vague but I think I remember seeing her propped up in bed in what must have been the year of her death.
Lynne comes up at 9 o'clock and we go down to the Hare & Hounds. David and Lynn are in for the first time in months. John & Maria are very boisterous. Chris didn't really say much __________________. Lynne and I stood with Jimmy Macdonald and his so-called mate Bob, a repulsive freak who works in Bradford City Council Planning Dept - which is probably why he's unhinged. They talk about Balzac and other obscure 19th century authors. At 10.45 Lynne and I announce to the mob that we are going to Harrogate's Damn Yankee for a pizza. Nobody else felt inclined to join us and so off we went on our lonesome. The food is delicious and quite inexpensive. Lynne suggests I stay at Ty Gywn for the night and I fall in with her wishes. Peter was entertaining Richard Mair/Mayer/Mare/Mayre for coffee and after his departure Lynne and I sat for half an hour. Slept in a sleeping bag on Peter's bedroom floor.
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