Wednesday July 19, 1978

Dave G goes frying chickens with Jed and the Rick Organisation. Ken was greatly impressed and he offered Dave a position with them next year. He didn't commit himself. He must be raving mad. I'd leap at the chance to evacuate England and so too would Dave when it comes down to it.

Back at the hotel Dave asked me: "How about next year, then?". I was stunned really because I never thought they'd accept me but Dave seems to think they were so impressed with his display of 'chefmanship' that we could both come out next season on our own terms. Who knows?

I can see difficulties ___________________.

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Saturday June 10, 1978

Sun rises 04:44 Sun sets 21:16

Birthday of Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh

At 3:30pm I met Jacq in Guiseley and we tracked down John and Maria at Ridgeway. Maria's parents are visiting Hugh in Canada. Jimmy Mac took some photos of me and Jacq and that was the only bit of excitement other than watching JPH attack an ice lolly. Maria was looking tanned but I was told it's painted on. She'd forgotten to do one of her legs. From 4 until after 6 we sat with John, Maria and Pamela Horrocks (nee Moffat). I was bored but the ladies didn't notice my yawns through the blanket of smog and coal dust thrown out by their endless 'assembly line' of cigarettes. Jacq must have had 10.

By 6pm my polluted lungs could take no more and I dragged Jacq back to Pine Tops for sandwiches. At 8pm Jim and Margaret came and after watching 'The Good Life' on the BBC we went with them and Mama and Papa to a barbecue on Carlton Lane (at Penny's Farm?). Alcohol flowed like pig swill. Our party managed to consume most of it. Sue, Pete, Gus and Chippy were there. The food was mediocre but the company was interesting with such old cronies as John Little, Joan Taylor (Kevin's mother), &c. In fact, all the old Silverdale mob appeared. Jacq, Sue, Pete and I were among the last to leave and Mum and Dad tottered out (both really legless) shortly before us. We were in high spirits. We got home safely enough ( I don't know how) and we immediately plugged in the headphones, selected a suitable record and poured out of the lager.

Mum was locked upstairs in the WC for two or three hours (Oh dear) and so Jacq was forced, much against her will, to urinate in our well stocked herbaceous border. How embarrassing. I had to do the same, but on opening the kitchen door I espied the car abandoned on the drive and I was temporarily distracted from the call of nature. It was the car. It had a huge hole in the right hand wing and a considerable amount of paint was missing. Oh no! But who drove home?

It was almost dawn when Mum alighted from her watery throne and she admits the culprit is she, although she cannot recall striking anything. Obviously, it was a dry stone wall. Dad, who had been too pissed, had handed her the car keys.

Mum was soon in floods of tears. Jacq always sees her in this sorry condition.

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