Sunday August 22, 1976

10th after Trinity. Lynne wakes me at 9 o'clock to say bye bye. She's wearing her new jeans and looks fantastic. I give her a peck on the lips and fall back into a coma for a couple of hours. Lynn wakes me at 11.30 to say CB is on the phone. Christine says I'm a "lazy bugger" and says it's the second time she's tried to phone today. She went out with David L last night, but says she is depressed about something. She even said she wanted to drown herself in the bath. God!

After a cooked breakfast, and clad in my new jeans, and 'winkle pickers' I go for a walk over the top and to Hawksworth village. Carole and I always walked on that path and my mind drifts back to those days. I think of last night's sighting of Carole. I remember one moment just before the end when I suddenly went cold feeling I was being watched with some intensity. I looked into the mirror behind the bar and could see Carole's eyes glued on me in the midst of the Martini and whisky optics. A horrible, sad moment.

I sit for a while on a gate and look down to Menston village and the grounds of Highroyds. The earth is so parched and un-English in appearance. Trees are brown and dead. This country has not experienced anything like this since before records were first kept 250 years ago. I take it all in because I will probably never see anything like it again.

Sit with Sue and Peter on the lawn. Lynn makes tea in readiness for Mum & Dad who get back [from Cumbria] at 7pm with cousins David and Edward [Uncle H's sons if you don't already know]. Haven't seen either of them since 1970 or so, but neither are really changed. Mum and Dad take them home to Wakefield at 8.30, but they're coming back to see us for the weekend of September 10/11.

See the film 'El Cid' until 10.30 and then watch a Bridget Bardot film until after midnight.

-==-

Sunday February 23, 1975

2nd in Lent. Up at 11.00am. See in the Sunday papers that the revolting Communist rag The Morning Star is in possession of certain papers, government papers too, relating to the personal share holdings of the Queen and other members of the Royal Family. The poor Queen will be distraught with grief. This country makes me sick. The shear lack of decency and manners shown by the Press emphasises too much the need for censorship, and interrogation and torture of all newspaper editors, and the need for certain people, who shall be nameless, to go down to the headquarters of certain annonymous socialist newspapers and reduce them to nothing more than rubble and ashes. May the Morning Star and all who serve in her be eternally damned. Amen.

Chicken for lunch, and then in keeping with the traditional Sunday afternoon we all go and sit listening to the Jimmy Savile programme on the radio. Don't really know what's going on tonight. John of course is going off to the Hare with Naomi, and Chris has mentioned the pictures, but I'm on the verge of bankruptcy at this moment in time, but I'd rather not discuss anything involving financial topics.

Before tea I cut John's hair. Yes, he finally decided to hand it all over to the National Trust, and I am sure that the national will be eternally grateful. John and Naomi go out, but I stay in with Mum. Sue is at Peter's and Lynn and Dave are at the pictures. Come to bed at about 12.30 after seeing a Bridget Bardot film. John created a sensation with his hair in the pub, and says the general opinion of the gang was a favourable one.

-==-