Friday December 29, 1978

New Moon 19:36

Margaret made a cup of milky tea and I was almost sick over Fieldhead Road. Snow and ice. Susan and Peter brought me home at 11:30am. I collapsed into bed.

Mum woke me at 4:30 for a curry. I then laid in a chair and stared glumly into the television set. Do you know I haven't been into a pub for a drink of alcohol for almost a week? Am I perhaps cracking up?

Mummy seems to think I am exceptionally quiet but why should I always be acting like a circus act or member of the Royal Shakespeare Company? I just want solitude and quiet. Peter and Susan are in a similar frame of mind.

Dad took to his bed at 8pm saying he had 'flu. Mum doesn't look much better.

On the hosiery counter until Day of Judgement

Poor Uncle Albert died 9 years ago today at Pudsey. I remember crying like a baby whilst doing my paper round. Isn't death a useless, wasteful end? God should perhaps devise a way whereby at the age of 70 everybody goes instead to work on the hosiery counter at British Home Stores, or take up Involuntary Service until the Day of Judgement. Think how beneficial we all would be to the economy? No, on second thoughts, I'd rather just fester away.

When you think about it he (God) has everything worked out, hasn't he?

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Saturday December 21, 1974

The events of last night were hilarious & fantastic. So fantastic that conveying what passed down here on this historic paper can never do them justice. All I need do is inscribe herein that I went to Wikis with Christine on Dec 20, 1974, and I will re-live those hours over and over again in minute detail. Received a Christmas card from Christine this morning and I think it's just my luck to be over fond of an engaged young lady. Will I ever be successful in love?

Dave slept on our floor all night, and managed to be up at 7 to drive Lynn to Bradford. He stays for breakfast, then lunch, and then takes me shopping in Guiseley for a few odds and sods for Mother. After lunch David arrives. He has a few laughs with John in the sick room before taking Mr Baker and myself off on a final present buying spree to Bradford. We're in town all afternoon and manage to get most things we wanted. I buy Mother a bowl from Brown Muffs which is a bizarre looking thing - something resembling an overstarched upturned handkerchief. Nobody really knows whether they like it or not. Go see Lynn in British Home Stores, and she is still rather pale and washed-out after last night. Dave's bought her a silver locket for £6, a bottle of pernod for £4, and a pair of black, sexy briefs for 50p. That lot adds up to over £10! It must be love or something. Don't go out this evening. Chris is astounded when I tell him. All he can say, over and over again is: "don't you realise it's the Saturday before Christmas?"

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