Wednesday February 22, 1978

The traffic on New Road Side woke me at 6:30. Hungover. Predictable really. Christine's Mum went off to work hailing her goodbyes at me as I lay ~ almost in state ~ on her settee. She looked older. I haven't seen her since Mr Braithwaite died in May.

CB and Honey.

Christine was up and looked just as she did last night. I think she has an 'A' Level in 'How to Drink to Excess Without Suffering the Repercussions'. She buggered about under her car bonnet whilst I was entertained by Honey, the gorgeous doggy. It's a Golden Retriever with a bit of Alsatian thrown in. We laughed when CB told me she wanted to call it 'Spot'.

A cup of coffee and mug of orange juice gave me a boost and at 8 I bid my fond farewells and cleared off on a green bus to the YP. Having a bus stop at the garden gate must be bliss. Or is it?

CB gave me a letter that she intended posting today and I read it on my short, cold journey into Leeds. I roared with laughter and tears trickled down my icy cheeks at her wondrous composition. The girl is the greatest!

At the office Sarah and Eileen pulled my leg all morning about my stay at Horsforth. Mind you, to them I suppose it appeared more than it actually was. I left at 2:00 because I was in no fit state to do any work. My eye balls were hanging over the sides of my sockets.


Found my way home in the mist and fog and spent the remainder of the day in confinement at the fireside. For each second that I managed to keep my eyelids from caving in I thought I deserved a Duke of Edinburgh Award, preferably of the gold variety. Sadly, however, my courage went unrecognised. It's typical of the age in which we live that good British 'graft' is taken for granted.

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Sunday July 31, 1977

Delia Collis.

8th after Trinity. Luncheon party at Sarah's. I went at about 1 o'clock. A hot afternoon with wine, and plenty of it. Delia's food was wonderful as usual. Haddock flan, pizza pie, salmon mousse, cheesecake, &c. Delia is a marvellous woman. She knows I'm a good friend to Sarah. She says we have so much in common. I have always thought so. Sarah must think the same. Saw the new shih tzu dog, Sophie. Delia had wanted to call it Daisy May.

Went for a dip in Richard's swimming pool next door and John MacMurray ferried me to the YP at 5. Coming home the taxi was late. Didn't get in until nearly 1am.

-=-

Saturday May 28, 1977

Don't get out of bed until 12 noon but when I do I feel better. Still slightly 'tingly' but better at least. I shudder at the sight of Lynn, clad only in a scanty bikini, laying prostrate on the lawn. 'Don't do it!' I yell from the window, but my pleas go unnoticed as the powerful suns beats down upon my poor, vulnerable sister. Will our roles of last night be reversed and will I be nursing my sister tonight? Time can only tell.

Peter the Alsatian.

Ring Tony and he and Martyn call at 12.30. To the Black Bull in Otley and then the Bowling Green. Very hot day. Feel it penetrating my shirt (the sun, that is). Move on to Otley Show which is something of a dead loss. Nothing to look at but hot dog stands and beer tents. Watch Alsatian dogs competing in some ridiculous charade, and unbelievably the winning dog was called 'Peter'. A dog called Peter?  Peter the iguana - yes, Peter the Tortoise, yes. Peter the budgie, yes. But Peter the Alsatian, no.

Lynn & Dave

Tony comes back for tea and at 8, or possibly 9, we go for Martyn and then to Skipton again. Not very enjoyable and it's back to the Rose & Crown for 10.30. Phil Hewitt and the clan were in - no comment.

Back to Tony's flat. Tony and Martyn fall asleep leaving me with a large glass of Scotch and 'Saturday Night at the Mill' on TV. Oh God, I think, what a bore. But Tony was soon awake and he took Martyn home and then came dashing back and took me to Il Trovatore, where we find Lynn and Dave B. Joined by Ruth and Linda. All back to the flat where we sat all night just talking. The girls left at 3am and Lynn and Dave at 4am. Tony went to bed at 6 and I sat in a chair dozing on and off until 11am. Am I perhaps insane? No doubt.

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