Wednesday January 4, 1978

_.The Christmas tree came down tonight and the festival of Yuletide is well and truly done for another year.

Marita: premonition.

Marita gave me a lift to Rawdon from Wellington Street and she told me that her grandfather had died on Dec 27, and that she had a premonition of the event whilst at David's on Boxing Day. How can such a phenomena be explained? When the nursing home phoned on the morning after the party she knew before answering the call just what the news would be. Weird really.

_______. You'll be pleased to know my scars have just about healed over. My nose is slightly marked at the bridge but elsewhere is mended. Dom Melville's final interview with my assailant was a travesty of justice. In fact he took the side of the lad who assaulted me, saying he (Kirk) 'is a nice, quiet lad.'



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Thursday December 29, 1977

_.I have applied for a job in the reference library at YTV. Yes, I put a letter together and sealed the envelope and have every intention of leaving the YP if I'm accepted. Four years is long enough in a dead end job. It's about time I joined the 'rat race' and earned lots of money. In 15 years time when I'm an OBE and making regular appearances on the Morecambe & Wise Show I bet the management at the YP will be kicking themselves.

Eric Sykes in Charley's Aunt.

Saw Eric Sykes in 'Charley's Aunt' which was good. Dom Melville, QC, came to see me. Do I have a cat in Hell's chance of obtaining damages from my assailant? Dom says he will do everything in his power to find out but bringing an assault case against the bounder (Kirk) may mean that I too could also be bound over to keep the Queen's peace. Me! And all I did was to fall over and bleed quietly! No chance. Anyway, I do have qualms about dragging it through the courts. I don't fancy being dragged in chains before Donald Best, JP, and neither do I relish the thought of reading my name in the pages of my dear newspaper. If Dom can simply frighten the yob to death I shall be eternally happy. Dom says he will go see Kirk on Sunday night, and so he'll be quaking for New Year.

Watched a ghost story and went, laughing, to bed.

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Sunday September 25, 1977

16th after Trinity. John's 21st birthday. ________.WE ARE A UNITED FAMILY.

John: 21st birthday.

Decline and Fall.

Joy went back to Leeds last night and is going to visit Paul (with the handbag) in Halifax today. Jacqui slept here on the settee. We had breakfast at about 11.30 and John came up afterwards and we celebrated his birthday with a few bottles of wine, which saw us through until about 2. Dom(inic) Melville, whose birthday was yesterday, joined us. Jacqui demonstrated the art of tap dancing on our kitchen floor which was hilarious. Lynn loved every minute of it.

John (who had gone home at 12) returned at 2 in pouring rain to commandeer Pete and I for a spot of labouring work. We dismantled a porch and carried it from Netherfield Road to some remote part of Guiseley and helped to erect it there. It was his birthday present. (The labouring). I haven't given him a proper present yet. He quite understood. He called me a 'bastard'. The three of us did a lot of laughing. John was especially cheerful.

Peter and I returned to Pine Tops and had a late lunch, or tea. Jacqui had a pleasant chat with Mum and Lynn. We watched TV and I refused to leave my chair until after 8.

Joy returned at about 7.30. She hadn't been to Halifax and instead her lover came to Leeds. The poor soul has no sense of direction. They left at about 8.30 and I promised to go to Muswell Hill on October 8. Jacqui is a nice girl.

In bed tonight reading 'Decline and Fall' by Evelyn Waugh. A very good novel. In fact I was sat laughing in bed. Ho Ho Ho.

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Thursday September 8, 1977

Miserable bloody weather. I had a rare half day and managed to escape at 12. At lunchtime I went with Sue, Peter and Uncle H to the Commercial where we had roast beef and dripping sandwiches and a few pints. Mum and Dad came in at 2. Annie (Lindley) sat on my knee and we laughed our heads off.

Annie Lindley.

Uncle H, being alcoholic, is pissed as a frog after three pints, and to make matters worse he bought a bottle of whisky from the bar to take back for a further session.

Later we were joined by Edith and Ernest and knocked back ginger beer, wine, whisky, lager and beer. By 7 o'clock we were all canned and some of the party were complaining of hunger. Within minutes we were at the Hare (where Judith was playing at barmaids) on our way to the Flying Pizzatoo at Burley-in-Wharfedale. The restaurant was jam packed and we seemed to be waiting hours for our food.

Harry's changed a good deal since April. He's older and not half the fun he once was.

We all went back to Edith and Ernest's at about 11 for glasses of his cloudy pink champagne, but the end of the night was ruined by Uncle Harry's behaviour. At 12.30 he stormed out, packed his pathetic belongings and was away down the lane with his dog, Tan, telling me to 'piss off' and that he will never come back to Yorkshire. Isn't it a terrible thing? Mum came home with a raging headache.

Dom(inic) Melville arrived at some late hour to say he had seen Harry walking towards Rawdon and wanted to know if there was anything he could do.

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