Monday March 28, 1977

More snow, hail and blizzards. I progress across Leeds resembling something similar to a yeti. (He is, of course, the nasty Abominable Snowman).

Yeti.

Work was uneventful, as usual.  Only Sarah, Eileen, and self. I rang Lynn about her driving test. (Cancelled because of the weather conditions). She says the experience is not unlike waiting to be executed by firing squad only to discover they're run out of bullets. I can well imagine. However, in my case the ammunition was plentiful.

Tonight at home. Auntie Mabel rang Mama to enquire about Lynn's test. Not wishing to be depressed by the BBC news I soaked in the bath for half an hour. Later saw a good film about the mafia - a black comedy - but the title escapes me.

Portland Vase.

Bed at 11.30. Did you know that Queen Elizabeth II is descended from a 19th century prime minister? Yes, in 1783 and 1807 he accepted the office from King George III. Who was he? I'll give you a clue. They named a vase after him. Another clue: he had the same name as a brand of cement. Yes, that's right you've guessed correctly. Signing off at 11.45pm precisely.








-=-

Tuesday March 22, 1977

Not discussing work other than to say we've been having some bother with Carol.

Margaret Thatcher: I don't fancy the idea of a woman PM

A good cartoon in the Daily Mail this morning on the subject of Margaret Thatcher, the Prime Minister and Mrs Indira Gandhi. Tomorrow we will know for certain whether we're in for a general election or not.

I don't fancy the idea of a woman PM but anything will be better than Callaghan. Even a gorilla will do. A right-wing gorilla though.

Spoke to Delia Collis this afternoon on the phone. She has invited me to tea on an date yet unknown but in the near future. Should be a laugh.

Chris Monckton: future Tory whip?

To the dentist at 5pm. I need a couple of fillings. No appointment until September. I can think of nothing worse than dentists. They should all be herded together and shipped to the Maldives, or perhaps the Outer Hebrides. On reflection it's probably a silly idea, but I'm not here merely to be sensible. Blimey, I'm not standing for parliament.

Chris Monckton is departing from the YP to become a PRO with the Conservative party. Should suit him well. One day I bet he's a Tory whip - in more ways than one. On the subject of the peerage, a duke saw fit to make an exit from his mortal role yesterday. Namely the Duke of Portland who was 84. Strangely enough the successor to this title is only a slip of a lad himself. In fact he's 88.

11:30pm. Nothing much more to report. The BBC is, at this very moment, going on and on about the revolting government. It angers me more and more. James Callaghan is no politician. How he has the cheek to crawl round the Liberal party at this stage is quite amazing. No, obscene is the word. Even Dad says it's disgusting. The shoddy way this country is governed! If I was an MP I'd admit defeat when it it staring me right in the face.

To bed with P.G. Wodehouse. An amusing book. No telephone calls tonight. Must ring the lads tomorrow.

-=-