A cultural evening again. I phoned Jacq at 9 this morning to ask if she fancied the theatre this evening and she said yes but I would have to subsidise her, of course. I agreed to go with Sarah and John Mac to see 'A Family' or 'The Family' starring Eleanor Bron and Paul Scofield at the Grand (Theatre) Leeds (tickets £2). I have no money, but who cares?
Sarah bought one of my 'House of Holroyd' shirts for £5 which, unethical it may have been, but it was the only way I could remain solvent this week.
Sarah took me to Ivory Towers at 4 and I had a massive tea of salad, strawberries and cream, chocolate sundae, &c. The poor shih tzu was violently sick on the lounge carpet, and then did something else, but I averted my eyes and my tea was unspoiled. Sarah laughed at my recumbent figure reclining in the arm chair.
John Mac came at 7 and we went to the Grand where I met Jacq. She says she loathed the play but I thought it was brilliant. _________.
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
Showing posts with label eleanor bron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label eleanor bron. Show all posts
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Tuesday October 8, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Cold. One of the tabloids says Prince Andrew has a new love in the shape of theatrical assistant Mandy Gough, 24. Tebbit: ske...

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Quinquagesima. By 4am only Judith, Kathryn and I are conscious. But when we decided to call it a day I realised with horror that my jacket a...
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...