Friday December 9, 1977

_.Sunny day. I ventured out of doors for the first time in over a week. Went to Leeds at 12 to collect my meagre £28. Disgusting for 1977, isn't it? Jim Callaghan should be flogged. Spent £30 in just over an hour. Christmas presents are the main drain on my finances. Bought John and Maria a picture; Lynn and Dave a set of kitchen weighing scales (Oh my Lord) amongst other things. Saw Marilyn, but otherwise my expedition passed by uneventfully. I also bought three records.

Home at 3. Ernest came to tea and Mum and I entertained him to drinks. He told me several hilarious lewd tales of his experiences in Crete during the war. Stories of lust and prostitution, &c. We both became quite pissed. Dear Mama took no part in this sordid orgy. At 5 she nipped out to see Dr Mellor (just a check up).

The Queen's

I phoned the LGI at tea time and they said Carole had just left. Thank God for that. However, is it just a Christmas break? The New Year will reveal all no doubt. It was wonderful to hear her. She was so overjoyed at getting out. Where do we go from here?

Phoned Peter Mather. We went to the Fox at 8:00pm. Joined by Tony and Martyn at 9:30. ______. From the Fox we went to the Queen's on Apperley Lane. Quite dead, as far as I can recall, and then onto Oakwood. I became abominably intoxicated and remember very little. I do recall coming out in the rain at 2:00am and devouring an Indian curry.

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Monday November 28, 1977

Eileen is still in hospital. Sarah is off sick. It's Kathleen's day off, and so only Carol J and I in the office. Not such a hectic day though and we refuse to panic and let the bastards get on top of us.

My unhealthy Barclaycard statement.

Jack Heath, who died on Tuesday, was cremated today. Most people went from the office just to get off work. ______.

Carole PHONED ME  this morning in marvellous spirits. It was wonderful to hear her sweet voice on the blower. I promise to call in and see her at 2:30. She looked like her mother today. Her face was round, which she put down to the steroids that they are pumping into her each day. She is very much back to normal though and because of this her mother was half as attentive. In fact the old girl disappeared onto another ward with a mug of cocoa to visit a less fortunate patient. I asked Carole where she plans on taking me when she gets out. It triggered off the usual story about why our relationship fell down in July. She seems to think it was all my fault and we had a whispered quarrel, not wishing to have a full argument whilst she's laid up hospitalised. My God she must be improving if she can oppose everything I say! Great, isn't it? I didn't mention __________whom I'm sure is the 'nigger in the wood pile' regarding Carole and I.

I left at 3:15 say I will see her tomorrow. She doesn't allow me to give her a parting kiss on the lips because she doesn't want me going back to the YP smothered in lipstick.

Edith's aunt has died in Luton and Mum and Dad are taking the Blackwells down tomorrow for a couple of days to sort out the estate. The old dear was 87 and died suddenly the other night in her sleep. Not a nice way to go. I'd like just a tiny, little warning, I think. No long, painful illness but a gentle reminder that my time is up.

Watched a Western on the BBC and played Patience. The family sat startled as I shuffled a deck of cards.

-=-

Sunday November 20, 1977

Ernest Blackwell.

Last after Trinity. Out to the Commercial just after twelve. Sue, Pete, Chippy and me that is. Had three or four drinks and came back to Pine Tops where Susan attempted to make lunch. I went to Edith's to ask what flour is required to make Yorkshire pudding and remained there for one and a half hours with Ernest in his kitchen drinking his lager (from the barrel) and grape wine.

On returning home I found the mortal remains of my lunch over a pan of hot water and no sooner had I started to eat it when Mum and Dad appeared. Mum was in one of her foul moods and not at all nice to Sue. I think they expected a cooked lunch on the table and the sight of a chicken skeleton and three cold Brussels sprouts cannot have been a heart warming sight.

To make matters worse I invited Edith and Ernest to come round at 4:30 and they arrived on time with bottles of wine. Mum complained of feeling tired and was far from sociable. We drank until about 8 when I evacuated the lounge and let go of my pent up frustrations on Delia's pheasant. I, with the aid of David, removed it of it's feathers and innards and conveyed the pathetic bird back into the house. I do not suppose it will make a decent meal. In fact, it strongly resembled a Vietnamese refugee. Nevertheless, one shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth ... or gift pheasant in the beak.

Mum and Dad enjoyed Norfolk but are far too grumpy for my liking. Saw a film and retired to bed at 12. Still battling on with our mutual friend 'The Count of Monte Cristo'.

-=-

Thursday November 3, 1977

Pay day. The State Opening of Parliament took place this morning. BBC TV technicians blacked out the coverage of the 'spectacle' because they too want more cash from HM Government. When I say 'spectacle' I say so in more ways than you imagine because the Queen wore her half-moon spectacles for the first time at the opening of the British Parliament. The fact that she is become a grandmother in two weeks time must have gone to her head, or perhaps I should say face. The specs do not flatter HM one bit. I do realise that the Queen doesn't want to be a trend setter or sex symbol. The sole aim was to the read the rubbish provided for her by the pathetic government with speed and accuracy.

At tea time we had fish and chips washed down with a bottle of hock. Papa was pissed from an afternoon session with Mum, Edith and Ernest. They had been up to the Cow & Calf to enquire about a wedding reception for Lynn & Dave. It sounds impressive.

Sat by the television this evening.

-=-

Friday October 28, 1977

Mum called in at Chapel Allerton Hospital on the way out with Ernest this afternoon and delivered flowers and a box of chocolates. They couldn't get to see Carole. John, who called in at about 7.30, said it may be a brain tumour and says that Maria has been at the hospital 'every day'.

Yorkshire Rose: mortuary.

Out with Christine to the Fox at 8.20. Sue joined us because Peter is at a party in Durham. I strongly resembled a punk rocker because Sue trimmed my hair in the 'Punk Rock' fashion and my tight jeans and plimsolls were an added touch. We were joined by Andy and Linda, Chris, Pete M, and Steve Hudson, and - wait for it - Miss Lynne Mather. Yes, Lynne Mather followed on. She looked much the same and didn't have much to say in my direction which isn't surprising. CB had me in stitches when she pointed out that Lynne appeared to be wearing a pair of bananas on her feet.

Tony arrived at 9.30 just as CB and I left for the Hare. From the Hare we went on to the Crown at Yeadon and then - finally - the Yorkshire Rose which resembled a mortuary. I was really pissed.

Christine came back for coffee and crumpets but left at a reasonable time because of her mother.

Lynn and I sat near the record player singing quietly and sharing a cigarette until 2am and supping a bottle of terrible nettle wine. She told me that when she and David have a son one of the lad's names will be Michael. What a wonderful gesture.

-=-

Tuesday October 11, 1977

I wrote to the Times and the YP on the matter of Princess Anne's baby and it's title, or rather lack of it, when it comes into the world. I suggest doing what King Edward VII did in 1905 (see Diary, Saturday April 9, 1977). No doubt Mr Rees-Mogg and John Edwards will cast my mail sneeringly into the waste paper baskets of their respective offices. At least it cannot be said that I have neglected the plight of what can only be referred to, at this stage, as Master or Miss Phillips.

Edith & Ernest

Edith and Ernest came over at some frightfully early hour to 'sample' the wine. Lynn and Sue departed to bed quite early leaving Mum, Dad and I with them. I haven't laughed quite so much for at least 24 hours. Ernest told us, at great length, of how his great-uncle, Edwin Fletcher, founded the Provident Clothing Company. Edith cried with laughter throughout and it proved so infectious that we all followed suit. Do not ask what is so funny about Edwin Fletcher and the Provident Clothing Co, because I doubt whether I can enlighten you one bit. Ernest also told this tale to one of his arch-snobby neighbours further down the lane (whose husband is currently involved with the above mentioned company) and she retorted: "Oh, so your must be related to the Waddiloves". Ernest turned purple and demanded to know just where the Waddilove family come into the tale, but the neighbour changed the subject to the latest Princess Margaret story.

The two Es departed at 12 like Cinderellas (pissed ones) and Mum and I had a furious row which resembled 'Vimy Ridge' proportions. I adjourned, nay retreated, to my room with 'The Count of Monte Cristo'.

-=-

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.

-=-

Sunday August 21, 1977

11th after Trinity. Woke at 11 feeling quite dead. Mr Brotherwood Senior, grinning broadly, deposited a cup of tea by my bed and made a quick exit from the room. Tony was outside beating his sheepskin car rugs with a large wire brush. He laughed on seeing me and joked about the pinkness of my eyes and deathly hue of my palid cheeks. We then attacked slices of hot buttered toast with Mrs B's constant chatter as a back drop.

Groucho.

See in the Sunday Times that the genius Groucho Marx is dead. Let us hope that, as in the case of the late, lamented Mr Presley, the BBC will now show all the Marx Brothers films because 'Duck Soup', 'A Day at the Races' and 'A Night at the Opera' are masterpieces of comedy. The Elvis films are starting on the BBC next Wednesday.

We went back to the White Horse taking Mrs Brotherwood with us. Tony and I drank tomato juice. Mrs B was on the sherry.

Sunday lunch was at 2 followed by a slight kip and then we hit the road for the north at 4pm. Home via Goodwood and picturesque Sussex and various other bits of that area of which I know nothing. We ate our packed picnic of cheese and spring onion sandwiches in the car, and I had mine as we passed Kew Gardens at about 6.30.  We were at Bradford and in the Bod at 9.30. At times Tony  had been doing over 100mph on the M1. Wendy and Anne were in the Bod and we planned to go to Annabella's with them on Wednesday and to the WH Smith party, I think. I'm surprised we weren't thrown out for all the attention we were drawing to ourselves. Three pints of Guinness, no money an one hour later I returned home to find everyone at Edith and Ernest's and in a state of intoxication. Even Lynn and David back from Italy - not as brown as they should be.

-=-

Thursday July 7, 1977

Got three weeks pay! Oh for the sands of Ibiza!

Out with Carole to the Regent and then the Station Hotel and the Ings (Yuk) and then the Drop. Carole was nice. Discussed very little. She may be going on holiday with Fogarty.

Back at Pine Tops. Mum and Dad entertain Ernest and Edith to home-brew. Much pissed.

-=-

Wednesday June 29, 1977

Work was ghastly and I made my exit at 3.30pm.  Tony rang later and said he was cheesed off with Barry and I told him to venture to Pine Tops. He arrived looking pale with a revolting tooth ache and within minutes we are on the open road heading in the direction of a tavern.

Tony.

Alcohol is supposedly good for tooth ache. It's also a marvellous cure for back ache, heart ache, and cancer. If nothing else it helps you to die laughing.

The first port of call was the Queen's on Apperley Lane. I am reminded of the late Judith Beevers (see May-Jul 1974) but otherwise it's dead, flat and miserable. The brandy here didn't do much for Tony's throbbing tooth and so we went to the dreaded Drop in Guiseley, where the brandy was equally ineffective.

Tony agrees to take Martyn and I to Stockport on July 9 and says he'll probably bring Linda along too. Will she fit in at the Hollywood? __________. Last call was the Fox & Hounds, Menston.

Home to find Mama and Papa entertaining Edith & Ernest, who have brought a supply of wine with them. I did a spot of tasting myself. A good time was had by all. Night Night.

-=-

Friday December 31, 1976

New Year's Eve. Need I say more? OK, probably. But don't expect all that much. The day was one of further recuperation as you might say. Entertained Uncle H and prepared for a party. Went with Dad to collect John, Maria and JPH at 6 o'clock. Uncle H is fascinated by the baby. Didn't go down to the pub until 10 o'clock because Peter N was too absorbed in the film epic 'Zulu' which I've seen about sixteen times. But sure enough the pub held everyone standing in readiness for the midnight hour.

With John, New Year's Eve 1976

The party [at Pine Tops] commenced at 11.45pm on Dec 31, 1976 and fizzled out at approximately 10am on the morning of January 1, 1977. Nice seeing MM and Marita. Dave L was his usual cheery self. Uncle H gave Jimmy Macdonald and I a wonderful description of Great Uncle Walter [Henty's] death on a ship in the Indian Ocean in the mid-1930s. We also had a lengthy discussion on reincarnation. By 6am only Jimmy, John, Maria and I remained standing. Jimmy and I sat until 10, talking. BBC2 runs the entire footage of the Coronation, June 2, 1953 [we're now in Silver Jubilee year]. For more details see the 1977 diary. Goodnight, or perhaps Good morning, all.

Ernest Blackwell, John, Edith and Maria

Sunday August 1, 1976

7th after Trinity. Arise at quite a decent hour and make my way to the bathroom. The stench of vomit outside Karl's bedroom is revolting, but after further investigations I see he is the only casualty.

Peter says CB and Roger appear to have had a good time in the lounge and Chris tells that they (CB & Roger) look to have been 'up to things'______________________.

Denise and I take a vaccuum cleaner each and start on the downstairs rooms. Even Roger had a duster in his hand. Lynne was most uncommunicative and surly much to the amusement of CB who kept grinning at me across the lounge. By 11.30 we've done all we can and Chris takes Romeo & Juliet home (that's Christine & Roger by the way).

Denise, Peter, Lynne and I sit in the dining room chatting until Mr & Mrs Mather get in at 12. I can see Mr M casting his gaze around the premises looking for cases of vandalism. I shudder when I see him mounting the stairs because I know just what a dreadful smell will assail his nostrils when he reaches the top.

At12.30 - Lynne who is all packed ready for her holiday - brings me home.We kiss and part until Saturday night. Have lunch with Mum, Dad, Sue & Peter and then spend a couple of hours with the Blackwells. We talk about Vic Feather, the Duchess of Windsor, the Queen and Queen Mother and other sundries. Edith had some unsavory comments to make about the old duchess and she says that the Queen Mother 'fancies herself'.

Back home I watch TV all night with Mum & Dad. A good programme about the history of the BBC with bits of programmes all bunged together. After Dad goes to work Mum and I watched a sad, morbid film with Elizabeth Taylor and Montgomery Clift. Don't get me wrong, Elizabeth and Montgomery didn't watch the film with us - they were in it.

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Tuesday May 18, 1976

A warm, pleasant day. Go into town at lunchtime and collect the two Elton John records and at the same time order 'Make Me Smile' by Cockney Rebel for Christine. Why can't a chap buy a ladyfriend a gift occasionally? Nip unaccompanied into the Ostlers and have a couple of lagers.

Main topic at work is the coming events of Saturday night. Darryl Wills says he's coming when he hears that Sarah is attending. If she brings Peter, her boyfriend, we'll all be done for, but knowing Sarah I can see her turning up in a single capacity just to please me (wishful thinking).

Mr Monkman was buried today at 2.30. Dad and Ernest Blackwell represented the Hawksworth Lane residents, but I didn't fancy the idea at all. Funerals are not things one should rush into are they?

David rings at 7 o'clock to say his Dad is in hospital following a mild heart attack! God Almighty! That family is in a bad state! Mr Lawson always appears to be such a healthy chap too. He comes up to our place at 8.30 (David) and we go to the Queen's on Apperley Lane to meet Marita and Denise for a few drinks. It made a change going out on a Tuesday. We had a few laughs. David goes back into hospital on Friday and doesn't think he'll be well enough to come on Saturday.

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Sunday February 1, 1976

4th Sunday after Epiphany. Don't wake up until afternoon. Mum, Carole, Lynn, Susan and Maria are downstairs preparing something to eat and seem to be getting on poor David's nerves.

John is like a corpse in his bed. He was actually violently sick in my new shoes, both there in the room swimming in veg.

The party was a great success though and John and Maria received a nice start to their future life together.

Edith Blackwell called round to see how we fared last night and she recounts, over sausage rolls and cold chicken legs, how Ernest lost his false teeth in the festivities.

At 2.30 Carole and I went for a long trek over Hawksworth Moor and almost froze to death in the process. My fingers were ice cold even in gloves and I've never known a day to be so cold and miserable. We got back at 4.30 before it began to grow dark.

I cannot understand why I wanted to finish with Carole on Friday night because we normally get on so well together, and today was no exception. I seem to be able to change my mind about something in the space of a matter of minutes.

We all watched television, and I fell asleep in the chair which is unusual for me.

John and Maria went down to Silverdale to look at a semi-detached house and came back with favourale reports. They'll get off to a nice start if they can begin with a new house.

We all looked through old photographs. Carole and I walked to Harry Ramsden's at 9.30 and I saw her on a bus homeward. I return home via Thorpe Lane and just about freeze to death for the second time today.

-==-

Monday September 22, 1975

Up at 9.30. Ernest Blackwell is in for a cup of coffee with Dad and Sue, and I show him 'The Story of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor' by Ralph Martin (which I bought on Saturday by the way). The book is really excellent and I believe theirs is the greatest love story of all time. To give up the throne for a woman!

Back to this diary peeping lark. I was mad with Carole. Reading someone elses diary is like opening someone elses drawers and reading other peoples mail. It is worse in fact. However, I'll bear no grudges and continue to say horrible things about people whether they are reading it behind my back or not.

She rang me at 11am to ask if I still loved her. Of course I do. She must think I am a cruel swine. I love her in a silly sort of way really, and she is the only girl I have fallen for who didn't knock me off my feet at first sight. Strange really.

Today is Mark Phillips's 27th birthday. I am disappointed really. Twenty-seven years old, two years married life behind him, and still no grandchildren for the Queen. A fortune teller in one of the Sundays says Princess Anne is going to have a baby girl next year. I am no medium, and it certainly takes no magic powers to se that 1976 will see Princess Anne in the Olympics, and no offpsring will appear until late 1977, or even 1980.

Carole comes round with Maria at about 8.30. We sit and drink Campari in the dining room and I give Carole a free hand with the record player. We don't really have the same taste in music, but Tamla Motown is just about bearable. I walk her home at a ghastly late hour and then walk all the way back in a slight drizzle.

Leap into bed with the Duke and Duchess of Windsor which is a tremendous book.

-==-

Wednesday January 1, 1975

Michael Rhodes, 19 years, 8 months and 26 days. Here I am again, everyone. No doubt you're all sick of me, but you'll have a long wait if you think I'm going to pack it in just for your sakes.

The party was a tremendous success. At about 8.30pm last night John, Christine B, Chris and self went to the Hare where we were joined by the mob. Lynn and David, and even Martyn and Alison attended. In keeping with tradition we all went to the Commercial to see the New Year safely in. Mum and Dad are entertaining Ernest* & Edith Blackwell** in the crowded ale house at Esholt, and we draw the conclusion that far more people are out spending money on ale than at the same time last year.

Back to Pine Tops at 12.15 after hearing from Denny that Adrian is 'too poorly' to come. This is the first New Year in three years that Miss Akroyd hasn't attended. Uncle Harry came at about 2am and was stoned as usual. He says he now wants to join the Ulster police. Uncle H in Northern Ireland! That's all they need!

I stood on CB's toe whilst dancing and she lost the nail. Blood pouring everywhere. Not a pretty sight I might add. I felt unusually knackered all night, and Dave Lawson kept saying I looked 'lethargic', which seemed to give him a good deal of pleasure. A spot of bother came when Carol and Christine W attempted both to bed down in my precious sleeping place. David B (yes, I've reverted to the old style) had to step in and take them home at 6am. I went to bed shortly after.

Up at 1pm and sit in front of the TV for eleven hours. Had a good, peaceful time though. Lynn and Dave are going to Scarborough tomorrow. Lucky Devils!


*Ernest Blackwell (born May 16, 1907)
** Edith Hannah Blackwell (born Sept 11, 1909)

-==-

Tuesday January 1, 1974

The radio behind the bar of the Commercial at Esholt announces the arrival of 1974. We all kiss and link arms in the singing of 'auld langs ayne'. Denny, as usual, is emotional at the passing of the old year. By 12.15 Uncle Jack complains he is on the verge of starving to death so we all leave, in dense fog, for Pine Tops.

The party is a tremendous success. Andy, Chris, Linda, Christine W, Peter Mather arrive, followed by MM and Marita. A couple of police officers arrive (as guests) and the party is underway. Uncle Harry is drunk, along with Auntie Hilda. Poor Uncle Tony sleeps in the lounge. The Blackwells came in for an hour or two. Truly a fantastic evening. Chris, in keeping with his previous New Year record, was in a terrible mood. He'll be in trouble next week for not going to Laura's party. Everyone agrees that Mum and Dad are tremendous parents.

Very few people go home, and by 7am most people have fallen asleep in all sorts of places. Cousin Jackie, Neil, Al and Martyn and I awake at about 10 in the lounge. Mr Graham collects Andy, Christine and Linda.

Spend the rest of the day relaxing in front of the tv. My throat is burning and dry, but it isn't down to drink. I consumed very little last night. Poor Auntie Hilda was blind drunk, after knocking back the contents of a whole bottle of Bacardi. She kept calling me: 'My favourite nephew.'

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Saturday December 22, 1973

Dad wakes me at 6.25am and I wash, dress and go downstairs where I blow up several balloons in the lounge. Mrs Blackwell bangs on the door at 7 with a story about the taxi driver being late. They are going to Torquay for Christmas to see their son and four grandsons.

The weather is shocking, fog and rain both at the same time. At 8.0 I get the 55 bus arriving in Leeds at 9.0. Spend three hours and £6 buying presents in near torrential conditions. See Sue Bottomley in 'Scene and Heard', who says June didn't enjoy the party at Benton Park on Wednesday. I tell her that I didn't enjoy it either, and she gave a wistful smile.

On arrival home I try ringing Jackie in order to get to the bottom of these latest 'June rumours'. Whilst talking to Uncle Jack the line goes dead and at 5.30 I had heard nothing further from Pudsey. Even Mum is hopeful that June and I will get back together. The prospect literally makes me feel like going hysterical with joy. Who knows what might happen?

John, Christine W, David, Marita, MM and Linda go to York until 4am. I await further instruction from higher places. I went to the Emmotts and sat with Ivy until 8.30 when Chris, Andy, Peter Mather and gang joined me. At 11 we went to a party near the Golf Club - gate crashed it. Remained until 1.30. Peter brought me home.

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