Saturday August 18, 1979

_. I sat sticking photos in my album this morning thinking on my past adventures with my former constant companion, Christine Braithwaite. She married sometime today at Guiseley Register office [or so I've been led to believe]. I did not go down and 'peep' because she wanted a very quiet, no fuss ceremony, and I respect her wishes. I wish her a long, lusty and brilliant life with Frank and only hope she never regrets todays all important ritual. I intend to write some gesture of goodwill to the happy couple.

At about 12 Ally's parents came over, and after a while we went on to Lynn & David's so they can inspect Lawn Road. Lynn looks very well and cheerful. The Dixons left at 1 and we all went to the White Cross. Sue and Peter are there with Chippy outside, but we went in a stood at the bar, because Lynn and Chippy insist on engaging in battle every time their paths cross.

This evening to the Rose & Crown at Ilkley with Lynn, Dave B, Sue, Pete, and Ally. Mum and Dad went to Pudsey and at 9:30 we were joined by Jill and Tim. At closing time armed with a six pint can of ale and bottle of Martini we went to Lawn Rd and spent four or five hours looking at the Baker photo collection. At 1:30 we ran out of booze and so Tim and I bombed over the moor to Pine Tops and pinched bottles of lager and a couple of bottles of wine. The whole journey took about five minutes and at times the wheels of his ancient van left the road. Back at Lawn Rd we sang Christmas Carols on the doorstep until we were admitted. We partied until 4am, when Jill and Tim left because he is working all day Sunday.

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Sunday July 18, 1976

5th after Trinity. A beautifully hot day. Awakened at 6.10am to see Susan standing over me. Give her a big kiss. She's home 12 hours before we had expected. Alison, Martyn, Dave B, Peter N are downstairs with Mr Dixon, & Lynn is chatting in a high pitched tone with Mum. Go downstairs. Fog was responsible for their flight being switched from Heathrow to Luton. Poor Mr Dixon had to chase across the Midlands in hot pursuit of the plane and finally collected them at 4 o'clock this morning. Alison and her Dad go at 7, and after a cooked breakfast I go down onto the lawn until lunch.

John & Maria come at lunchtime and we have a nice meal. My face is stinging with the sun and I feel like ruddy Rudolph the soddin' Red Nosed Reindeer.

We all go back onto the lawn until tea time and Uncle Peter, Auntie Jean and the kids roll in for ten minutes at about 4 o'clock.

Sitting next to Maria I can see the baby kicking about and watch with fascination as her stomach violently vibrates. My future nephew shows all signs of being a vigorous little devil.

Later: Lynne comes at 8.30 and the two of us go to the Commercial until closing time. She does tend to have 'moods' occasionally but I'm the perfect match in that respect because very few can be as nasty as me when I choose to be.


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Thursday November 14, 1974

William III born 1650. The Prince of Wales born 1948. I hate British weather. Yesterday would have been a lot nicer if todays little sunny periods had given an orange glow above the sogginess of Bradford. Never again will I believe this talk about 'Queen's weather'. The sun simply ignored Her Majesty yesterday.

Busy at the YP. Anne, who departed our company in June, paid us a visit after lunch, and was her usual boisterous self. I got on perfectly well with Anne, though I did disagree with the way she wielded her authority as deputy librarian, over the library staff. After all, Sarah has worked in the department for 5 years and at 21 was quite capable of making Kathleen an admirable deputy.

Lynn goes mad after tea when she sees in the EP that Alison's Dad is now regional manager of the Southampton area. How could Al possibly have such information without conveying it to Lynn? But seriously, Lynn is rather upset at the thought of seeing Alison depart to the south of England without so much as a by your leave. Alison Dixon is a gorgeous creature and only the person of Martyn Cole Eesquire keeps me from her side. My passions are at a high level indeed when I see the diminutive, blond creature, in her black necklace, reclining on our settee.

Collapse with the hysteria put about by the 'Monty Python' crowd on the BBC. Sue and I have exactly the same sense of humour. We dissolved in the kitchen for about half an hour after the programme had finished.

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