Monday April 9, 1979

_. It poured down from dawn till dusk. Whatever became of the long, warm Spring which was forecast in the delightful EP?

Carol J paid me £10 for doing the bathroom and asked me whether I would possibly do the wall behind the door in that same, auspicious room. I leapt at the chance. It will only take me ten minutes.

Delia phoned and was most revealing. She told me she had argued with Sarah late last week at the cruel way S had sent me to Coventry for giving her that "frightful cold". She told Sarah to pull herself together and start being nice to me once again. She can be a horrid, precocious child at times. I'd love to be given the opportunity to really sort her out. In a brutal, forceful Clint Eastwood sort of way.

The general election campaign is already in full swing. A month of codswallop and blatant lies from our beloved pin-striped PM is something I can do without. Jim Callaghan really should do the honourable thing and shoot himself. It would be far better to go now than to wait until May 3 and suffer the same fate as King Charles I, Mr Hoveyda, the former Jamaican premier and poor Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, who died by hanging last week simply because he was the leader of a defeated party. Margaret Hilda [Thatcher] seems to have the right idea. She says she is ignoring the campaign for a while because she doesn't want to bore the pants off Joe Electorate. Hoe right and clever of the sainted Margaret.

To bed at 1:12am.

-=-

Wednesday March 28, 1979

_. A revolting wet day. It's blowing a gale at the moment [12:15am 29/03/1979] .

Auntie Hilda is 43 today. Mum phoned her this morning. Mum suggested that they team up and go to Ruby and Arthur's together at Easter. H seemed to think this is a good idea.

Sarah has been a cow all day. ______________.

Susan and Peter went out for an Indian meal to celebrate their recovery from gastroenteritis. Oh God!

I have excellent news to relate here. At 10:30 tonight the government was defeated in the House of Commons on a vote of no confidence, by 311 to 310 votes. Old Callaghan will have to go to the country at last. The Queen will be asked to dissolve Parliament in the next few days and the general election campaign will begin. April 26 and May 10 are possible dates. It looks like Margaret Hilda Thatcher will be the first woman prime minister. One Labour MP missed the vote due to illness. I'd be interested to know who that was. His vote would have resulted in a tie and the Speaker would have cast the deciding vote with Her Majesty's Government. Angela Rippon was obviously beside herself with glee whilst reading the late news. It's obvious she is a 'true blue'. No government has been defeated in this way and subsequently fallen since Ramsay MacDonald's first Labour administration in 1924, and he was succeeded by Baldwin. Poor Jim Callaghan's 'Zinoviev Letter' is the failure of devolution ~ such a pathetic subject on which to risk all, don't you think?

Things will now hot up at the YP and the build up to the general election will be all good stuff. It's an exciting time. I really pity the poor people of Paraguay or Argentina, where elections of any kind are strictly taboo. They don't realise just what they are missing. ________.

Went to bed with Agatha Christie at 12:25am.

-=-

Friday March 23, 1979

_. Woke up feeling quite well but regretting last night's stunt which cost me a fine pair of trousers. I didn't climb out of bed until 8 o'clock and so I missed Jim [Rawnsley]. Battling down the lane at 8:30 I met Lynn and Dave and scrounged a lift to town with them.

At the YP the atmosphere has improved. Sarah was all light and loveliness, but when she is one of her moods I could cheerfully throttle the life out of her.

At home tonight ~ Peter was in trouble. He phoned Sue, giggling, at 7:30, with Chippy in the background. They had of course been in Otley all day. He excused himself from visiting tonight by saying he was doing some work on his car. "If he tells you lies now, then what will he do when he's married?" interjected mother, unhelpfully. He did come up for Sue aft 8 but I was in the bath and avoided the aggravation.

Sat in front of the television tonight. A Variety Club of Gt Britain lunch in honour of Earl Mountbatten of Burma. Lord Mountbatten was accompanied by Prince & Princess Michael of Kent. She is expecting a baby in about three weeks and looked delicious, as usual. Marie-Christine von Reibnitz is the most beautiful addition to the Royal Family since Queen Alexandra joined it in 1863. Harry Secombe made a funny speech and so did Peter Ustinov. The poor, demented prime minister arrived late and seemed almost human. The Tories are demanding a vote of confidence next week and the government doesn't stand a chance of surviving. A general election is now on the cards and good old Margaret Thatcher will be shaking hands with the Queen as the first daffodils emerge through the snow.

-=-

Monday January 15, 1979

Will Margaret Hilda (Thatcher) ever become prime minister of these crumbling, desperate islands? I have a quaking, nasty feeling of nausea about the whole subject of the next general election. Do I forsee yet another feeble minority Labour government taking us through to the mid 1980s? Please, Oh please God, spare us this horror!

Another one of those Spencer girls has been spotted in the royal circle. Lady Diana Spencer, 17, is now at Sandringham with her elder sister, Lady Sarah, and both have been out shooting with the Prince of Wales. Lady Diana was born in 1961 and I can't help thinking that our future Queen consort is going to be a child of the 1960s. The Prince of Wales cannot marry someone thirty years old because her child~bearing days (or perhaps years) can be numbered on one hand. So, in the next couple of years a batch of females in their early 20s will have to be taken into consideration. All very exciting, isn't it?



I have decided that Peter Nason's beard is a perfect addition to his face. His features were too elongated, and now you can't see 'em for hair. The facial hair makes him look older too. He's been in a cheerful, almost elated mood recently. What can it be?

Watched TV until the set nearly exploded from the heat. A Charles Bronson film on BBC2, and of course a repeat of a 1972 edition of Monty Python's Flying Circus. Bed after 12 and read 'Confessions of a Private Soldier'. Blimey, anything is better than the Crossman diaries.

-=-

Monday October 9, 1978

Jacq phones to say her gorgeous friend Lynda is off work with a bad back and jokingly asks what I did with her in the garden to put her in that condition.

Kathleen has gone to the Lake District for a week. Her plan has back~fired. She booked the week off thinking a general election would have been taking place this Thursday.

The Daily Mail says the goddess Princess Michael of Kent is going to have a baby in April. We shall have to wait for the official notification of this addition to the Royal House of Windsor.

Mum and Dad have squabbled about something and refuse to speak. They sat in stony silence all night while I watched "Till Death Us Do Part" the 1969 film of the famous tv series. It's obnoxious. Bed at 11:30. Poor Alison.

-=-

Wednesday August 23, 1978

To Lawn Road again. Far too busy painting to sit here with my pen.

A general election is almost on the cards now for October 5, and not October 12. The latter date is too close to Yom Kippur, the day of Atonement, and Jim (Callaghan) wants all the Jewish votes he can lay his hands on. Also, Jeremy Thorpe's day in court has been postponed until the second week in October so that it won't interfere with polling.

Let us hope and pray that Margaret Hilda will be spending her 53rd birthday in number 10, Downing Street. (That will be October 13). Oh, I'm on tip~toe with excitement.

-=-

Wednesday September 21, 1977

The autumn equinox, I believe. Yes folks, with a rendering of 'Autumn Leaves' I now bid farewell to you in order to roast my chestnuts on my little garden bonfire. Oh, how I love this time of year!  The browns! The golds! The burnt yellows! No.To be honest I can take it or leave it.

An autumn without a good old general election is just not on. It's like having peaches without cream or whisky without American Dry Ginger and lots of ice. I'm sure that dear Mrs Thatcher thinks along these lines too. To see the beloved leader of the only true political party, ballot papers in hand, coming into focus through a typically misty autumn dawn would be a sight to cherish. But alas, the sorrowing nation must now wait until this gorgeous season is once again upon us before the Sainted Margaret - her hair burnished with the magnificent hue of autumn leaves - rides into Parliament as our prime minister.

Otherwise a normal day the YP and with little play.

-=-

Sunday June 26, 1977

3rd after Trinity.  After watching the sun rise above Ilkley Moor I decided to go out and investigate. A cuckoo summoned me from the heather (or was it in a tree?) and I pursued the calling for several miles up hill. I went up past the College of Education and past a white-washed cottage near a babbling stream where I lay down and snoozed. After some time I staggered back to the flat with a police patrol car keeping vigilance over me. It was about 6am when I got back and Tony was up and about. He was in fact opening all the letters he'd received this week from his bank manager. It was too much for me and I went to bed.

Ilkley Moor.

We ate eggs and bacon and fried bread at about 10 and then sat around saying what fools we are and how we should know better, &c.

Tony attempted to analyse Carole once more but I feel at times like this that he's got the whole thing wrong or else I'm a lunatic. He always comes to the conclusion that I am to blame for her unstable behaviour.

Home for 11. Lunch with the family. Watched the film 'The L-Shaped Room'. Passed into a coma in the chair and don't feel remotely ready to go in to the YP.

Down the lane at 4 and in the office for 5. Wendy worked tonight too.

Home with the taxi driver who once lectured me on snakes bite remedies. Tonight we discussed the latest Leeds (Ripper) murder and capital punishment. We agreed entirely and I am seriously thinking about nominating him for a parliamentary seat at the coming autumn general election (just a guess). The Taxi Party. Ah, yes, I can see it now. For a start I'd grow a small black moustache and then I'd exterminate all the Scots.

-==-

Tuesday December 31, 1974

My half-day. Come home at 12.30 where everyone is rushing around preparing for the party tonight. Our famous parties grow more and more popular each year and we'll have to hold it in a marquee before very long. I clear all the rubbish out of the garage which has been piled there since Christmas. John helps me to burn it.

Mum is upset by Auntie Hilda, who informs her by way of the telephone, that the Gadsbys will not be patronising our Hogmany orgy this year. Mrs Gadsby really is the limit.
A sad day for this volume today. This is my final entry upon these pages, and in a few short minutes the book will be closed forever. What can I possibly say to put a fitting end to it? I know, I'll give a list of events which I think have been the most important of the year.

January: Vic Feather is raised to the peerage.

February: The Rt Hon Edward Heath resigns as Prime Minister; the Rt Hon Harold Wilson becomes PM (March 4)

March: Ian Ball attempts to kidnap Princess Anne, March 20; Lynn is 16 (March 6)

April: I am 19 April 5

May: Meet Judith Beevers (May 3)

June: Death of the Duke of Gloucester (June 10); John and I visit John and Sheila in Windsor

July: Finish with Judith Beevers (July 21)

August: Princess Anne, 24; Queen Mother, 74.

September: Lynn starts going out with Dave Baker; John is 18, Sept 25

October: General Election, Oct 10. Start going out with Lynne Mather

November: Finish with Lynne Mather

December: Santa Claus comes Dec 25.

Mary had a little pig,
She put it in a bucket,
But every time she took it out,
the Bulldog tried to put it back

Mary had a little lamb,
She also had a duck,
She put them on the matlepiece,
to see if they'd fall off

Mary had a little Pig,
She couldn't stop it grunting,
she stood it up against the sty,
and kicked its little head in

So, the year is nearly over. A new diary becomes operative from midnight. Hope you've enjoyed reading it. Obviously, I'm a boring writer and I cannot expect you to have devoured every sentence with rellish. I can understand you skipping a couple of months here and there. You're only human after all. Well, I'm going now. If you want to read about the party see the book headed '1975' in which a full and proper account of tonight's goings on will be preserved for posterity. God Bless you all, and a happy and prosperous New Year, which ever one it is next. After all, you could be a little chap from the 22nd century who has stumbled upon this diary. Wishing you a Happy New Year for 1975 would be a bit pointless, wouldn't it?

-==-

Friday October 11, 1974

Back at the YP as usual. Surprised that Harold (Wilson) will not be seeing the Queen, who is still at Balmoral, to accept her invitation to form a government. But really, I suppose he has been Prime Minister throughout, and it would have only been necessary for him to see the Queen had he been defeated. HM must have been quite confident of a Labour victory because no plans were laid, or any attempt made, for her to return to London.

Go to Otley at 8, and meet Lynne (Mather) at half past. Acutely cold evening and we go into the pub close to the Victoria Memorial Clock. Stay till 10.30. Lynne is a very nice girl, though she reminds of June in many ways, & doesn't like going out in a crowd, which is unfortunate really. At 11, after seeing her safely onto a bus, I go to Wikis, where all the mob except Chris and Phyllis Whitethighs are assembled. Even Laura and Philip Cartwright. Get quite fresh.

See Sarah whos says her hair-do cost her £8 at Vidal Sassoons in Leeds! Bloody madness. John and Carol bump into Dave Slater and he proceeds to buy bottles of champagne and Bacardi, &c. Naturally, John and Carol become quite intoxicated. Dave Slater was already pissed up to the eye balls. We decide to come back to Pine Tops, and Dave drives me in the Bentley - a memorable journey to be sure. Sit till after 3.30.

--==--

Thursday October 10, 1974

King Henry III born 1206. Polling Day again. John and I go (vote) in the car at about 7.30. He votes Labour, and I Liberal. I know it's shocking of me to desert the poor Tories in their hour of need, but they made such a mess of it last time I feel as though it would be almost criminal to get them elected again. YP all day. Quite busy, but nothing of importance happens. Home at 6pm and see tv until 1am. It's quite clear by midnight that 'Darling Harold' will remain Prime Minister. Go to bed feeling very tired, and fall asleep with the knowledge that the nation is now doomed to destruction under the crushing hammer of Antony Wedgwood Benn's nationalisation plans.

-==-

Wednesday October 9, 1974

The Duke of Kent born 1935. My half day at the YP. Home for 12.30 for lunch with Mum. We're both undecided as to how we are going to vote tomorrow. I'm either Tory or Liberal and Mum is either Labour or Liberal.

Dark day, with occasional showers, though nothing like the torrents produced yesterday. Read the Prince of Wales again, and also, on this subject, I read in the Daily Mail this morning that the Prince will not be moving to Chevening House in Kent next year as was originally decided. The trustees of the Chevening estate are planning a further 2 years' work before HRH can move in.

Saw Christine Braithwaite on the 33 bus this morning. She looks a lot more slim since we last met, and her hair is longer, a much improved appearance. She dropped the bombshell that her love affair with Philip is 'virtually on the rocks'. I cannot believe it. Christine without Philip is like Victoria without Albert, or a horse without a carriage, &c. (not love without marriage, that's quite permissible), &c.

-==-

Monday October 7, 1974

Weather terrible all day. Read biography of the Prince of Wales all night, with the exception of the 9 o'clock news. Denny rings after 9 to give her impressions of the letter I wrote to her on Saturday. She especially liked the bit about my not writing any more 'in case Auntie Evelyn sees this letter'. She's put one in the post for me, and I should be on the receiving end by tomorrow morning. See the election thing on the TV again, and decide that in this coming General Election I am going to vote Liberal. Neither Mr Wilson or Mr Heath have achieved anything int the past four and a half years, and I'm developing a growing admiration for Jeremy Thorpe. Besides, the liberals have had long enough out of office to have made some decisions about exactly what to do when they get in. (P.S. Harry, the driving instructor, calls after 9 to arrange my future driving lessons with him. I'm to take test on November 20, and have about six lessons before that. Should earn a few bob out of it for himself.)

-==-

Tuesday March 12, 1974

The Queen opened Parliament today in a most unusual way. No robes, crowns or regalia of any sort. Not even the coach and horses. It's the first time since the war that the opening has taken place without pomp. Her Majesty wore the same outfit which she bedecked herself in at the Royal Wedding in November. Crowds on the Mall. No doubt Mr Wilson wanted a very quiet affair - most odd to say the least. Anyway, the infernal government were unable to do everything they promised in the manifesto___.All that nationalistation is out as well - phew!

We almost have no private companies left, and we all know how state owned companies manage, don't we? Precisely, they don't manage at all.


-==-

Monday March 4, 1974

A very historic day today. Take breakfast at 7.30, and the radio is disapointing again, giving nothing away on the present Constitutional crisis. All they can say is that Jeremy Thorpe holds the balance of power and the result of the Liberal/Tory negotiations will be announced today. Nothing is announced in any editions of the EP, but at 6.30 the result is announced on 'Nationwide'. Poor Mr Heath, having failed to unite with the Liberals, handed his resignation to the Queen. The scene outside No, 10 was stunning. Thousands of people shouting. Women weeping. Photographers waiting for the kill like half-starved vultures. Poor Mr Heath had to face them all at 6.30. At about 8 it was announced that Her Majesty had asked Mr Wilson to form a Labour government, which he accepted. So, within the space of 90 minutes Mr Heath was gone, and Harold and Mary were braving the Press and photographers on the steps of No 10. However, I must stress the point that the Labour Government is not like the one which took office in '64 - with the slightest opposition they can be defeated in the Commons and yet another General Election will be thrust upon our poor countrymen.

Dad sits smugly in his chair saying he knew all along that Harold would get back into office. Poor Ted is no doubt quite doomed to extinction now. I cannot really see him being returned to No, 10 ever again - poor old slob - he must feel a bit. I stagger to bed sobbing my heart out (not) - a Labour Government - ugh!

-==-

Sunday March 3, 1974

1st in Lent. Out of bed at 10.30. Lynn says Denny rang last night - completely forgot about her - no doubt she'll kill me when we next come into contact.

Still deadlock at No 10, Downing Street. Jeremy Thorpe won't say what he's agreed to do with the Prime Minister, though the BBC say the Liberals won't ally themselves with the Tory party. Well, all we can do is wait and see. I know that I am a Tory, but I don't think Mr Heath should carry on any longer as PM. The Conservative party as a whole should realise that they have been defeated and do what any honourable government should do under the circumstances.


Alvin Stardust 'Jealous Mind'.

-==-

Saturday March 2, 1974

John wakes me at 7.45 - I nearly overslept. Run like hell into Guiseley for my train. Walk from the station to the YP, arriving at 8.55. Busy morning. I type both YP and EP sheets - not bad going really. The papers are full of Edward Heath. The poor man is determined not to resign, and he visited the Queen at Buckingham Palace tonight, presumably to inform her of his intentions. The Prime Minister is of course well within his rights to remain in office, because he can do so until he is defeated in the Commons. This will undoubtedly come next week.. Uncle Ted is hanging on by the skin of his teeth as it were.

-==-

Friday March 1, 1974

St David's Day. Climb into bed after 4am cursing the fact that Wilson will probably be Prime Minister before night is with us once again. Awake at 7am feeling quite awake and unaffected by the late night. The BBC announce that deadlock exists with the result of the election. It seems as though neither party is capable of achieving the necessary 318 seats in order to obtain a working majority in the Commons. Jeremy Thorpe suddenly becomes important because he holds the balance of power between the two major parties. The poor Queen rushed home from Australasia with Princess Anne and Capt Phillips in order to let the nasty Mr Wilson kiss her hands. However, it isn't as simple as that, and by midnight no call from the palace has been made to either of the party leaders. Nothing like this has occurred since 1929 or something. I should know when, but the actual date slips my mind for the moment.

-==-

Thursday February 28, 1974

Polling day throughout Britain today. I cast my vote at about 8.15 tonight, and believe it or not, I didn't really know who to plum for. However, the Conservatives receive my cross, and I left Hawksworth School to find the snow pounding down. A kindly gentleman gave me a lift home, and I sat back to watch the election results on tv. Mum and Dad went round to the Smiths and I joined them at 12 when everyone else had gone to bed. John fell to sleep laughing at the thought of bloody Harold Wilson moving into No. 10. At 4am I retire, completely unaware of who had achieved victory in this election. All the tv announcers were saying that stalemate had been achieved, and that no one party is capable of forming an administration. Anyway, at this time in the morning I don't care who gets into office - no doubt it will all turn out right in the end.

-==-

Tuesday February 19, 1974

Kathleen is worrying about the holidays this year. Everyone appears to be arranging weeks off except me. When I arrive home I discuss the details with John. We decide it would be nice to go to Windsor in June, when the Trooping of the Colour takes place of course. However, I am ignorant of the actual date upon which the Queen celebrates her official birthday this year. Anyway, I soon remedy the fact by ringing the YP library where Ray tells me that the event occurs on Saturday June 15. We make up our minds to stay with Uncle John and Auntie Sheila - all being well anyway - from June 8 to June 16. I could not miss my annual London excursion for anything in the world.

At 6.30 I had my third driving lesson.Feel much more confident than I did on last Tuesday's race around Horsforth. The bloke is a great guy. I am booked through until the end of March on the same day at the same time. If I don't pass first time round I will be resigned to the fact that I am an absolute failure.

A pleasant unusually mild day. Prince Andrew is 14 today, and I am disgusted with Yorkshire Post Newspapers for not flying the Union Jack above the building, which was so at 8.45 this morning, but at 1 o'clock when I went out for lunch, I was pleased to see the flag hoist above the bright, carefree skies of Leeds. It all goes to show that nationalism and patriotism is not yet dead in this decaying country of ours. Even the girls knew what flag flying day it was without being informed - the YP girls I mean - not my own dearest sisters.

See tv in the evening, and have a bath. The General Election is still the main topic. I am sick of hearing Harold Wilson insulting Lord Hailsham, and vice versa. Utterly sick of politics.

-==-