Monday February 11, 1974

Go by bus to the YP for a change and see Lynn Dawson, a cousin of Christine White, who I haven't seen since the summer of '71. I accompanied Miss Dawson in the drizzle to her occupational emporium, namely the Yorkshire Bank. By 8.45 I am at the YP.

Those two vile beasts of corruption John Poulson and William Pottinger were sentenced to 5 years imprisonment at Leeds today. It's a just reward for the creator of Leeds Olympic Swimming Pool I must say. Anyway, it makes a change from the usual OBEs and KCVOs. To be honest, I think the new Leeds baths is one of the most hideous monstrosities to be erected since Centre Point, and for that alone the judge should have doubled his trifling sentence. Poor Poulson wept in the dock - no doubt he'll not come out of jail alive. Poor sod.

The tv tonight was full of election news. Both major parties have now published manifestos and the usual bitter attacks upon each other have begun. Mr Heath seems very confident, but the opinion polls don't give him a massive lead. I cannot understand why Jeremy Thorpe doesn't receive the acclaim and popularity he so rightly deserves - and I seriously think that we ought to give him a chance in government. It would be nice to see Marion Harewood in No. 10. Even Mary Wilson will make a change from the boring bachelor escapades which have hung over Downing Street since 1970. A lot of popularity could easily have been created by the PM if he had married after the last election. His evident leaning towards male company cannot help raising certain doubts in my mind.

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Friday February 8, 1974

Quite a satisfactory day with very little hinderance from the girls. Frankly, Janice was being most civil with me for a change. Kathleen seemed a little bogged down with work, but I suppose the head of a department does tend to take on more responsibilities.

Have a funny afternoon. Laugh ourselves silly when we hear that the miners are still going on strike although they have no Government to argue with. The General Election isn't going to have the effect which Mr Heath thought would come about. Undoubtedly, the country falls into a worse state every day. Everyone in the Emmotts tonight agreed that the Conservatives should be re-elected, but most thought that Uncle Ted should go.

John and I get the 7.30 55 - meeting Andy on the way. Dear Christine White joins us - followed by Laura (ugh) and Paul. Chris doesn't come until after 9 o'clock. The Emmotts is packed by 9.30 and when MM and Marita come we are packed in like sardines. Helen and Keith pile in and I give her my stool, spending the remaining 45 minutes crouched on the floor near Chris and Ray. _____MM and Marita leave us and we decide where to go for the remainder of the evening. Keith mentions the 'Speak Easy' again, which was suggested last Saturday. We decide therefore to go to the 'Speak Easy' at Keighley. John and Andy go with Keith in his car. Helen and Christine go with Ray, and me and Chris go with Laura and Paul. All the way over the moors, arriving at the place at about 11. I always thought Denny was a good dancer, but Helen is also gifted here. If she wasn't going out with Keith I could quite fancy her.

The 'Speak Easy' is a brilliant spot - inexpensive and quite classy with it as well. Much better than the so-called 'Cat's Whiskers', which may as well have been named 'The Dead Bears Bum' for all I care. Dance through until 2. But John and I are mad about the drink arrangements. Everyone seemed to be buying drinks for each other and leaving dear brother and me out. Bugger them. The past months have shown that John is the only real friend I've got - the others tend to 'take the piss' out of me.

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Thursday February 7, 1974

The one day rail strike delayed my arrival at the YP until 9.35. Travelled to Leeds on a bus where I saw the second most beautiful lady in Horsforth - namely Sue Bottomley. What a darling she is! The epitome of sophistication. Such beauties were never meant for the horrid industrial 20th century. The splendours of Regency England would have been more suitable for the divine Miss Susan Bottomley.

My half-day again. Leave the YP with Sarah and get a bus outside a mill on Wellington Street. Home for 1pm after dropping off my library books at Rawdon. Have an invigorating walk up the lane in brilliant sunshine only to find myself locked out of the house. Realising that Lynn is still in bed with a chill, I shout through the letter-box, but she arrives in the kitchen laughing saying Mum has the only key. Anyway, I soon remedy the handicap by climbing into the house via the kitchen window - Lynn found the whole incident very funny. Lynn goes back upstairs and I sit with her listening to the radio until nearly 2.

The 1.30 news shook me. Mr Heath announced this morning that a general election will be held on February 28, and the Queen has dissolved Parliament by telegram from New Zealand in the early hours of this morning. It seems as though all the speculation is correct after all. My only fear is that Mr Heath will be succeeded by that two-faced little pip-squeak Wilson. I pray to God that we will be spared from the vile insinuations of the fiend, who has already proved to us that he is incapable of being a good Prime Minister. A Labour government would be the final blow to an already weak nation.

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Wednesday February 6, 1974

Queen Anne born, 1665. Death of Charles II, 1685. Death of George VI, 1952.

Although no snow fell overnight, last night's quota is still very evident. The whole lane looks like a picture from a traditional Christmas card. Leave for work at 8. Slide down the lane, up to my ankles in crisp snow.

Speculation about a possible General Election is the main topic of both YP and EP today. I don't know what to think. One thing's for sure, the so-called national strike will be halted if the marxist TUC leaders think that 'Darling Harold' (Wilson) will win the election. All my sympathy goes to Mr Heath. After all, he did his best. It would certainly be a joyous day to have the old boy once again at the helm, as it were, but the possibilities do seem remote. After all, no matter how good a government has been they are seldom returned for a second time. We'll have to wait and see what happens.

Lynn is currently shut away in her room with a chill or something. She looks terribly pale. However, in general, the health of the family is quite remarkable. I am the only one who has ever really missed a lot of time from school - but that was many years ago. John is certainly the healthy one of the clan. To be honest, I cannot remember a day when he's missed time from school, and in 2 years the boy's never missed one day of work.

Sit in bed browsing through old Agatha Christie novels which are still good the second time around.

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Thursday January 17, 1974

A very satisfactory day. Spend all morning busily filing and by 12.0 am completely finished. Sarah is also on half day. Raining again, but I won't bang on about the weather - thereby avoiding depression among my multitude of readers.

A poor demented MP is now saying that we are all using too much electricity for domestic purposes. We all ought to be cleaning our teeth without the bathroom light on, and sitting around in a darkened lounge staring at a blank tv screen, perhaps making models out of old, and rare, toilet rolls. Anyway, we are all frantic with the speculation that Mr Heath will have his election before February 7. The Tories are 2 points ahead of everyone in the last Gallup poll - and the Tory back-benchers are urging Uncle Ted to dissolve. Not personally of course, but Parliament that is. He'll have to go see the Queen of course.

At 12.0 I went to have my hair cut. Emerging 60 minutes later looking somewhat replenished - my hair shorter - surprise Mum and Dad with my new image. Mum and Dad go to Morrison's and I watched a good film on the BBC. Settled down in front of the tv - do not intend going out tonight. See 'Tomorrow's World' and 'Top of the Pops'.

Retired to bed early. Read a good book on the life of Sir Thomas More, a victim of King Henry VIII - not a biography though.

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Wednesday January 16, 1974

Election speculation continues. Poor Mr Heath must be quite distraught. I do expect that old Harold (Wilson) is lapping it up.

The Royal Family have cancelled all engagements until after the funeral of Lady Patricia Ramsay on Monday. It should be a nice break for them all, because they cannot have got on too well with old Pat, a bit of a recluse.

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Tuesday January 15, 1974

The whole nation is hysterical. Today no trains ran anywhere in the United Kingdom, and the general feeling is that the General Election will take place before February 14. It seems as though the Three Day Week will last into the Spring, and it was announced on the 9 o'clock news that a massive toilet roll shortage will make rationing inevitable. From Thursday everyone in Britain with the surname beginning with A and B and ordered to attend their local Post Office in order to collect toilet paper rationing books. Each person is allowed three 5in squares of paper per week. However, many people with foresight who realised that legislation was inevitable have made ample provision for the coming 'Three Day Shit'. Mr Heath, for one, had 7,000 rolls of Kleenex toilet paper delivered to Chequers early this morning. And by the looks of things he's going to need every single sheet before the winter is over.

By this time next month 10, Downing Street, my have a new occupant. I wonder whether Mrs Gormley will re-decorate the Cabinet Room? I wouldn't be surprised to find she's already chosen the curtain material.

Go to Leeds on the 33 bus. Arrive YP at 8.30. Lousy day. Miss Went yelled at me for forgetting that certain pictures should have been returned, and I'd filed them. Janice was on half day. I'm having Thursday again. Intend having my beautiful locks removed - haven't had a decent haircut since July!

Chose 2 pairs of shoes from Muriel Rawnsley's catalogue. Bed at 11.0.

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