YP until 4. Doesn't feel like a Saturday at all. The papers are full of the 'plane crash in Rawdon last night, in which eight men died. I wondered what all the fuss was as I passed through Rawdon. Never seen so many ambulances in one place at once.
Kathleen had a go at me this morning about doing a days' work! I sit biting my tongue because if anyone does two days work in one day it's Mr Bloody Michael Bloody Rhodes!
Do filing till 4, then attempt to get a bus home, which I do successfully at 5.30. All the buses are packed out and I don't fancy having to use West Yorkshire transport after my pass expires on Dec 21. It's back to the trains for me.
Dog tired on my arrival at Pine Tops and sleep in the chair whilst the TV moans miserably in the background. John, Lynn and Dave Baker go with the crowd to Philip Cartwright's annual Conservative Christmas orgy - attended by the Right Honourable Giles Shaw, MP no less.
I see a film with Mum and Dad and sit with a glass of horrid sherry and a packet of Polish cigs. Bed at about 12. Makes a changing staying within the precincts of ones own home.
-==-
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 giles shaw. Show all posts
Showing posts with label giles shaw. Show all posts
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Saturday August 31, 1985
Moorhouse Inn Hilda: blue. Wet day. The marriage of Diane Gadsby and Paul Anthony Edwards at Pudsey St Lawrence. Ally went off at 8:30am to...

-
Moorhouse Inn 2nd Sunday in Lent with dear Phyllis. Drizzle. Up for a full-English. Samuel is much better behaved without the influence of ...
-
Moorhouse Inn Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has...