Showing posts with label hermit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hermit. Show all posts

20121214

Thursday December 15, 1977

Full of cold. Water is pouring from my every molecule. It wouldn't be so bad but my visit to London on the morrow will be completely ruined.

Sarah and John MacMurray came tonight and we went to the Hermit (Burley Woodhead) for a drink. I hate it because of my state of health. ________.

Home at 11 and pack everything including plastic flowers, morning coat and false facial attire. Off to bed. Shit, I'm going to die, I think.

-=-

Saturday February 1, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ A day of industry. Ally made a corned beef hash and floated chunks of pickled beetroot on her plate. A real ...