Sunday January 20, 1980

_.2nd Sunday after Epiphany

Ally was up and off to Bradford at 9:30. I got up to a grilled breakfast and the Sunday Observer.

John Rhodes

John, Dad's brother, phoned to say he's home from Lanzarote for a few weeks. I spoke to him and he told me of his stomach ulcer and the hideous Christmas in the Canaries. He issued a royal command calling Mum & Dad to Halifax on Tuesday for dinner with Arnold and Janet.

Mum, Dad and I decided to go out for the afternoon. This proved far more complex and serious than you could possibly imagine. Dad never makes a decision, particularly on Sundays, and the one sided discussion went on far into the afternoon. We went first to Lidget Green and gathered up Ally and then on to St James's Crescent to see Hilda and Tony. We laughed at Tony's long, trailing pullover. Tony got out the old Wilson family Bible and I found a childhood picture of myself sandwiched in the middle of the ancient pages, placed there by my grandmother who died in 1957.

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Friday September 14, 1979

_. Grotesque hangover, and close to death. Caught sight of myself in a mirror in the gents at the YP. Frightening. The years of dissipation have taken their toll. I look like a cross between President Carter and Gloria Swanson. I really should quieten down. I could end up like Richard Burton.

I stumbled upon Christine's phone number [mislaid in July]. Rang her at 3. She married on August 18 and is now studying at night school for a degree in administration to enable her to go with Frank to the United States. She turned down my offer to go out for a lunchtime drink, saying Frank would 'hate that sort of thing' and would 'sulk for hours' if he got wind of it. Blimey, it's not as though we'd be committing adultery. However, she seems very happy and full of her old exuberance.

Out to the Central Station with Jacq. Hair of the dog, and all that. We laughed a good deal.

At 6 Ally came over and we went with Susan to Burley-in-W, and loaded her into Dave's car for our journey to Stranraer. We had a couple of drinks in Kirby Lonsdale, and then motored up that long, dark road. Poor Ally was dead to the world. Arrived at Corner House Cottage at 1am. John so pleased to see us, looking thinner. Bed at 3am.

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Tuesday January 2, 1979

Bank Holiday in Scotland

Dame Gracie Fields.

Mum and Dad's birthday. Snow, bright and clear. Back to the YP for the first time since before Christmas. The New Year Honours list is piled up on my desk. I suspect that they've only given the DBE to Gracie Fields in the hope that the shock might kill her. What a cruel, evil sense of humour I have. Hugh Scanlon is to be made a peer. They might as well make Karl Marx a posthumous Marquess. I don't know why I'm mocking and ridiculing the honours system because really I am all for it.

Tonight. No buses arrive and I don't get home until 6. John, Maria, JPH, Lynn & Dave came to dinner. Sue and Pete of course, too. JPH says his middle name is "Fillet". His swearing has subsided, but he does tend to slap and bash people. Mum succumbed to several heavy blows.

A happy family dinner. Just the tonic for ailing Mum. I gave them both (birthday) cards but no presents. Everybody else seems to have been able to scrape cash together for gifts, but as usual I miscalculated. They don't mind. I told them I'm buying them something on Thursday.

John and Maria left at 10. Late for taking JPH to bed. He managed to burst every balloon in the house and strip the Christmas tree of its pine needles.

Splashed around in the bath. Took to my bed at 1:26am.

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Monday December 25, 1978

Christmas Day Bank Holiday {Scotland}

Still full of cold. Merry Christmas. JPH nipped my nose and it bled. Eeek. Sad news. John's old work~mate, Terry Mellors, was killed in a road accident on Friday, and John was close to bursting into tears when Dad told him at lunchtime. He just sad clutching one of his Christmas presents, looking very pale.

We ate at 4:30 and then collapsed. John and Maria {who had left for Molly & Jim's at about 4:30} came back at 10pm dressed as Scottish punks ~ John in a MacGregor tartan kilt. They danced to Kenneth McKellar records over a pair of crossed walking sticks in the centre of the sitting room. We all remarked afterwards that John would never have done such a thing just a few years ago. He's never been noted for outrageous behaviour.

Maria was bedecked like a Christmas tree with gaily painted balls hanging from her ears.

The house reeks of eucalyptus (sic)

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Monday December 18, 1978

Frosty. Uneventful at the YP. Played cards all afternoon and swilled coffee with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J.

John & Maria: second baby in July

Sarah told me that ________- slept with Eamon Patrick Burke on Friday and then went to a party with him on Saturday. I am barely surprised.

Christine phoned. She's not working on Saturday and so we can both take the Regent by Storm (Chapel Allerton).

I have some really serious joyous tidings. John rang from Stranraer and said he'd be down here on Saturday afternoon. JPH sang 'Jack & Jill' for Mum, all in his fine Scottish accent, and told her that Santa is bringing him a police car and a ball. And then John dropped a bombshell. MARIA IS EXPECTING A BABY IN JULY! Isn't this wonderful news? The Rhodes line is to be properly secured in the year of Mum & Dad's Silver wedding anniversary. I'm overjoyed. _______________.

Sue was out at the Hare until 10:30 with Wendy Wool employees. When she came home I informed her she is to be an aunt again.

By the way I go on and on about babies I bet you are wondering why I don't have any of my own. One day, dear reader, one day.

Bed at 1:04am. Poor Lynn won't get the news until tomorrow.

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Sunday November 26, 1978

27th after Trinity 5th Sunday before Christmas

No hangover. Something of a miracle. David, deathly white, climbed out of bed and went outside to vomit over half of Scotland. Fried breakfast. Maria very cheerful. No mention today of our 'Carole conversation' last night which was a relief really because I didn't want my inner-most private thoughts bandied about over breakfast among the junior, impressionable members of the family.

Though very cold it was a bright and sunny morning and we decided to to go into Stranraer to look at the boats. Purely for JPH's benefit really. JPH is amazing this morning ~ tanking around outside with the 30p I gave him jingling away in his pocket. Funny isn't it how small boys like to stuff their pockets with oddments?

We saw the aircraft carrier HMS Eagle in dock. Not as big as I thought it would be. I don't have any sense of proportion.

Maria and I clowned around and I acted the fool. She called me 'Donal' and I called her 'Sally'. We behaved like morons and our antics went straight over the heads of the others, especially John, who frowned and scowled as I led his wife through Stranaer harbour on a dance of idiocy. I pushed JPH in his pushchair and we were all one big, happy family.

At 2:30 we all kissed goodbye until Christmas and we drove off leaving the three of them framed in the harbour. No stopping on the journey home and we got in at 7:30 quite buggered. Mum made us a big dinner. She thought something was wrong because we were all so quiet, even Lynn, but it was because we were all so tired. Bed after 11.

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Friday November 24, 1978

Felt slightly bog~eyed this morning. My Uncle Albert would have been 83 to~day. Saw Lynn and Dave in Guiseley this morning and scrounged a lift to Leeds.

I busied myself until 12 and then returned home. The bus driver tutted and scowled at me when I told him I had only worked three hours today. Is that ancient institution, the half~day, unheard of in 1978 working life?

At 2:30 Sue, Pete and I left for Stranraer in his car. Lynn and Dave left an hour later because Dave had an appointment with some consultants, which was unfortunate. Pleasant journey. We arrived at Lochans at 7:30. They seem very happy and the caravan isn't the hovel I feared it might be. JPH's swearing isn't too bad ~ or perhaps I should say it hasn't got any worse ~ though I clearly heard him say 'bastard' several times, albeit under his breath. JPH is the most good looking child I have ever seen. John, Sue, Pete and I made off to an off~licence whilst Maria cooked dinner, and we returned with a bottle of whisky and eight or nine cans of ale.

Lynn and Dave arrived at about 9 o'clock and we sat about howling with laughter until about 1am. Lynn was pissed. We slept in sleeping bags, and giggled like four year old children well into the night.

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Thursday November 23, 1978

Lynn phoned this morning. ____________________.

Out tonight with Pete, Gus and Frank. Poor Chippy is in hospital. He was taken ill with appendicitis last night. Otley Hospital is renowned for removing the wrong organs and so by now he is probably minus his liver and kidneys. Women have gone into that place for simple surgery ~ like varicose veins ~ and have emerged having had absolutely everything 'taken away'. That's the National Health Service for you. Let's hope Dr Chippy will be back with us very shortly.

Told the boys of my new situation. Gus suggested that I go with them to Israel in January. No fear. We set out from the Shoulder of Mutton on a 'Carole Phillips Hunt' ~ but the mission proved fruitless. No doubt she was out with Fogarty somewhere. However, her latest beau, Mick Lynch, was in the White Cross, and then the Fox, no doubt on a similar mission, and so we can write him off. I had a sober night. I definitely recall standing in an orderly manner, and in a sober state, at Oakwood Hall. ______________________.

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Wednesday November 15, 1978

Phoned Christine and asked her what she was planning to do next Monday. Unfortunately, she has been invited to a party, but the sadness soon turned to joy and thanksgiving when we discovered ~ to our delight ~ that we have been invited to one and the same function. The so-called buxom Jill ~ whoever she is ~ deserves some kind of payment for managing to throw CB and me together on a Monday evening.

Lynn phoned me. __________________________.

Jacq and I went to the Ostler's at 1pm for revolting toasted cheese sandwiches and warm lager. __________________.

John phoned tonight. It was good to hear him. He was cheerful and blustery. The caravan is bearing up and hasn't collapsed yet. He wanted to know when we are going north to see him. Susan and Pete always decline to discuss the venture. We really must go before December.

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Sunday October 15, 1978

21st after Trinity

Woke up at about 11 ~ on the floor at Lawn Road. Had breakfast and watched the deluge outside from the window. Pissed it down. Dave slung a few records on his stereo and that that set the tone for the day. We almost froze to death too, until they lit the fire at about noon. I don't think they can afford the coal.

At 12:30 we ventured over in the rain to the Red Lion. The landlord their is probably the most miserable pub proprietor in Britain. Rude just isn't the word.

Lynn excelled herself at lunch. Pizzas, roast potatoes, peas, &c. She was beaming all day. She loves seeing us all. She told us she's been really homesick and close to tears at night time. Bless her.

In the afternoon I slept in an armchair. John, Maria and JPH came at 5:30. My nephew walked around the house with his arms clasped behind his back. He loved the journey home in the dark pointing at the 'man in the Moon'. I can already detect a Scottish accent. I must be imagining things.

At home watched 'Lillie Langtry'. It's too slow. Bed at midnight.

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Friday October 13, 1978

Friday the Thirteenth. Nothing ghastly befell me. I had a pint of lager in the Central with Sarah at lunchtime. Poor Jilted John sat at the bar swilling gin and weeping on Dave Bruce's shoulder. He's taken Sarah's renunciation of his affections very badly. We drank our drink quickly and left.

This evening John (my prodigal brother) came at 6:30 and I told him he had to come out with us. Jacq got off a bus at 8:30, and the three of us paid a visit to the Drop where Mrs Hanson howled with laughter at Jacq and I. She's still getting over our visit there at the end of August with Trixie, Lynn and Dave. John looked very well. Maria was down at Carole's catching up on four or five weeks gossip.

From the Drop we went to the Fox and Hounds and then the Commercial, where Annie chatted merrily with us, especially John, whom she hasn't seen since he married. Anne, her niece, is coming over from America in November.

From the Commercial we had one at the Regent in Guiseley. We came back to Pine Tops for home~brew. We were all quite pissed up. Bed at 2.

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Monday October 2, 1978

New Moon 07:41

Jewish New Year 5739 {Rosh Hashanah}

Mum says we must visit John and Maria before Christmas. She says Port Patrick is a lovely place. They say JPH swears like a trooper and attacks any innocent people passing through Lochans whenever he gets the chance. Words like 'bastard', 'shit' and 'bugger' feature strongly in his vocabulary. My Uncle Albert would have been proud indeed.

Jacq phoned this afternoon. _____________.

Peter N phoned this evening. His friend Frank Hall was injured in a car accident on the Chevin Road in Guiseley this evening. He's unconscious in hospital. He was here on Friday eating curry and trying to avoid Sue's apple crumble. Frightening really.

Princess Margaret is now in Australia recovering after an attack of fever which prevented her carrying out official duties in Tuvalu, a pin~prick of an island that was once the Ellice Islands. She was taken seriously ill aboard a New Zealand ship.

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Sunday October 1, 1978

19th after Trinity

Woke up at nearly 1pm. Sue and Pete prepared lunch. I found Jacq sitting in the dining room reading the Sunday Express. We ate lunch in an uncomfortable atmosphere. Jacq didn't speak unless she was pressed into doing so.__________. This nonsense continued throughout John Hanson singing 'Kismet' - very unnecessary warbling - and the broadcasting of the top 20 on Radio 1. ______________________________.

Watched 'Lillie Langtry'. At 9:30 I walked Jacq to her bus. Mum and Dad got back from Stranraer. They've had a tremendous time.

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Friday September 29, 1978

Out of bed at 6:58am and plunged into a hot bath. Whilst tucking into my hot porridge oats I plugged into the radio news at 7:30 and was astounded to hear that Pope John Paul had died in the night from a heart attack after a reign of only 33 days. It's the shortest pontificate since Pope Stephen in 700 AD, or so. I find this hard to take in. Quite ridiculous that all the cardinals are going to have to crawl back to Rome for another conclave.

I spent most of the day playing with the late Pope's pictures. Chris Bye came into the office cheerfully waving a fiver & laughingly told us that on Aug 26 he'd been into Ladbroke's and placed a bet that the new pope would only live for 33 days. Yeah, right. It would finish it off very nicely now if our own Cardinal Hume was elected pontiff. A good English lad at the Vatican to show these Italians a thing or two.

Mum and Dad went off to Scotland this afternoon to see John and Maria in Stranraer. They took JPH's birthday presents with them and are staying for the festivities and returning on Sunday evening.

Tonight I battled through driving rain to see Jacq in Leeds. We met at 8:30 and went to the Central, where she became quite legless on cider. I intended going on a pub crawl but we enjoyed the loud, pulsating music of the disco in the pub, and we stayed until 10:30. She frowned when I suggested moving on to Len's Bar. She knows Sarah hangs out there on Fridays.

I got the last bus out of town at about 11. Sue and Pete were watching TV. He stayed the night. Young love.

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Monday September 25, 1978

John's 22nd birthday. In Stranraer ~ no doubt knee deep in heather, haggis and Moira Anderson. I couldn't think of a more ghastly fate. He received his birthday parcel because Dad ran into Molly and she told him they'd been to Ayr Races and had called to see John and Maria at Lochans at the weekend and his presents were displayed in the caravan. __________.

I met Jacq on Wellington Street at lunchtime and she handed over Sue's shoes and trousers, borrowed on various occasions after 'orgious' activities, &c.

We are going to Lawn Road for tea on Wednesday. Mum and Dad spent the evening with Lynn & Dave tonight, while Sue, Pete and I sat bunched in front of the TV here. I buried myself in Toland's 'Adolf Hitler'. I'm reading about his escapades in the 1920s at the moment.

I poked around in the kitchen undecided about just what to devour and finally gulped down a jar of glacé cherries. To bed at 11.

Note: I knew that Mary Malcolm, the ancient broadcaster, was a granddaughter of Lillie Langtry, but had no idea that Mary's grandfather was H.S.H. Prince Louis of Battenberg, 1st Marquess of Milford Haven.

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Friday September 1, 1978

David B's 'stag night' in Leeds. Jacq came here with me after work and this evening she went with Lynn and her cronies (including Sue of course) to Shipley and the Elma.

Dave and Trevor (his workmate) came here at 8 and we went with Peter N to the Station Hotel, supposedly for a bus. George Waite's car pulled up and out he came with John, Maria and a long~haired Alec McHarrie. ________________. Heavily pregnant Jayne Waite drove us to Jacomelli's in Leeds where things got under way. On to Cinderella Rockerfella's. All quite blurred. I recall attempting to persuade a young lady to call off her wedding set for next Saturday, and to marry me instead. She wasn't particularly attractive either. In fact she was squat and greasy.

Returned to Pool~in~Wharfedale at 2am where Dave, Pete, Trevor and I did hand stands on Pool Bank, and later at Dave's house we drank Audrey's supply of Creme de Menthe, Bailey's Irish Cream, coffee liqueur, and much more. No idea what time we went to bed.

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Sunday July 30, 1978

10th after Trinity

After breakfast we all sped off to Lawn Road for a days work. Jacq was on her hands and knees scrubbing at the staircase. It poured with rain all day and only relented when we were ready to come home at about 7.

The four of us (Lynn, Dave, Jacq and me) crammed ourselves into the Spitfire and had a hilarious drive home over the moor. Lynn was clinging on for dear life.

Back at Pine Tops John, Maria and JPH were paying a visit. JPH is no longer a baby - he's a real little boy - with sturdy legs and flowing hair. He seems to have discovered a temper though. At one point when Maria wouldn't let him play with Susan's sunglasses he exclaimed: "Shit, then!" A deadly silence followed broken only by me giggling.

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Tuesday July 25, 1978

St James

John called up tonight with an advert for the MG that he wants me to stick in the Evening Post. It is Maria's birthday tomorrow. Mum produced a card and a present for her. Sue and Lynn also sent offerings. I limited myself to a tiny, yet hilarious card with one of my odes inside. Andrew Marvell isn't half as marvellous as me.

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Saturday July 1, 1978

Sun rises 04:47 Sun sets 21:21 Dominion Day (Canada)

Jacq and I woke up on Grant's settee surrounded by wine glasses and clothing. A guy was asleep in the hallway and another poor sod was stood in the bathroom unable to decide whether or not to vomit. Jacq collected her handbag and shoes from Grant's bedroom and I heard further squeals of laughter. About 18 people were in one bed.

Out we went into the rain at 9:30. Silly sods were queueing across the road to see the Test match. The Pakistanis are, I think, the offending, marauding team.

My hair was something of a shock first thing, but I'm going to have to live with it.

We caught a bus back into Leeds and made our way to Wellington Street where we made our fond farewells. The two of us are to be parted for three weeks. We have seen each other daily since the beginning of April. After a quick kiss in the rain I departed on a West Yorkshire bus in a homeward direction. At 12:30 she leaves for London, and by nightfall she will be terrorising the Italians. She and Joy will make the Red Brigade look like the Muppet Show.

I was home for 11 and after a miserable breakfast and change of clothing I went off to Burley to lend my shaky, alcohol-filled hand to Dave & Lynn. It was purgatory I can tell you. Scraping old paint off doors for five hours is not the best way to pass a Saturday afternoon. Audrey Baker came in at about 2 with fish & chips.

Back home for tea at 5:20. John, Maria and JPH came to see Mum and Dad. They are going to look at a house on Victoria Road (Guiseley). JPH sat on my knee and showed me a picture book. According to him mice are cows and umbrellas are flowers. He's a delight. I would love six or seven offspring just like him ~ God willing.

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Saturday June 10, 1978

Sun rises 04:44 Sun sets 21:16

Birthday of Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh

At 3:30pm I met Jacq in Guiseley and we tracked down John and Maria at Ridgeway. Maria's parents are visiting Hugh in Canada. Jimmy Mac took some photos of me and Jacq and that was the only bit of excitement other than watching JPH attack an ice lolly. Maria was looking tanned but I was told it's painted on. She'd forgotten to do one of her legs. From 4 until after 6 we sat with John, Maria and Pamela Horrocks (nee Moffat). I was bored but the ladies didn't notice my yawns through the blanket of smog and coal dust thrown out by their endless 'assembly line' of cigarettes. Jacq must have had 10.

By 6pm my polluted lungs could take no more and I dragged Jacq back to Pine Tops for sandwiches. At 8pm Jim and Margaret came and after watching 'The Good Life' on the BBC we went with them and Mama and Papa to a barbecue on Carlton Lane (at Penny's Farm?). Alcohol flowed like pig swill. Our party managed to consume most of it. Sue, Pete, Gus and Chippy were there. The food was mediocre but the company was interesting with such old cronies as John Little, Joan Taylor (Kevin's mother), &c. In fact, all the old Silverdale mob appeared. Jacq, Sue, Pete and I were among the last to leave and Mum and Dad tottered out (both really legless) shortly before us. We were in high spirits. We got home safely enough ( I don't know how) and we immediately plugged in the headphones, selected a suitable record and poured out of the lager.

Mum was locked upstairs in the WC for two or three hours (Oh dear) and so Jacq was forced, much against her will, to urinate in our well stocked herbaceous border. How embarrassing. I had to do the same, but on opening the kitchen door I espied the car abandoned on the drive and I was temporarily distracted from the call of nature. It was the car. It had a huge hole in the right hand wing and a considerable amount of paint was missing. Oh no! But who drove home?

It was almost dawn when Mum alighted from her watery throne and she admits the culprit is she, although she cannot recall striking anything. Obviously, it was a dry stone wall. Dad, who had been too pissed, had handed her the car keys.

Mum was soon in floods of tears. Jacq always sees her in this sorry condition.

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