Wednesday January 3, 1979

Ruth Rhodes (nee Upton)

Still snow. We have just been having a laugh talking about our ancestry. Dad's paternal grandfather must have been a frightening character. He had long, flowing white hair, and always wore a black apron. The only thing Dad remembers about John Henry Rhodes's house is the piano with brass candle~holders, and the large, framed portrait of Gladstone on the wall. (Dad says jokingly: "Or was it Disraeli?") The picture frightened him almost as much as grandad did. John Rhodes (1866-1948) was a strong nonconformist lay preacher, and he sang solo in the chapel on Sundays. He was partially blinded when making  his own fireworks when aged 13 or 14. His wife, Christiana Ross, came from a moderately wealthy background, related to the Ross mill owners in Bramley. She died when my father was five or six years old (in June, 1939), and his only memory of her is when she was 'lying in state' in the front parlour after her demise. What did these aloof, God~
fearing folk make of the family of the woman who married their son, Albert Rhodes (1901-73) ? I shudder to think. The Uptons were a colourful bunch of people. My paternal grandmother was Ruth Ellen Upton, the illegitimate daughter of Polly Upton (1882-1932). Polly was from Sussex and spent her formative years on Epsom racecourse. It is said that the father of her illegitimate daughter was a member of the racing fraternity. Polly was only 18 years old when Ruth was born on September 3, 1900. A few years later Polly married Charles Edwin Henty, a jockey, and had a further thirteen consumptive children. In about 1913/14 Charles Henty came to Yorkshire to the stables of the wealthy Gunter family at Wetherby. At the outbreak of the Great War he went off to Europe to fight for King & country, and Polly took her growing brood off to Leeds to find work. The story goes that the first time my grandmother ever saw a tram she worked on it - Ruth would have been about fourteen. She later worked in a woollen mill in Bramley where she met Albert Rhodes. They married at Bramley register office in March, 1922. John Rhodes, the singing Methodist, boycotted the wedding because Ruth was a Roman Catholic. He didn't speak to his son for years, and comfortably off himself, he almost allowed his family to starve during the depression. My Uncle Harry was born in Oct 1922.

-=-

Friday January 6, 1978

Epiphany. Delivered my application form back to YTV and all I can do now is wait and hope. The girls were ever so curious when I left the office at noon and headed in the direction of the TV headquarters. They suspect I'm having a clandestine meeting with someone. Good, I'll keep them guessing.

Toy Womble...

Tonight David L phoned and we decided to go out to the Fox & Hounds. It was just like old times with just the two of us having a drink and a chat. I am always so happy and at ease when David is around. He is a real true friend. Chris, Pete M, Steve Hudson, Martyn and Tony came in later on followed by Laura Pattison (nee Butchart) and husband, Dave. Chatted to Tony. _______. At 11 they all shot off to Oakwood Hall and Dave and I paid a visit to John and Maria's. They were entertaining George and Jane, but they left on our arrival. David can be delightfully malicious on occasions. He told Maria that he hoped she wouldn't be jealous that was intending to go to Lynn & Dave's wedding when he hadn't bothered to turn up at her and John's! Laughed and tittered, we did. Maria gave David a massive quantity of vodka and me some revolting coffee wine which came from Dad. We stayed until after 1:00am and David played happily with JPH's toy 'Womble'.


-=-

Friday September 30, 1977

Martyn.

Baby John's first birthday. John called in at lunchtime to collect the presents. The house on Silverdale Drive is up for sale and John has every intention of purchasing two broken down old cottages and a couple of acres of land at Stranraer (north of the border). He's packing in his job too - in these days under a Labour government and with seven billion unemployed. I'm afraid I'm sceptical about the whole business _______.

I phoned Martyn this evening after first attempting to contact Tony, who wasn't in. I haven't heard from Tony all week, which is unusual. Lynn had a brief conversation with him and told him she was engaged. He had already been informed of this via Chris R last week. He doesn't know whether he'll make it to the engagement party either because he and Tony are probably going with Chris to Rossendale. __________.

I informed Martyn of my intention to stay at home this evening, by my fireside, quietly reading 'Decline and Fall'. This I did.

-=-

Sunday September 25, 1977

16th after Trinity. John's 21st birthday. ________.WE ARE A UNITED FAMILY.

John: 21st birthday.

Decline and Fall.

Joy went back to Leeds last night and is going to visit Paul (with the handbag) in Halifax today. Jacqui slept here on the settee. We had breakfast at about 11.30 and John came up afterwards and we celebrated his birthday with a few bottles of wine, which saw us through until about 2. Dom(inic) Melville, whose birthday was yesterday, joined us. Jacqui demonstrated the art of tap dancing on our kitchen floor which was hilarious. Lynn loved every minute of it.

John (who had gone home at 12) returned at 2 in pouring rain to commandeer Pete and I for a spot of labouring work. We dismantled a porch and carried it from Netherfield Road to some remote part of Guiseley and helped to erect it there. It was his birthday present. (The labouring). I haven't given him a proper present yet. He quite understood. He called me a 'bastard'. The three of us did a lot of laughing. John was especially cheerful.

Peter and I returned to Pine Tops and had a late lunch, or tea. Jacqui had a pleasant chat with Mum and Lynn. We watched TV and I refused to leave my chair until after 8.

Joy returned at about 7.30. She hadn't been to Halifax and instead her lover came to Leeds. The poor soul has no sense of direction. They left at about 8.30 and I promised to go to Muswell Hill on October 8. Jacqui is a nice girl.

In bed tonight reading 'Decline and Fall' by Evelyn Waugh. A very good novel. In fact I was sat laughing in bed. Ho Ho Ho.

-=-

Tuesday July 26, 1977

Maria's 19th birthday. Mum saw John today and he said he's taking her out for dinner to celebrate.

Tuesday June 7, 1977

A tremendous historic day. I had a restless night and alighted from my bed just after nine this morning. Took a seat near the television and remained in that position all day.

No words can adequately describe the pageant of the procession through London to St Paul's Cathedral by the Queen and the Duke in the State coach - not used since her coronation 24 years ago this month. The Queen was dressed in pink and looked amazing. In the cathedral, and later at the Guildhall, she seemed to be overcome with emotion and appeared 'lost' amidst it all - very unusual because I have never seen her show emotion at all. The crowds in the Mall were wondrous and the balcony scenes- in pouring rain - were magnificent. The Peter Lazenbys and Willie Hamiltons of this world have lost.

Balcony scene: June 7 1977

John and Maria called in this afternoon to see if someone could babysit for JPH tonight. They're going out with Molly and Jim tonight. (John says Jim won £40 on the horses yesterday). ______. Mum and Dad went down to Silverdale Drive at 7.15. Neither in boisterous mood.

Tony phoned and I told him that Il Trovatore was completely 'out' tonight due to lack of funds and I was faced with the prospect of a night alone. Lynn is working at the Hare. Sue and Peter are out. So just after 7.30 I took to my bath. Watched television. Yes, the edited highlights of the Jubilee with an excellent commentary by Tom Fleming, and at 11 a Laurence Oliver/Katharine Hepburn epic. To bed at 1am.

The close of a magnificent day of pageant, splendour and occasion. Let's hope that the Queen will be around in another 25 years time because Elizabeth is all that the United Kingdom can ever be.

-==-

Thursday May 26, 1977

Just three hours at the YP - 9 to 12. A hot day again. Ate fish and chips in Guiseley and then went home for a large lunch. My God I'm going to become a fat swine. Carole rang me at 10.30 just to make sure I haven't forgotten. I assure her I could never forget. She now says she's wearing a red outfit tonight. Isn't she incredibly sweet discussing her wardrobe with me - My God, it's like the 'olden days'.

Tell Mum and Dad over lunch my Spanish idea and they say just what they said when I put forward the idea last summer: 'Now is the time to go. You are only young once', &c. I must say that in this field dear Mama and Papa have always encouraged me and I cannot help thinking that I'd be doing them a favour by clearing off. Not going to mention anything to Carole because it may prove alarming - if you know what I mean.,

Tony rings at 7.30 and suggests Carole and I go down to Ilkley for a drink but I want to be alone with her. Then John rings and says he and Maria want to join us and I say I'll meet them at the White Cross at 9 o'clock. Meet Carole at 8 and she shows me a jagged scar on her face which she supposedly accidentally inflicted upon herself 'picking up a broken cup in the kitchen'. It is obvious the some person or persons unknown did this to her. I do not question her about it but it is quite hideous.

Things don't go as well as last week, and last week didn't go quite as well as the week before and it is obvious that some deterioration in our newly rekindled friendship is taking place. We squabble and she becomes aggressive and childish about my smoking.

John and Maria came at 9 and after a drink we move on to Bingley (John and M in the car and me and C on the bus) and then from the pub the four of us go to Oakwood Hall. For some reason I become quite pissed and all memories of what exactly took place are vague. Remember seeing Keith Brown, Sandy Lawson and of course the intrepid Christine Braithwaite. Carole and I cheer up somewhat and vow not to argue again. It would perhaps help if we were left alone in future. Back at 2am in a taxi laughing a good deal.

-==-

Sunday May 22, 1977

Sunday after Ascension. A pity about last night because I liked the girls. But half a bottle of Scotch inside Tony finished off the relationship with a certain sordid flourish. It's unlike Tony because he isn't usually rude like that. he made endless apoligies about it afterwards pacing up and down the flat with his hair standing on end saying: "silly, silly boy".

I sat in a chair by the open window watching the sunrise but fell into bed wearing socks and shirt at about 5am waking seven hours later.

A brilliant, hot, sunny day. After a bit of cleaning round Tony and I got to the Rose and Crown for one final Sunday lunch drink. Then it was back to a deserted Pine Tops for coffee, a bath and slices of cheese on toast. There was no sign of any of the family when I left for the YP at 4.45pm.

Tony: pacing around with hair standing on end

Poor Tony _______.When he drove me home from Ilkley this afternoon I just sat and laughed at him. We laughed about Carole playing hard to get. Who would have believed any of it?

Nothing of interest at the YP. Telephoned Mama who says she spent the day at John & Maria's. Left at 11 with my eyes feeling like lead.

The taxi driver seemed to have an interest in the English language, particularly slang, and demonstrated his interest by the use of several words of a very coarse nature in some of his sentences. He was also a keen follower of the pop scene taking a particular interest in the charming songs performed by the Stylistics.

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Tuesday April 19, 1977

Got to work and felt particularly violent towards the moronic inhabitants of the crumbling building of my employ. Matt Shelley for one moved to the top of my assassinations list. Blimey, just because he's got no legs he thinks he can get away with bloody murder. Well, I for one don't have one ounce of pity or sorrow for him. Being pushed around all day eh! OK Big Matt I must say that reduces me to tears. If you want to go messing around with fast cars you must suffer the consequences. Piss off, old man!

Isn't it strange how I become enraged by certain people? Am I perhaps the murdering kind? No doubt at this very minute a Scotland Yard detective is combing these very pages for evidence. Well, hard luck, Constable. I'm not telling you just who I've killed or under which cabbage patch he or she is buried.

The Prince of Wales dined at Chequers last night and met the Cabinet. Queen Victoria wouldn't have liked that idea at all.

with Carole

Two phone calls at tea time. Auntie Mabel phones to say she met the ancient sister of one of Grandma Wilson's bridesmaids in Pudsey who told her that John Wilson married Levinyer Wood at St Paul's, Richardshaw Lane, and that my great-grandmother Wood had a baby daughter who died, also named Mabel. Good old auntie doing some family research for me.

Martyn rang to say the date with Gayle and 'Emu' is on for Friday. He suggested Manningham Fair but we debate whether the fair will still be there by Friday. Who can we contact to find out? Martyn suggests the Minister for Home AFFAIRS. No doubt my FAIRY godmother will drop in later with the answer.

Martyn thinks I'm insane dating the famous Emu. Even Tony, who falls for anything in knickers, gives great belly laughs when he hears her name mentioned. Do they know something perhaps which I do not? Can one catch horrible, incurable diseases from the emu? Tell me now before it's too late.

At 7.30 I went round to Ridgeway to see John and Maria who are in residence in the absence abroad of Jim and Molly. John is out with George (Waite) and Maria is entertaining Carole - our first meeting since March 9. Why does Carole bring out the imbecile in me? I go incredibly childish, and so too does Maria. The atmosphere is so infectious. We made such a racket laughing and forgot about the baby until John came in and reminded us. It must have been Ridgeway too .... memories of Carole, John, Maria, &c. You know the rest. She didn't mention Fogarty and neither did I. John drove me home at 10.30.

See funny old President Carter on the BBC.

-=-

Sunday April 17, 1977

Low Sunday. Come to think of it, I didn't feel particularly high today. Don't get me wrong, I'm not really 'low' but I have been 'higher' at former times of my existence. For instance, I was very 'high' on New Year's Eve. Oh, belt up, you fool.

John brought the car up (it ceased to function this morning) and he spent all day with Dad and Dave B messing about with it in sub-Spring-like temperatures on the drive. I read 'Your Dear Letter'. Watched a Margaret Rutherford/Alastair Sim epic. Films of this nature are usually about half way through when Dad comes in and rolls on the floor moaning: 'now you know why so many cinemas closed down in the 1950s'. I happen to like old films.

To the YP this evening. Yes, work. Low Sunday really fits now. Nothing of interest at the YP. Get on with Ursula so very well but need not comment on it here.

Saturday's nationals all fell for the Kensington Palace  'deliberate mistake' re the so-called 'Lord Culloden' fiasco. The Times especially went on to comment on what a delightful title it is, and how apt it should come back into circulation in this year, the 230th since the death of the Duke of Monmouth (sic) lost in battle there. Bollocks, if you pardon my expression.

Taxi home at 11.30pm. The driver seemed quite normal. Oh yes, I do get odd cab drivers occasionally. On particularly odd, at the forefront of my mind, considers himself to be the world's greatest living expert on snakes, and advised me how successfully to run away from one if I'm ever suddenly confronted by a venomous creature. Another is a qualified meteorologist. These cabbies trap innocent, sleepy victims, such as I, and proceed to pour out their secret plans for world domination. Oh, yes. I've met the next Adolf Hitler on several occasions en route from Leeds to Guiseley. What is worse some even attempt to be amusing.

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Saturday April 16, 1977

Arose at 10.30am to a brilliant morning. The warmest of the year so far. Mum and Dad go off to the cash and carry in Leeds and they give me a lift to Guiseley with my library books. A 60p fine for allowing four miserable volumes to go two weeks overdue! A somewhat severe penalty don't you think? Blimey, one would think I'd torn them into tiny pieces and devoured them. Back home by 12.

Have two cups of coffee and look at volumes of Queen Victoria's correspondence with the Empress Frederick, 1861-1871.  I believe I've read the 'Dearest Child' letters which covers the period prior to 1868, I'm not sure. I also got two volumes of Trollope's 'Palliser' novels. Don't know whether I'll read them or not.

Later sat in deckchairs at the front of the house with Mum whilst Dad messed about under the car. John and Maria brought baby at 1.30 and Maria went off shopping to Bradford leaving both Johns with us. The baby is taking much more notice of things. A delight he really is. Expect to see Tony who said he might call in with his son, Stephen, who is two and a half, but we see no sign of him.

I retired to the lounge at 3 to watch the ancient film 'The Winslow Boy' on BBC2. Sue and Peter joined me with JPH and they attempted to feed him with chocolate buttons and a Milky Bar.

At tea time Maria returns from her shopping trip with a Boots gift token for 'someone' she tries not to mention. Is it perhaps for Miss Phillips's engagement? I wonder. Why keep it all a secret?

John announces he is going to the Hare and so I give in and say I will join him. Willpower isn't one of my strongest points really. Out to the Hare. Stand with CB for an hour until she goes off with Chris Blades. I then spotted Cowie (remember him? The Emmotts with June, Linda West and me in the Spring of 1973). I stood with him and his common-law girlfriend until closing time. He gave me his address and said something about keeping in touch. Great stuff. Pete M is hilarious. 'Orgasm' appears to be his favourite word at the moment. He must have just discovered them or something.  Supped Guinness tonight.

Tony and Linda came in at 10 o'clock. We were all laughing about Christmas babies for some reason.

-==-

Friday Apirl 8, 1977

Good Friday. Helen Malin, 23. Out of bed at 10.30 this morning. The sun is shining down merrily too. Why not go out for a walk, Michael, and feel all that warmth on your little legs? Yes, I will. I go down into Guiseley and purchase a birthday card for dearest Judith. I then sauntered round to Bedside Manor to deliver up my greetings card in person with strict instructions for her not to open it yet. In fact, I'd slipped a letter in with it and had to partially write it in the telephone box on Fieldhead Road and partly on the footpath outside Guiseley School.

Judith entertains me to coffee but looks ill because she has fallen foul of her dentist earlier this week, and her wisdom teeth had been extracted on my birthday, of all days.

Old photographs and her cat were the principal subjects discussed at great length.

I went home for a non-existent lunch with Mama, who is in a foul mood. (Dad is still on his back under the car all covered in motor oil). Mum's mood worsens and the combined effects of her miserable face and the film 'South Pacific' didn't do much for morale. But at 5 o'clock, as if by magic, the film was interrupted by a news flash and a smiling Richard Baker announces that Princess Anne is expecting a baby in November. Joyous news indeed. For such an announcement to come on Helen Malin's birthday is fate indeed. I believe we have a bet on Princess Anne's maternity dates. Fancy. The Queen a grandmama! Good Old Captain Phillips. I was beginning to doubt his masculinity somewhat. Three cheers for them all.

High Society

John and Maria come up at 6.30 for ten minutes. John's car is also knackered. Even as I write this I can hear Mama blowing her mind over her fish pie in the kitchen.

Devouring my (fish) pie I decided to remain in front of the television tonight and not to venture out to the pub, as tradition demands. Yes, your eyes are not deceiving you. My decision has nothing to do with Princess Anne's good news either. I am not clad in my Union Jack underpants and clutching my postcard of Anne and Mark's wedding. My decision was due to the BBC. Yes, a tv series about slavery that's brought the USA to a stand still - called 'Roots'. The household is in great holiday furore. Not a morsel of food or drink in the place because you know what mother's are like when it comes to leaving grub kicking around in the fridge for more than 24 hours with no one in the house to eat it? Dust is flying from suitcases, windjammers, thermos flasks, cotton nappies, &c.

Mum discusses stopping at a pub for lunch tomorrow. "What about the baby?" I ask. "Oh, we're bona fide friends". Eh?  "Well", continued mother yawning "JPH has small bona fides". Too much for me is all that.

By 11 we're watching a film starring Twiggy - Mama and Papa having retired to bed. Princess Grace and Bing Crosby are on the other channel in that smashing epic they usually put on at Christmas - 'High Society'. What this film has in common with the birth or death of Jesus Christ I simply don't know.

-=-

Thursday April 7, 1977

Last day at the office before the commencement of the Easter holiday. Can't say I'm not looking forward to it. Haven't had a break since Christmas.

Dad: his car's MOT.

Tempted to go down to the Hare but decide against it. Must conserve a few bob for the gathering in Cumbria. Looking forward to seeing Uncle Harry again.

Rang Dave L at 8. He's going to the Hare with a couple of friends from Bradford tonight and mentions seeing Chris R and John & Maria earlier in the week. Why hasn't he been to see me? I'm jealous.

Watch TV until midnight with Mama. Dad and Dave B are under the car outside. It's having its MOT on the morrow and they're desperate to ensure it gets through. I couldn't do it myself. Cars are the curse of the 20th century. Will they still be around in the next century? The Arabs will own all the natural resources by then, and so I doubt it. Don't talk to me about North Sea Oil either. That's the biggest swindle since the Common Market. Besides, Scotland will be independent by 1990, and so that will be out.

-=-

Friday March 25, 1977

To tea at John & Maria's straight from the YP. John is looking really suave. Really. A fancy hair style. He's also slimmed down.

with JPH.

I took JPH two chocolate bars and fed him with one. The more he's 'roughed up' the more he screams for more. He loves being dangled with both feet on the floor. He'll be walking in next to no time.

Don't get home until 8pm and within minutes I'm heading back down the road with Dave B in the (Triumph) Spitfire to the Hare. Joined by CB, Chris, Pete M, and Lynn of course, and others. Carole is in with Peter Fogarty but she doesn't speak to me. She wasn't very forthcoming with Lynn either. No Martyn or Gayle of course, and Tony is out with Mandy Phillips.

At 10 I went through to the cocktail lounge to see Judith. She's a great girl. Stay until 11. Joined by Lynn and Dave. In my absence from the main lounge CB, Pete and Chris slink off to Oakwood Hall.

Home with Lynn and Dave. Caught the end of a grotty Michael Caine spy film.

Dad comes in and announces he's going to be the community constable for Guiseley with no night shifts or weekend work! Just days 9 to 5. It doesn't quite sink in and we just can't believe it.












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Thursday March 3, 1977

I'm just too pissed to write large amounts tonight. In rough: went to John & Maria's from the YP and was entertained to dinner with sausage and chips in the company of Miss Phillips. She aggravated me immensely. Even after all these months we argue about nothing at all - completely incompatible. Whilst I'm dangling JPH on my alcoholic knee I hear Maria & Carole whispering in the kitchen but can't quite make out just what they are saying. Later, when John and I are entombed in the Yorkshire Rose he tells me that Carole and (Peter) Fogarty are considering becoming engaged. It had to happen really. She wants to be married. I saw it years ago and I supposed it scared the pants off me.

with Carole.

John and I marched down to the Hare (about one and a half miles I'd say) and met Tony and Martyn. Got a bit pissed on Tetley Silver Jubilee Pale Ale (half a pint of this is equivalent to 3 whiskies). John poured some of his ale into my glass. I was well away.

Back at J and M's residence I persuaded Maria to play Beethoven's 'Fur Elise' while the audience sat supping coffee.

Beethoven's Fur Elise

The recital was very much appreciated. Home at 12 just as Mum and Dad return from Auntie Mabel's. I must go over on March 11 with a birthday present. Her first birthday without Uncle Jack will be obnoxious.

Monday February 21, 1977

It's afternoon when I'm awakened by Susan. She's ridden with another cold. She's like a lobster and sneezing her head off. Mum comes in for lunch and we eat hurriedly because she wants to get back to the grindstone after half an hour or so.

Dad comes in at 3 and says a lunatic from Highroyds threw himself under a train in Guiseley this morning. How he can come home for a hearty lunch after picking up bits of leg, foot and thigh God only knows.

I went to Guiseley Library and got Evelyn Waugh's diaries which have only just been published. CB and I always laugh about Evelyn Waugh, for some reason, and I often sign letters to her 'from Evelyn Waugh's Dad'.

Brisk walk to John and Maria's. Baby is in bed which is disappointing because I wanted to give him some chocolate. Give Maria a run-down on the weekly events and the details of Saturday night's orgy. She enjoys tales of carnage and lewd goings on.

Dave Lawson.

Back home by 5.30. Sue says Dave L's been on the phone. I ring him. He's on half-term until Wednesday. He comes for me at 8.30 and I'm surprised when he suggests we go to the Commercial. He hates the place, but his excuse is that it won't be quite so busy in the week. It's great going out with David because it's brilliant and soothing to know I'm not the only skint guy in the British Isles. After a couple of drinks we go on to see John & Maria who, unbelievably, are tucked up in bed at 9.30pm. This really made David's night and he pulled Maria's leg. John is given the quest of finding David a buck rabbit before he returns to Gloucester on Wednesday. Good old Mr Lawson. Surely one of the greatest persons I have ever met. Won't be seeing him again until CB's party on March 11.



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Sunday January 30, 1977

4th after Epiphany. Up at 12 noon just as John and Maria arrive with JPH in his perambulator. He's parked in the lounge and the usual race follows to see which member of the family can first lay hands on him. The porridge he'd had for breakfast at Molly's didn't stay down. In fact he brought a fair amount of it up all over me. Lynne clears off in the direction of Chris's at Horsforth to collect Peter M for the great trek back to Ty-Onnen. Why do they have to go home just for one bloody night?

John and his first-born.

We had lunch at 2. Peter N included which is quite a laugh because he always 'has a go' at Mum. He has a great sense of humour.

I work tonight. Yes, I give the YP use of my amazing brain for one whole evening. Work 6.20pm - 1am. Not too bad an onslaught really. Did about 48m tons of filing. Oh God, I'm confused again. Women, I'm afraid. Ring Judith and arrange to go see the 'Pink Panther' next Wednesday. We joke about our constant failure to see the danmed thing. Since the Wednesday after Christmas the arrangements have gone hay-wire. Rang Dave Glynn and had a chat.


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Saturday January 29, 1977

Emerge (from my bed) at 11 or so and hear that Lynn and Lynne are going shopping together to Bradford this afternoon which is a relief because NEVER AGAIN will I go shopping with Miss Mather. Our shopping excursion the Saturday before Christmas was one of the most nauseating experiences I have ever had. I'm not joking either. She goes down to Burley-in-W (Lynne that is) to see Stephanie Ferguson about sharing her country residence and comes back saying the rental for the room is £7 plus food and half the bills. Not bad because she forks out £7 already in petrol each week.

Lynn in her dungarees.

Lynn and Lynne return from Bradford at 5 o'clock with a pair of dungarees each. _______. We go to to the Hare at 9 o'clock after collecting John and Maria from Molly & Jim's. Chris, Pete M, Lynne, Lynn, Dave B, Sue, Peter N, Christine D, Graham (Airey), CB (with Rick Marshall !!). Quite a good evening really, especially when Chris gave me the £5 he'd borrowed and which I'd quite forgotten about. Stay at the Hare until 11 and then we take John & Maria back to Molly & Jim's where we remain until 3.15am talking with Molly. She went into great detail about an Edward G. Robinson film that had just finished on the telly. I think she's tremendous and sit enthralled, but by 2.45 John and Lynne were asleep. Only Maria and I survived.

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Thursday January 20, 1977

That American slug, Jimmy Carter, became 39th US president today. Poor Henry Kissinger is no longer secretary of state and that nice Mr Rockerfeller's gone too, not forgetting President Ford, who was a good guy. This peanut breeder (sic) doesn't look up to much. He seems incapable of making intelligent conversation and I'm sure he'd make a better lyricist than a politician. Hammerstein and Carter, yes that's better. Why do I say this you ask? Well, everything he says seems to rhyme in a sickening sort of way. Enough of him anyway.

Master John Rhodes

Went to the Register Office in Leeds today and got the birth certificate of Christiana Ross (my great-grandmother Rhodes). She was born at Bramley on December 18, 1865. 112 years ago. Gee Whiz, it's Alfred the Great here we come.

Lynne came at 7.30 and we watched TV for a couple of hours. Went down to see John & Maria. JPH is a victim of the dreaded GERMAN MEASLES! The poor child looked ghastly, and it quite upset us all. Maria especially was very pale. Home at 11.30 to tell Mama of her grandson's ailment. Panic stations, nearly.

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Saturday December 25, 1976

Christmas Day. Wake up at 9.30 or so on Lynn & Sue's bedroom floor. Go for a 'Merry Christmas' session around the house first paying a call on John, who is sat in my bed nursing JPH. Mum and Dad are downstairs and I can hear Maria talking with Lynn and Susan. John says he has recovered from the illness that descended on our house like a plague yesterday. The baby is laughing and gurgling - so fantastic. His first Christmas.

John, Mum, Maria and JPH, Christmas Day, 1976

Meanwhile 10 minutes later: we all gather in the lounge for the present opening ceremony. The baby is amused with the Mickey Mouse brought to him by Santa. I have a black pullover from Sue & Peter, Eau Savage from Lynn & Dave, and the same from Miss Thornton-le-Dale. Mummy and Daddy gave me £5. That's enough present details. It gets monotonous. Late lunch at about 4pm. It is fabulous. A candelabra on the table and Royal Albert china. Posh eh?

Laze around for the rest of the night. See the usual things on TV like Morecambe & Wise and then Rod Steiger in 'Waterloo' and much more. Sleep kept creeping upon me and I frequently passed into unconsciousness in the chair. A lovely Christmas day - but unusual. Probably because John's always been here on Christmas Day and he was round at Molly & Jim's for lunch. Mum keeps mentioning his name as though he's miles away.

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