Sunday December 18, 1977

Jacqui.

_.4th Sunday in Advent. 

To Jacqui's mum's. To a pub where Mrs Holroyd drank pints of Tavern ale. J's brother, Pete, is very likeable. He had only arrived home at 9:30 this morning which his mother found remarkable. Back to J's mum's flat and then to Victoria at 5:30 and left at 6:00pm. Jacqui has invited me down to parties in February and March and I have invited her to Pine Tops for the New Year revelries. In Leeds by 10, and home for 10:45. John, Maria and JPH are just leaving. _________.





-=-

Thursday December 1, 1977

Feel revoltingly weak, dizzy and painful about the head, back, arms, legs. At work I did very little, and after collecting my wage, including a tax rebate of £20 by courtesy of Mr Healey, I left for home.

I took something hot to bed and read 'The Count of Monte Cristo', which I almost finished. Yes, nearly.  You may be needing tranquilisers I know, but there's no point trying to deceive you is there?

with JPH.

Maria, John and JPH came to see us this afternoon. Mum brought the baby up to my room and he crawled about on the floor. He liked my clock and kept saying "tick tock", "shoe", "flower", and made various horse impressions.

Saw 'Top of the Pops' tonight and eventually passed into a coma. For God's Sake I hope nobody creeps into my room during the night and switches off my life support machine.

Carole's latest treatment was a success and she may be out of hospital by Christmas. I was supposed to see her today but when she telephoned me with the news I told her I was ill. Bless her.

-=-

Tuesday November 29, 1977

Sarah is still ill. I realised something was afoot last week. I put her listlessness and complete lack of interest down to the fact that she had tired of my company. Maybe a bit of both.

Simon Regan.

Derek Naylor lent me Simon Regan's new book 'Margaret: A Love Story'. Good of him. The book however is not up to much and is riddled with errors throughout. One cannot help thinking that if he can make so many errors with the known facts how far can we trust him with the juicy, gossipy bits he says are authentic? Not far if you ask me.

Went to see Carole at 2:30. Her face is still swollen slightly. She is entertaining her Mum and 'Auntie' Anne, who are kept busy making Christmas decorations. She walked me to the stairs at the end of the ward at the close of my visit. I hadn't realised just how frail she actually is. I had to support her all the way, and as we walked, arm in arm, down the long, shiny floored corridor I remarked how much it was like getting married.

Maria and baby JPH came at 3:10pm. ________.The baby was rosy cheeked and had a marvellous set of teeth. He has all the attributes of a future Conservative prime minister. I told Carole I'd return on Thursday.

Tomorrow she is undergoing yet another 'milogramme' or whatever. She's got the bravest little character on earth ______.

-=-

Sunday November 6, 1977

22nd after Trinity. Felt ghastly this morning. John brought JPH round after breakfast. He's grown tremendously, crawls backwards over the floor and says 'hello', 'flowers', 'dog', and 'daddy'.

Mum and Dad don't appear aggravated about the numerous guests asleep all over the house, and after they'd gone all I got was a sigh from Mum and she said that perhaps I'd invited a few too many to stay under the one roof.

John G, Phil, Kath, Michelle and Steve left at 11am because Kath and Phil have a luncheon appointment with relations. A damned shame because I intended having a big 'do' at the Commercial. A short, quiet visit really, but they can't be idiots permanently like some nameless beings are.

Mum looked after JPH and John, Dave, Sue and Pete and I went down to the pub. Joined by Tony. Afterwards we went down to Ings Lane (or Avenue) to look at a house that Lynn and Dave fancy.

Mum with Lynn , Dave, and Edith.

Back home we have sangria with the Blackwells, then more wine, sangria, wine, sangria, wine, wine, &c. Edith looked ill, old and semi-senile. Quite suddenly the woman's gone down hill. I'm sure Ernest knows she's faded too. She just sat, not speaking, and so dull.  Not a bit like the Edith of old.

At 8.30 Dave, Sue, Pete and I went with Tony and Martyn to meet Chris and Pete M at North Rigton. From here we went to a pub at Pool in Wharfedale, where I was knackered, miserable and thoroughly boring.

Martyn was attempting to be 'bitchy' and sarcastic with me but failed miserably so I had to give him lessons. He was joking with Pete M about my moustache but I beat all the quips when I said I'd had it grafted 'off my arse'. Martyn went hysterical at this. If a job's worth doing it's worth doing properly. I can think of nothing more pathetic than a wise cracker who is neither wise nor particularly cracking. Back home by 11.

Pete M told me I could have Lynne back at any time I wished and that she still loves me. He also went on to say I was slipping in my old age and that the millions of my female followers, who have always been my trade mark, have now deserted me. For Christ's sake, who does he think he is? Peter Mather giving me, Michael Rhodes, advice on the female species! That is the laugh of the month, I think.

-=-

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.

-=-

Friday June 17, 1977

Awoke in chaos at 7.15. Karen (Cole) is on the rampage screaming at Martyn for sleeping in. Mick Stirling, Richard Brabiner and Julie Webster are in residence and must have come back after we'd retired. Martyn and Karen argued like cat and dog. She took Martyn to work at 7.30 and Richard Brabiner to his place of employment. __________.Mick Stirling tells me he drinks six pints of milk a day. Such a vast quantity cannot be beneficial, surely? I'm home by 7.50 and as I step down the garden path I see Jim preparing to leave. Took breakfast with Lynn and Sue and then they bombed off in the spitfire at 8.30.

Princess Marie-Astrid.

Hear on the radio that the palace have denied that an engagement is on the cards between the Prince of Wales and Princess Marie-Astrid of Luxembourg. This must mean it's a spring wedding 1978 style. What do you think? No doubt by the time you read this the fair haired Serene Highness is the dear old Queen Mother, eh?

To Silverdale Drive at lunchtime to see John, Maria and JPH. The baby is thriving and is endowed with a profusion of teeth but takes quite some time to recognise his haggard uncle. The unfortunate child hasn't seen me since God knows when. John went to work after his lunch and Maria, baby and I went into Guiseley. We phoned Carole who told Maria she's going out with Fogarty tonight 'because he knows how to treat a girl properly'.

Out tonight with Martyn, Sue and Pete N, first to the Fox & Hounds and then (aargh yes) to the Hare. Martyn looking for a female he's had his eye on. She wasn't anywhere to be seen. Judith apologised to me for not contacting me in over a month. Blimey, it was me who cleared off without so much as a word, but I didn't let on.

Back to Pine Tops. Fell to sleep in the chair. Completely shagged out.

-=-

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.

-==-

Monday May 23, 1977

Dull, overcast day. The YP wasn't in any way exciting and so I won't bother you with any of the miserable details.

At tea time I see Mum and Dad for the first time since Saturday morning. She went to Molly & Jim's last night to meet Hugh. They are full of tales of JPH and go into raptures about his overnight stay at Pine Tops on Saturday night.

Just watch soddin' TV in the evening. Feature film 'One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich' based on the book by Solzenhitsyn - and not a very pleasant day for Ivan either. All it was really was some poor buggers digging holes in sub zero temperatures and eating fish heads and rabbit entrails.

The Prince of Wales was invested with the Order of the Thistle in Edinburgh this morning and I suspect that the Queen and the Queen Mother won't be feeling all that happy because BOTH their detectives, Sir Edward Perkins, KCVO and Chief Supt Sumner, have dropped dead on the Scottish visit over the weekend. A bit too much of a coincidence I fear.

Lynn is enjoying things at the Hare & Hounds, but I'm determined to avoid the place. It's been three weeks now and I haven't missed it, or any of it's inmates. A complete change was what I needed and I am enjoying it thoroughly.

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Saturday May 7, 1977

Eggs and bacon with Mum, Dad, Sue, and Auntie Mabel. I was up early at 8.30 sitting on the couch with the radio until I heard movement in the kitchen.Invariably the first poor soul to be heard messing around in the kitchen is bombarded with orders for tea and other light refreshment. Dad was the victim this morning.

with JPH

To Morrison's in the rain at 12 o'clock or so. Lynn and I took Auntie Mabel round 'Life Style' - the new wing of the supermarket which sells everything from Royal Doulton china to contraceptives.

Back to Silverdale Drive and play with the baby until 3. Maria is thinner. She's down to 9st now. JPH is passed round the assembled multitude until he's insensible, and after we've made him sick we evacuate the area and return to Pinetops for the R.L. Cup final.

Sue, Pete, Mum, Dad and Auntie Mabel go to the Birch Tree at Wilsill for a meal in the evening and Lynn and I are just settling down to have tea when we have a surprise visit indeed. It's Messers Ratcliffe and Mather. ______. We sat talking until Tony and Martyn arrived at 9 o'clock. To the Hare and Hounds at Heaton and the Bod again. Women piled eight feet deep. Sue from WH Smiths and her mate fromthe travel department are in the Bod. Sue is a terrible flirt. _____. Tony especially was on top form. Home at the usual hour. Tony borrowed my razor.

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Friday April 29, 1977

CB, on the phone, wakes me at 10.45. The beautiful thing wants to know if I fancy a session at the Black Bull this afternoon but I tell her about the Official Receiver and how he simply wouldn't like me to go. We compromised and said we'd go see Maria and JPH instead.

Played the record player full belt and took a bath and before I knew it it was lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Mama and Papa. Went down to Maria's with great, gaping holes in my shoes. Like a bloody tramp.

Christine: the beautiful thing

Christine came after ten minutes and we gossipped. Yes, no other expression can be given to what we were doing. Not one of our acquaintances escaped the vile insinuations of three idle, coffee swilling peasants upon this dark, unholy afternoon. I saw a look on CB's divine face as I bounced JPH upon my knee, a look I've never seen her show before. I cannot describe it but it spoke a million words.

Paddy Braithwaite brought me home at 5.30. Christine is incredible. I will always feel exactly the same way about her but I do realise nothing will ever come if it and any deeper relationship would only lead to disaster.

Compelled this evening to go out with my peep-toed shoes and felt guilty about it until Martyn showed me the soles (or lack of them) on his feeble footwear.

Tony and I had a quick one in the Hare and collected Martyn and went to the Bod again. Packed out it was and with a profusion of our colonial friends and relations. Met a couple of ladies - one from Halifax. Peter M, Chris and Steve Hudson came in. They're taking Lynne to Manchester tomorrow because she's flying to Ibiza. Denise is going too and they're making a night of it. Peter says he's not _____________.Why? On the way back from Halifax (after taking Mary home) I told Tony that Peter told me last year that the only reason why he (Tony) associates with me is because I am a friend of Denise and he wants to be near her. We laughed. Tony sees Denise sometimes a couple of times a week. I haven't seen her more than a handful of times since last summer.

-=-

Thursday April 28, 1977

Hangover. Rain all morning. Sunshine all afternoon. Soddin' April. Got a £10 postal order for Mr Barclaycard as a contribution to my holiday. God, I only have £50 and I need another £90 in just two weeks time! I'm ruined. Completely and utterly ruined.

Mama and JPH

John, Maria and JPH came for tea and afterwards they left the little treasure with his grandmama whilst they went off to see George Waite about an MGB GT they're thinking of purchasing.

I've a good mind to go and get married because financially things can only improve. Baby watched 'Top of the Pops' and stayed up until 10 o'clock and only grumbled slightly towards the end when his mother came and collected him. JPH is much more attentive now and he played a few games with his grandpapa - throwing his toys on the floor for the old man to pick up seemed to be the main theme.

Saw the second programme in the 'Royal Heritage' tv series. Prince Philip was showing us one of Henry VIII's weapons in the Tower of London and the Prince of Wales was all at sea on HMS Bonington going into detail about the Spanish Armada and Drake and all that lot. Very interesting.

Rang Tony at 7 but he's in Worksop having tea with John Cameron's bit of stuff - the name of whom escapes me. Rang back at 9 and arranged to meet tomorrow. He told me a sad tale indeed of Carole and Peter Fogarty at Denise's last Sunday. Tears, swear words and throwing of engagement rings. Yet they are still engaged. Spoke to Martyn too and told him about Stockport. He may have some golf planned for May 14 but he said he'd do his utmost to keep the day clear.

Don't remember what time I went to bed but it was quite early because I wanted to avoid the by-election crap on the BBC.
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Sunday April 24, 1977

2nd after Easter. Arose at 12. Edith Blackwell had just been in and Mama had entertained her to breakfast of eggs and bacon of all things. A peculiar thing to do I must say. Mind you, Edith is a peculiar old thing. (Yes, you've guessed correctly - "thing" is the word of the day).

I came down and had a cooked thing and went back up to my thingy and filled in the thing with that thingummy. Thing, Thing and Thing are covered in grease underneath John's thing on the drive. Those bleeding things never work right. I for one wouldn't have the patience to mess around with them. Not rellishing the idea of going into the thing this afternoon. No doubt thing will have left me a note informing me of a proposed catastrophic change in my social life. No Bloody chance, Kathleen!

The Hon Chris Monckton

Sue and I walked round to Ridgeway and took JPH for a ride, walk, push, call it what you will, in his pram. Jimmy was marking essays and breaking wind. He blamed the beer he'd had of late. Maria bundled baby up and Sue and I walked him in the sun up Thorpe Lane and to Pine Tops where he was pandered to and played with by his doting grandmama until his benevolent Uncle Mike returned him home at 4.

To work after dinner. Ursula confirms that Kathleen's plans for Friday nights are as sinister as I thought they were.

Chris Monckton invited me to his Silver Jubilee party at Wetherby Town Hall on June 18. I must go to that one. He has a sister you know and I'm sure a 'Hon' in the family would prove quite refreshing. The Hon Miss Monckton is about my age too.

Home by taxi at 11. The taxi driver talks of the death of the Leeds Rugby League player Sanderson who died on the pitch this afternoon during a skirmish with Salford players.

To my bedroom at 11.30 with Queen Victoria's correspondence with the Empress Frederick and vice versa, 1865-1871.

-=-

Friday April 22, 1977

I bet you didn't know it is St George's Day tomorrow, did you? Well it is. Who will be the new Knights of the Garter? Just wait and see. Eager thrusting peasants that you are.

Day off. Slept until noon and then came down for lunch with Mama and Papa - fish and chips. Spent all afternoon reading 'Majesty'. Yes, doing nothing else whatsoever. Bliss it was too. The only strenuous task was making the occasional cup of coffee.

The Princess, Apperley Lane 

John, Maria and the young prince came for dinner at 5.30 and when Martyn came at 7.30 we went with John and Maria to the Emmott Arms. They left after one drink and Martyn and I walked down to Gayle's residence. Carol, aka 'Emu' is there too. We went to the Princess on Apperley Lane where the barman is eight foot six inches tall, or on stilts. Carol is a bit cool at first but a couple of bitter lemons soon remedy that.

The Woolpack at Yeadon was our next port of call and then the Station on Henshaws Lane. Andy and Linda were in. Emu and I do a spot of tap dancing and somehow embarrass Gayle. Martyn was pissed but insisted on denying it. Emu doesn't believe I'm 22 and says I'm only 18 or 19. She can suit herself. I can be nothing but flattered. A marathon stroll to the Stone Trough concluded our 'crawl'. Maura was there with her entourage. A friend of Emu's says I sound 'Scottish'. Christ Almighty! I've been called some things in my time but this is the very worst. Scottish! Those oil grabbing pagans?  Oh I can't bear it. Harry Lauder and all that. It's just too much.

Back to Emu's place (Gayle is staying there). Very similar to the Dean family of Queensway. They're very broad Yorkshire and proud of it. Emu tells them I live on Hawksworth Lane and an icy pall falls over the house. Watched two revolting films whilst Martyn slept in the armchair. Emu was hysterical and said she was making herself ill with laughing. Should I become a comedian do you think?

Martyn and I came home by taxi to Pine Tops. He slept on the settee.Sue and Peter were entertaining Janet Simon and boyfriend.
-=-

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.

-=-

Saturday April 9, 1977

One of those horrible mornings when one wishes one had remained in ones bedroom. A nice sunny day true enough, but the chaos and pandemonium and general escalation of activity due to our forthcoming departure north for Easter took away the elation and joy.

Princess Louise, Duchess of Fife

I sat reading the morning papers amid the panic of suitcase packing. Princess Anne is the main topic in the press. Will the Queen's grandchild be Master or Miss Phillips, or will the Cap'n be forced into accepting an earldom, marquesate, or even a dukedom? I've read in the papers that no precedent exists for a monarch to bestow a title upon a grandchild by-passing the parents. But in fact the granddaughters of King Edward VII (daughters of the Princess Royal, Duchess of Fife) were created Princesses in 1905. Here's the citation coming up: "King Edward VII was pleased to declare on Nov 9, 1905 that his daughter, HRH The Princess Louise, Duchess of Fife should bear the title Princess Royal, and that her daughters should bear the title of Princess with the qualification of Highness, and should rank immediately after all members of the Royal Family bearing the style of Royal Highness." Why not make Anne Princess Royal and  create all her children Princes or Princesses as indeed the offspring of Charles, Andrew and Edward will be? This would solve all the petty problems of peerages, honourables and such like.

To Cumbria at 1.30 or so stopping at the Anchor Inn at Skipton (sic) on the way. Mum, Dad, Lynn, Dave, Sue, Peter, John, Maria, JPH,  and me. Ten of us. Get to Uncle H's before 5. He's pissed out of his mind and cooking a diabolical meal for us. We all eat grinning all over our faces. The Yorkshire puddings were like nothing on earth. All go to the Kell Head pub which is in the middle on nowhere. (2 miles from Egremont and St Bees), where all except Mum, Dad and Harry are to pass the next couple of nights. By 7.30 we're all in the bar. The baby hates the place and he cried and screamed until midnight. I don't think the little fellow appreciated the juke-box the sound of which vibrated on his bedroom floor. We all sat there until about 2am. The 'landlady' - call her what you will - is affectionately known as 'Big Jean' Sherwen. Never a more repulsive woman could you wish to lay eyes on. A horror indeed. All pissed up and singing. Dave, Pete and I in a caravan in the garden. Dave wears 'French cut' pyjamas - what he does in the privacy of his bedroom is no concern of mine, but I cannot help marveling at them. Die laughing in fact.

-==-

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.












-==-

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.

Sunday February 27, 1977

1st in Lent. Awakened at 10.30 by Maria and baby. Give him a nurse sat naked in bed sheets. Me naked  in bed sheets that is. JPH was fully clothed. I think he was expecting me to breast feed him. Babies are a wonder. I wouldn't mind having a few myself shortly - ones begotten on the wrong side of the sheet, or is it blanket? You know what I'm getting at anyway.

Out at 8 o'clock to the Hare with Tony and Martyn. We fall upon Judith and Kathryn. I ask if she's made any attempt to get March 12 off work to accompany me to David B's 21st. She seems to favour the idea. The three of us go to the Craven Heifer again. It's ridiculously packed - like a London air raid shelter in 1942. All very friendly. Meet three schoolgirls who work as Saturday girls at Smith's in Ilkley. One is a bespectacled Arien and is nice and witty. We are joined by an uncouth cad who has nine endorsements for various motoring offences. The women regard him as something of a sex object. We all go back to the flat for a quick coffee. The girls refer to the absent Barry as 'Mr Munnings' which is thoroughly hilarious. Home by 11.30. To bed.


-=-

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.


-==-

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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