Sunday November 12, 1978

25th Sunday after Trinity

7th Sunday before Christmas

Remembrance Sunday

Slept until 10:30 and then devoured breakfast. Switched on the telly to watch the Queen at the Cenotaph at 11am. Pete Sate arrived at the start of the two minutes silence so in fact we had two minutes of noise and chaos to commemorate the dead of two world wars.

Derek had me washing his Lotus (which I did willingly). I wouldn't wash any old car you know.

At 12 Jacq, Pete S and I wandered down to the real Northwood hostelry where we had a few before the 2pm curfew. Pete is 21 and recounting his adventures he makes my life sound positively 'monk~like'.

Sunday lunch was heavily punctuated with political argument. At one point Derek put it to me that I might be a socialist. I told him I am more Tory than the most far~right Tory which puzzled him. He couldn't grasp my argument. He is a stubborn man and in discussion he won't be moved by anything anybody else has to say. He and Pete squabbled about work too. _______.

Pete drove us to Victoria at 5 and we only just made it for six o'clock. The bus carrying Christine and Mrs B was pulling out of the station. I did my spectacular 'dead man lying on the floor' routine in front of the offending and already departing vehicle, to halt it's progress. But all was in vain. A bus carrying only 15 or 20 people eventually left and Jacq and I grabbed the whole of the back seat for ourselves. Uncomfortable and cold journey. Saw the hideous and ridiculous 'green beam' lighting up Oxford Street as part of the Christmas lights.

Home to a cold, wintry Leeds at just before 11. Jim and Margaret Nason are at home. Bed at 1:30.

-=-

Wednesday February 22, 1978

The traffic on New Road Side woke me at 6:30. Hungover. Predictable really. Christine's Mum went off to work hailing her goodbyes at me as I lay ~ almost in state ~ on her settee. She looked older. I haven't seen her since Mr Braithwaite died in May.

CB and Honey.

Christine was up and looked just as she did last night. I think she has an 'A' Level in 'How to Drink to Excess Without Suffering the Repercussions'. She buggered about under her car bonnet whilst I was entertained by Honey, the gorgeous doggy. It's a Golden Retriever with a bit of Alsatian thrown in. We laughed when CB told me she wanted to call it 'Spot'.

A cup of coffee and mug of orange juice gave me a boost and at 8 I bid my fond farewells and cleared off on a green bus to the YP. Having a bus stop at the garden gate must be bliss. Or is it?

CB gave me a letter that she intended posting today and I read it on my short, cold journey into Leeds. I roared with laughter and tears trickled down my icy cheeks at her wondrous composition. The girl is the greatest!

At the office Sarah and Eileen pulled my leg all morning about my stay at Horsforth. Mind you, to them I suppose it appeared more than it actually was. I left at 2:00 because I was in no fit state to do any work. My eye balls were hanging over the sides of my sockets.


Found my way home in the mist and fog and spent the remainder of the day in confinement at the fireside. For each second that I managed to keep my eyelids from caving in I thought I deserved a Duke of Edinburgh Award, preferably of the gold variety. Sadly, however, my courage went unrecognised. It's typical of the age in which we live that good British 'graft' is taken for granted.

-=-

Friday February 21, 1975

Cold day at work. The conversion men having moved in have stopped all the heating in the place, and the sound of many knees knocking together simultaneously with the unnerving chatter of teeth and dentures has created a worrying atmosphere. However, the cold has given one and all the impetus to run round the office, and we completed all the filing in record time.

To the Hare & Hounds with Naomi, Christine and Chris, not forgetting John, that is after a chase round Horsforth and a quick one in the Fleece. Went to Christine's to pick her up and sat with her Mum & Dad for 10 minutes. A nice couple, with the Braithwaite humour stamped all over them.

The gang move on to Wikis as usual, and I pass a pleasant but uneventful evening. Marian is nowehere to be seen, and Gillian is flaunting one of her spare gentleman friends. Home at 2.30 in the usual style and after taking the two C's back to Horsforth. Sleep soundly.

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