Tuesday March 14, 1978

The March winds did blow. In fact, the blowing on Hawksworth Lane was gale force. The meteorological freaks will be having a field day.

David Greenwood, Lynn's boss, is celebrating his birthday tomorrow ___________________.

Mum: slewed

I came home from work to be confronted by dear Mama with the reddest face I have ever laid eyes on. She puts it down to the combination of the sun ray lamp and alcohol. She and Daddy quarrelled this afternoon and she decided to drown her sorrows. I promised not to tell a living soul that my mother has consumed a whole bottle of sherry whilst reclining 'neath the glowing lamp. She is thoroughly ashamed of herself. I say it's all well and good. If my dear old Ma can't get slewed once in a while, who can? By 6:30 Dad was still absent and she went round to Edith's.

Alexandre Dumas is a real dead beat. 'The Man in the Iron Mask' is boring me to death. After a couple of minutes with it I'm either asleep or distracted by something else.

Meanwhile: back to the excitement. At 9 o'clock I went to lay siege to the Blackwell residence and was roped into an old photo appreciation session. We had hysterics over some ancient images of Edith's granny, and much wine was partaken of in the process.  At midnight Mama returned homeward and I sat with Ernest (Edith was in bed) listening to his wartime reminiscences. It was almost 3:30am when I arrived home.

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Sunday March 12, 1978

5th in Lent

A lazy, quiet day. Had a pleasant lunch with Mum, Dad and Lynn, and afterwards I put some polish on my dusty, beer stained boots, and prepared my wardrobe for my weekend jaunt to the fair capital of these islands of ours.

The only interesting occurrence was the screening on BBC2 of 'Hamlet' with Nicol Williamson playing the Prince of Denmark in the 1969 film of Mr Shakespeare's classic.

Dad and I are the only cultural residents of 58, Hawksworth Lane and no sooner had the first scene opened that Mama and my fair sisters scrambled from the room as though an incendiary device had just been deposited at the fireside. This is a sad aspect of 1978 social life.

To bed at 12:30 with Alexandre Dumas close at hand. I'm just starting chapter 5 now. It's entitled "Two Friends" and it depicts a scene featuring Anne, Queen-Mother of France and the clapped out old duchesse who first appeared on page 1, the Duchesse de Chevreuse.

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Saturday March 11, 1978

Sun rises 6:25 Sun sets 17:58

Bright sunny day. Lynn woke me at 10:30 to inform me that I was escorting her, on foot, to Yeadon to do some shopping. This was no ideal awakening my any means. I was out of bed by 11 and within minutes I was pouring a glass of beer for Ernest and glass of wine for Edith.

Yeadon.

Shortly afterwards to Yeadon with Lynn. The day was warm and we laughed and chatted on the way down the open road. We were home for 3pm weighed down with shopping. Lynn's feet were blistered and my hands were bright pink. And, dear friends, that was my day. Yes, it does seem pathetically short and mundane, but I cannot be expected to carry out earth shattering, spectacular feats of brilliance all the time. Perhaps you can look in tomorrow?  Oh, go on then I'll just say a bit more.

Mama and Papa went out for dinner and Sue, Pete, Chippy and girlfriend went off to Appletreewick at tea time supposedly 'camping'. Not much of the countryside will be seen if I know anything of my sweet sister. The pleasures of the flesh are nearer the top of her priorities than river side walks, but at 18 and with her great beauty, I cannot blame her.

Lynn, Dave and I dined by candlelight together (do you think that perhaps my presence was not welcome?) and afterwards we sat looking at the television. Boring.

To bed with 'The Man in the Iron Mask' but fell asleep after two pages. In fact, a clapped out old French duchess hadn't even finished talking to a bloke named after that nice brand of aftershave lotion ... er, Ah yes, Aramis.

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