Friday August 10, 1979

_. Gruesome headache. Did very little all morning and sat at my desk feeling sick and shattered. Kathleen is away, at Auntie Mary's funeral, which is convenient. I sat at my desk, with my feet up blatantly reading volume 2 of Churchill's 'History of the English Speaking Peoples' and praising God that Mrs Mary McHale had chosen this day to be reunited with her dear husband Tom. R.I.P.

To lunch with Sarah and Eileen to Da Mario's for pizzas. Shared a table with a couple of wasteful creatures who poked and prodded at their food with a total lack of interest. I felt nauseous. Leaving the restaurant we bumped into Jacq at a bus stop. ___________.

This evening Ally and I decided upon a pub crawl. We did the Hare and Hounds [I spoke to Judith], the White Cross, the Shoulder of Mutton, the Commercial [Annie and Ron Lindley have gone taking all with them]. Home at 10:50 to watch the Marx Brothers in 'Duck Soup' - excellent. Bed at 1:20.

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Sunday August 21, 1977

11th after Trinity. Woke at 11 feeling quite dead. Mr Brotherwood Senior, grinning broadly, deposited a cup of tea by my bed and made a quick exit from the room. Tony was outside beating his sheepskin car rugs with a large wire brush. He laughed on seeing me and joked about the pinkness of my eyes and deathly hue of my palid cheeks. We then attacked slices of hot buttered toast with Mrs B's constant chatter as a back drop.

Groucho.

See in the Sunday Times that the genius Groucho Marx is dead. Let us hope that, as in the case of the late, lamented Mr Presley, the BBC will now show all the Marx Brothers films because 'Duck Soup', 'A Day at the Races' and 'A Night at the Opera' are masterpieces of comedy. The Elvis films are starting on the BBC next Wednesday.

We went back to the White Horse taking Mrs Brotherwood with us. Tony and I drank tomato juice. Mrs B was on the sherry.

Sunday lunch was at 2 followed by a slight kip and then we hit the road for the north at 4pm. Home via Goodwood and picturesque Sussex and various other bits of that area of which I know nothing. We ate our packed picnic of cheese and spring onion sandwiches in the car, and I had mine as we passed Kew Gardens at about 6.30.  We were at Bradford and in the Bod at 9.30. At times Tony  had been doing over 100mph on the M1. Wendy and Anne were in the Bod and we planned to go to Annabella's with them on Wednesday and to the WH Smith party, I think. I'm surprised we weren't thrown out for all the attention we were drawing to ourselves. Three pints of Guinness, no money an one hour later I returned home to find everyone at Edith and Ernest's and in a state of intoxication. Even Lynn and David back from Italy - not as brown as they should be.

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Friday February 6, 1976

Twenty-four years ago today Princess Elizabeth learned in Kenya that she had become Queen of the United Kingdom & Head of the Commonwealth, &c.

A night at home in what seems like the first time in many, many years. John took me down to the bus stop at 8.30 and I waited for a few minutes for Carole, who comes on the bus. We walked up the lane together and sat watching television with Mum, Dad, Sue and Peter. Some bright spark suggested going to the off-license for a few bottles and for fish and chips. The venture cost me and Mum £3 between us, and I decide it would have been cheaper to go get drunk in the Hare & Hounds.

I attempted to review my financial situation tonight and decide that £10 a week hidden away will give me my annual holiday without much trouble.

I rang Denny about John and Chris cancelling, and she says they have definately lost their deposits but I insist that Peter and I still want to go. Admittedly, the wedding and other events will make this year quite expensive, but I don't see why I should have to call off my holiday.

Lynn and Dave get back from the Hare & Hounds at about 10.30 and we all watch a Marx Brothers film which is hilarious. Groucho is still fantastically funny, whereas the rest of the gang are dated and quite humourless now.

Carole is taken home by Dave at 1am or 2am.

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Monday August 25, 1975

Holiday in England, N. Ireland & Wales. Back to the office. Ugh. The fact that it's Bank Holiday Monday makes it worse because the thought of everyone staying in bed until noon whilst I struggled across a deserted town was far from pleasant.

See Sarah and Kathleen and they both agree that I'm a tremendous colour. Work until 1pm and then Kathleen lets me go. I get the 55 bus with Sarah and arrive home at about 2 o'clock. The weather is still quite warm, but I don't sit out in it when I arrive home. I've had enough after 2 weeks in Majorca and 2 full weeks lying around in the sun.

Sue is watching a rotten film starring W.C. Fields, which is cronic. I devour beans on toast, and then see a Marx Brothers film 'Duck Soup' which is hilarious in parts.
Groucho should be knighted in the New Year's Honours list. If Charlie Chaplin can be (knighted), I fail to see why Groucho can't.

No much in the news whilst I've been away. Some nutter saw fit to dig up the Headingley cricket pitch in the middle of the Test Match, which seems a bit of a silly thing to do, and the historic event to beat all other historic events is the re-union of Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. They're going to re-marry, and at the moment they're carrying on like a pair of 16 year-olds with the first pangs of love!

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