Saturday September 16, 1978

Full Moon 20:01 Sun rises 06:36 Sun sets 19:14

Jacq came at 8 with a parcel for me from Trixie consisting of ties, more paints, my forgotten Hitler volume, paint brushes and Japanese palet knives from Pete Holroyd's collection. The bundle must have rushed her a couple of quid in the post.

I'm in low spirits with a feeling of impending disaster hanging over me. One of Jacq's shoes fell apart at the bottom of the lane and I ran all the way home for a pair from Sue's collection. Knackered, sweaty and broncil by 9:30.

We made our way to the Crown at Yeadon in the drizzle and shit and propped up the bar there until 11. Chippy, Gus, Johnny and others came in. I hailed 'Hullo' to Chippy and he told me to 'fuck off' which I can only put down to the episode of the buggered spectacles. At 11 we staggered to Guiseley. Jacq was wearing all my clothes because she felt cold.

We bumped into Jim and Margaret and they took us back to 58, Fieldhead Road for a few beers. Margaret attempted to persuade the budgie to do his Churchill impersonation but Joey (as he's affectionately know) refused to fight them on the beaches, and said nowt.

Back at Pine Tops for 12:30. Jacq and I sat until 4:30.

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Sunday April 9, 1978

2nd after Easter.

More people (came) to view the house. Susan and I giggled like schoolgirls at the people tramping round poor Pine Tops as though it was Chatsworth.

Ernest called in to sup ale with us, and Jacq arrived at 12 noon from the YWCA, wearing a black woolly jumper inherited from her late step-father, Peter Holroyd, Esq.

We all took alcohol together and watched an ancient film on the BBC featuring Marilyn Monroe: "The Seven Year Itch". Lynn and David returned from their adventures at Lawn Road and we dined (inc Jacq) on roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. Poor Jacq ate well. I fear she starves herself at that place (YWCA). Susan and Peter were unavoidably detained at Granny (Florence) Nason's 80th birthday party.



Jacq and I really get on like a house on fire. Read a bit of Toland's 'Adolf Hitler'.

Saw Hylda Baker in a ghastly film at 8 and at 10 I escorted Jacq to her bus (in soaking, rainy conditions). Dear Mama packed her off with a pork chop to eat in the near future (not raw on the bus home I hope).

Jacq and I howled with laughter when Mum's old, see-through, yellow plastic umbrella collapsed.

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