Sunday December 4, 1977

_.2nd in Advent. Slightly better. In fact I'm a lot better. Just watched TV the whole day and ate a sizeable Sunday dinner at about 6:00pm.

Watched 'Royal Heritage'. It was about Victoria and Albert. 'The Count of Monte Cristo' is finished! Over a thousand miserable pages in about as many days. It's nothing to be proud of at all, Michael Rhodes. Two months to read a book. I really should be horse whipped. I bet Mr Dumas wrote the bloody thing in half that time.

Mum and Dad went out for a drink tonight and I watched a play called 'Waste' on the BBC. Quite good.

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Tuesday December 14, 1976

King George VI is celebrating quietly somewhere today - his 81st birthday. Prince Albert died 115 years ago, and Coun Norman Anthony Gadsby was born this day in 1935 ...

Write letters tonight to Helen Malin in Gloucester and send cards to Glenn and Dave G telling them of Peter's change of heart. I knew all along that Mr Mather wouldn't let the summer of next year go by without seeing Ibiza and all those women.

Tony rings and we arrange to go to the Hare with Stuart at 8.15. I then contact Martyn and he says he's going with his girlfriend Carla to a new wine bar in Ilkley so I don't think we'll see him tonight. Later: Tony comes at 8.15 and we go to a Christmas-decorated Hare & Hounds and meet Stuart Walker, Esq, and Susan and Peter. After a couple of drinks we join Martyn and his lady at Ilkley and we polish off two bottles of wine before going on to the Rose & Crown. Quite a liquid evening. All back to W.H. Smith's for a coffee and Tony discovers he has a flat tyre which takes us through until 12.15am. Home in a fog and we discuss Thursday night. Hit the sack at 1.05am.

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Wednesday May 28, 1975

A right Royal Day today. I arrived at work to find a photo of the bearded Prince of Wales on my desk, and I was startled to see how much he looked like a young King George V. Without further ado I delved into the picture archives and emerged with a photo of George V, suitably bearded of course. The resemblance is remarkable and I realised immediately that this would be a good idea for a story. 'People' the YP diary is an obvious place for such an article. However, my labours are in vain, and every time I attempt to pass on my ideas they are shouted down and ridiculed. By lunchtime I have given up hope. However, at 3 I was approached by Chris Dawson with a request for pictures of ALL the bearded monarchs of England. 'Hell', I thought, 'how many Kings of England have been bearded. Let's solve this by a process of elimination.' George VI and Edward VIII were clean shaven, and so was Queen Victoria. King Edward VII and King George V were proud beard owners, and none of the first four Georges had one. Queen Anne didn't have one, and William and Mary couldn't grow a beard between them. So, in one way or another the throne of Great Britain was beardless between 1649 and 1901. Henry VIII and poor Charles I were reasonably endowed with facial hair, but that's about all.

But alas, and alack, no sooner had I suppled Chris Dawson with images of bearded kings that I receive news of horrific consequence. Carol is shouting something like: 'He's shaved it off! He's shaved it off!' Indeed, the prince has succumbed to the razor. Carol was laughing hysterically. 'He's got a moustache now'.

The thought of searching for moustachioed monarchs didn't please me all that much. Poor Dawson returned to his desk, head bowed at the thought of losing a good story.

On my arriving home I look in at the 6 o'clock news and see the Prince of Wales endowed with a moustache dressed in robes of Grand Master of the Order of the Bath, and looking remarkably like the Prince Consort. However, I have made up my mind never to notice resemblances amongst members of the Royal Family again.

Home at 5.30 for tea and prepare to see Leeds United in the European Cup. Dave Baker joins us and we indulge in a few glasses of lager, ale, &c.

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Saturday December 14, 1974

Death of Prince Albert, 1861. George VI born 1895. Uncle Tony's birthday. 39th I think. Mum, Dad, Auntie Eleanor and Uncle Jack plus Uncle Harry trot off to Bradford in order to pursue birthday celebrations with the Gadsby clan. They come home in the early hours minus Uncle H - who disappeared in Bradford. Naturally, they are all perturbed about the whereabouts of his person, but one thing's for sure, we have his car parked on our drive awaiting the return of its master.

I was at the YP until 12 when I met John in WH Smiths. We spend three hours on a so-called shopping for Christmas presents spree but after this substantial time lapse I haven't laid hands on one present, and have instead a new pair of shoes and a woolly cardigan. Home on a crowded 55 bus. We sit around waiting for food - in my case, the first meal of the day! Eat fish and chips twice.

To the Hare and Hounds in Kevin Teale's van after arranging to meet Dave Lawson who rang at 8.30. After depositing me at the Hare John and pals go off to Ilkley again and say that they'll see me at the Cow & Calf later. I sit quite alone with a lager until 8.30. Ring Denny who says Adrian didn't turn up tonight after they'd arranged a reconciliation.

Dave and Sandra come in at 8.30, followed by Andy and the Smiths. We all go to the Black Horse - a detestible joint but they all like it - and move on to the Cow & Calf without Dave who didn't fancy it. Wish I hadn't gone. Rubbish it really was. Carol Smith and one of the Denby boys started having a relationship. Peter brings me home after 1am and I have a laugh with Lynn and Dave before going to bed.

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Sunday February 10, 1974

Queen Victoria married Albert, 1840. Up with the larks at 12 noon. Poor Dad went to work at 10am where he will remain until 10pm. The current miners crisis renders it impossible for the police force to have days off or any free time at all. But still, working a 12 hour shift will bring in a bit more money.

Have bacon for breakfast, then listen to the radio as usual. Lynn and Sue are now successfully recovered from the joint attack which they both underwent earlier this week. This evening Sue is bringing her latest, Peter Nason, around for a record playing session. My sisters have had more boyfriends than even a computer could record. However, I see no reason why they shouldn't enjoy themselves in any way they see fit. Nothing eventful or anything, except for 'Monty Python' that is, which had me in stitches. Ironically, now that the tv is back to normal hours, Mum and Dad spent all evening stood before the new washing machine, watching the clothes spinning round! It's a funny world isn't it?


'Tiger Feet' by Mud.

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Saturday June 16, 1973

Read Duff's 'Albert and Victoria'. Much better than Woodham-Smith's biography. It raises doubts about Prince Albert's parentage. He suggests Albert's real father was Leopold I, King of the Belgians or some court chamberlain of Jewish extraction in Coburg. Fancy, Queen Victoria marrying a bastard! I have taken a real liking to the young Queen Victoria - not lacking in physical attractiveness either.

Get up at 10.30. Go with John to Leeds on the 11 o'clock train. Arrive 11.15. I buy some shirts whilst John spends £25 on a suit for Brian and Valerie's wedding - including a pair of fantastic shoes -adding about four inches to his height. Arrive Guiseley at 2.40. I bought a pair of polaroid sunglasses for £3.25.

Lynn no longer has a job. She and Al resigned this morning after a squabble over working hours.

Have a cup of tea and watch 'Dr Who'. Go to CW at 7. Sue and Toffer are excited about the holidays. Imagine, no work next weekend! No CW until June 29. Pauline is in good spirits and slightly sun-burned. Toffer and I had a 'Hairy Leg' contest. I won! Come home at 1.40. Sit an hour with 2 boiled eggs. Read a bit of Albert and Victoria. Bed 2.45.

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Saturday April 28, 1973

Get up at 10.0 and go to Leeds with John. I buy another jumper. He gets a "lumber jack" type jacket - £7.

Continue with Queen Victoria by Cecil Woodham-Smith. Victoria and Albert was one of the greatest romances of all time, others include (to quote Frankie Howerd) "Anthony and Cleopatra, Romeo and Juliet, Nelson and Lady Hamilton, Robin Day and himself...." etc.

Oh what a darling Victoria was! The more I read about her (and I've certainly seen a lot) the more I believe she was the greatest person flung-out by the 19th century. Prince Albert was responsible for lifting the monarchy above politics. William IV was a rabid Tory and Queen Victoria was an equally keen Whig - but Albert soon put a stop to her involvement in politics. The raised the Royal Family far above the vulgarities and cunningness of politics. This was his greatest achievement. Since then no sovereign has ever identified himself/herself with one particular political body. Therefore, why do certain people shun the Queen and Royal Family simply because they are socialist? Such persons are purely naive. The Queen represents EVERYONE, and not simply the well-to-do and Conservative classes.

Go to work at 7 o'clock. Sue is still in pain following her fall from Polo yesterday morning. Had a laugh with Pauline - we devoured soup followed by ice cream with butterscotch sauce and several beers. Toffer played his Woodstock LP. A HATEFUL recording indeed. Pauline agreed that it was completely lacking in taste. She sat reading until 1.30. Came home at 1.50. Lynn was alone. Her boyfriend, Chris, had been here until 11.30. Mum and Dad were at Auntie Hilda's with John and Susan. The Gadsbys go to the Continent tomorrow. At 2am they arrive home. Have coffee then go to bed.

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Saturday February 10, 1973

Philip Knowles is 17 today. On this day in 1840 Queen Victoria married Prince Albert. Got up at 11.30 the cold winter sun was shining brilliantly. After a small but adequate breakfast I drifted into the lounge and played all the records until nearly 2 o'clock. Mum, who had been at the hairdressers, brought fish and chips home for luncheon. After lunch Mum suggested that Sue, Dad, me and herself should drive down into Otley to do a bit of shopping. However, I put forward the idea that Dad and I could drop Mum and Sue in Otley, and I could then go off for a driving lesson with Dad. All agreed to these suggestions and we set off at 3. I had a most enjoyable lesson and made only one major fault - whilst going up a steep hill on the Harewood road I quite forgot to change gear and stalled the car. However, after an hour in the beautiful countryside Dad could happily say that I had improved greatly on last time - which was sometime in November. I would love to take my test before my 18th birthday. After all, not everyone can say they have passed while they were only 17 years-old.
Home at 5. Had a good tea and watched TV until 6.45. Walked down to the Chuck Wagon at 6.50. Pauline arrived at 7.15. Sue and Toffer were in very good moods all evening, which was the most quiet Saturday I have experienced. Alas, at 10 o'clock the place began to fill up, and bloody drunks - greedy drunks at that - were pouring in at 11.30pm. Pauline was feeling unwell at 11.30 - reduced to tears with a cronic stomach ache. However, by 1am she had recovered quite satisfactorily. At 1am we sat down at the usual table. I had my usual beers (3 in all) and Sue played Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture on the stereo. At the same time Toffer was chopping T_bone steaks to the rhythm of the music. Sue also played the Warsaw Concerto, Dream of Olwen, Cornish Raphsody, and Murder on 10th Avenue. I received my usual £3.50. and retired home in the back seat of Toffer's comfortable car. Mum and Dad arrived home simultaneously from Mum's works orgy at the Troutbeck Hotel, Ilkley. They had enjoyed it very much. They went straight up to bed leaving me alone in the kitchen to make an adequate supper for myself.
I settled on cheese and biscuits and a cup of tea. I sat in the lounge eating my long-awaited supper and reading my Queen Victoria book. I rang Bradford Library this morning in order to renew my books. They were unable to trace my tickets, and told me to bring the books in next week cancelling the fine.

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