Sunday March 5, 1978

 4th Sunday in Lent
Mid Lent
Mothering Sunday

Got a bus from the Bod pub to the bus station and then hitched a lift down Canal Road and was picked up by a Pakistani gentleman. Never again will I criticise our marvellous immigrant population. Bless them all. At the Shoulder of Mutton I got the first bus of the morning and sat with a couple of gin swilling prostitutes, who had obviously had a night similar to mine.

On Hawksworth Lane dearest Edith thought I was up and out for an early morning walk and was stunned to hear I was on my way home. She gave me hot tea and befriended me until they awoke at home.

Had breakfast with Mum at 9:30. Gave her a plant for Mothering Sunday. They all thought I was insane.

Alison, John, Lynn, Sue, Pete & Dave.

At eleven we all ~ Lynn, Dave, Sue, Pete, Alison and John P and me ~ went to the seaside taking in Whitby, Robin Hood's Bay and Scarborough. I was tired but managed to stay active.  I really like Alison and John. Coming home we called at the Royal at Boston Spa for a few drinks. I spent the day snapping away with the camera. The sun shone brightly.

at Scarborough.

-=-

Saturday August 27, 1977

Stuart (Newton) and Christine (White) were married at St John's (church), Yeadon, at 2pm. We only just made it to the ceremony after a somewhat farcical chase across Aireborough, and our arrival at the church coincided with that of the bridesmaids and other important personages.

Stuart & Christine

Sue, Pete N and I sat with Messers Ratcliffe and Mather, and Lynn and Dave B sat warbling behind. Christine looked very nice, Stuart looked petrified. A horrible sight to see a man so frightened. We needed a 'Scarlet Pimpernel' figure to perhaps come and rescue him.

The reception at the Colours Restaurant at Horsforth went off brilliantly. Home at about 7pm nicely stewed. David G arrived at Pine Tops just as we got in. His Ibiza pictures are incredible. Martyn joined us at 9 and we went back to Horsforth to continue the festivities, the happy couple having left for Scarborough some hours previously. More drink in larger quantities. Mrs White is a darling and I gave her a large kiss on leaving. Chatted with Linda and Andy. Very congenial.

Took Martyn to Ilkley and then entertained Dave G to 'home brew' until some ridiculous hour of the morning. Why do we do such things? Agreed, it's my Plantagenet nature peeping through from the depths of the Middle Ages. Edward III liked the occasional beer, you know.

-=-

Saturday November 6, 1976

More tales of the lives of everyday country folk at Thornton-le-Dale. Up at lunchtime and get under the feet of Mr Mather and Pete as they demolish a wardrobe, or something. They push me into the lounge where I watch Tallulah Bankhead in an episode of 'Batman'. Hasn't she been dead for eight or nine years?

Eventually Lynne gets up and when she is ready the two of us go to Pickering [or perhaps Malton?] for a couple of hours. Pouring rain. Have a pint in a grotty pub and purchase a £2 box of chocolates for Sarah's birthday. Back home for tea. We prepare to go out, and Peter tags along and the three of us go to the nice pub with the juke box. [Am I not a vague old sod?] Back home with Peter at 11pm, and after dumping him Lynne and I go to the Bali Hai at Scarborough. A great time. Good music. Lynne always seems surprised when I get up and dance. Why is this? Am I considered to be some sort of cretin? Who has been spreading malicious rumours about my capabilities?

-==-

Friday November 5, 1976

A perishing cold day. Drive with Lynne to Thornton-le-Dale and at 8 o'clock we go with Mr & Mrs Mather and Karl to Scarborough in the hope of getting a glimpse of some beach bonfires & fireworks, &c. No such bloody luck. We are too late. After Donald, Vera, Lynne, Karl [for it is they] ate ice-cream whilst I supped a can of shandy we all departed to a remote mountain not far from Scarborough where Karl was let loose with his fireworks. Unimpressive things they are too. All Lynne can do is moan about the [cold] weather. I laugh at the sight of her stood wrapped in a one of the tartan car blankets. Mrs M is frozen solid too. After 10 minutes we depart for Thornton-le-D once more. Lynne complains about being tired again. My God she is only 19! Mrs M insists that Lynne is always tired because of the constant gas leak in her office. We laugh.

-==-

Saturday October 23, 1976

Don't get out of bed until 1.30pm on Saturday afternoon. Mr & Mrs Mather are decorating the lounge. After lunch Lynne and I go shopping to Scarbrough. I get a pair of black trousers and a red shirt with 'San Francisco Giants' inscribed all over it. A cold, dismal day, but we have a good laugh. Back in Thornton Dale by 6 o'clock and call at one of the pubs in the village for a pre-dinner drink.

At 9 o'clock we set off to Brummel's in York. Arrive after 11 and remain until 2am. Had a great time. The music really is 'our sort'. The place was packed to begin with but we soon found a vacant space. Lynne and I merged our resources and managed to come away with a few bob for the coming week. I only consumed three or four pints of lager all night and on our drive back to Thornton-le-Dale [nearly 30 miles]we were serenaded by fantastic music on Radio Luxembourg. Made cheese on toast at 3am and woke Mrs Mather in the process but didn't suffer anything quite as traumatic as what would have befallen us if Mama had been in Mrs Mather's shoes, or perhaps bed. Bed at 3.30.

-==-

Sunday October 10, 1976

A sunny day. Not umberella weather at all. After breakast, at midday, Lynne and I go to Scarborough with Rebel [the dog], leaving Peter at home messing about with a window frame and Mr Rat glancing at the Radio Times. Spend a couple of hours eating crab and candy [floss] and drinking coca cola and walking the dog. He's a crafty old devil and only limps when he can put it to his advantage. The sun is out in force. Scarborough is much better at this time of the year. No dirty peasants playing ball games all over the beach, &c.

Home to Ty-Onnen at 4.30 to tea and cakes with Mr & Mrs M, Peter, Karl and Mr Rat. Watch TV until the evening meal at 6.30. The gentlemen depart for Horsforth at 7 o'clock and after 'Fawlty Towers' Lynne and I go back to the Royal Oak [I think] in Pickering. Feel bloated all night and take great discomfort in the consumption of cold lager. Donald M and his good lady wife are so matey.


-==-

Saturday September 4, 1976

To Castle Howard with Lynne, Peter & Jane. We set off in Pete's van but he broke down near Kirkbymoorside, and struggled home and set off again this time in Donald M's car. L and I have a great giggle. However, I've seen nicer stately homes. Too many marble busts and long, empty corridors. The grounds are great though, and the two of us walked round eating liquorice & making fools of ourselves. Peter and Jane seem besotted. Lynne cannot get over it. She's never seen Peter so taken before. What he sees in the girl God only knows. She's 17 but has the brain of a backward 6 year-old, is flat-chested [not even nicely flat chested as some ladies are], and very pale. Ugh. Come on, Peter Baby! Pull yourself together!

Out tonight to Tiffany's at Scarborough until 2am. A good, enjoyable evening. In fact the weekend's been far better than I thought it would be. My only worry was that it might coincide with John & Maria's 'big' event, but so far so good.

-==-

Tuesday May 4, 1976

I got up at 9.30 and Chris and Christine came at 10.30 and persuaded me to go to Scarborough after all. I am miserable and upset about last night, but C & C show me no sympathy and I am soon quite cheerful.

Scarborough was quite pleasant and we stayed until about 5pm. Scampi and chips at a pub at Stamford Bridge and home in pouring rain at about 10.30.

A terrible thing has happened. Carole made an attempt on her life this morning and was saved from death by her brother when he came home for lunch. She slashed her wrists.

Mum told me the news when I came in. Mrs P phoned to say C has had 18 stitches in one wrist and 15 in the other. Peter definately saved her life. I didn't speak to Mrs P but she told Mum that Carole would like to see me tomorrow afternoon. I will never go. How can I meet somebody who is quite prepared to have her death on my conscience for the rest of my life? The suicidal person will never get sympathy from me. I am shattered all the same. Mum is in a terrible state. Traumatic day.

-==-

Saturday December 27, 1975

A wonderful day. Dave B wakes me at 11.10 with yells of horror. I think he had to dance about on my bed before any signs of life were evident. Mum makes us toast for breakfast and Lynn devours most of it, along with gallons of tea.

I worry about Carole, who may well be still laid indisposed with her 'ailment', and I fear she may be unable to make the arduous venture to the coast.

At 12 o'clock Lynn, Dave and myself arrive at Oakridge Hall where we are entertained by the sight of Lady Phillips hanging out her washing. Carole is boisterous and looking fit and refuses any bodily aid whilst alighting into Mr Baker's automobile.

After a pleasant journey lasting approximately two hours we arrive in Scarborough. A breezy, fresh and highly humorous couple of hours follow, the highlights of which I will attempt to outline: a passionate photographic session on the beach was followed by a disgusting scene in a 'candy floss store' where we watched, in horror, as a filthy salesman attempted to clean out his candy floss machine with an old cloth he'd just used on the toilets. The man had filthy layered paws. A blood curdling incident followed in a hotel where Carole shared a teapot of tea with me and proceeded to fall, head long, down a flight of stairs whilst visiting the ladies loo. After this we moved on to Whitby. To say it is a ghost town would be an understatement. The only person we did see in that quaint harbour town was an aged old lady whom Carole thought might be a witch.

We then ventured homeward looking for fish and chips without much success. We ended up at a pub in Collingham where we ate piles of scampi and swilled cinzano. Home at 11 to watch a Frankenstein epic.

Mum's hurt her foot and think she may have broken a bone or something.

-==-

Saturday August 10, 1974

Mum gets John and I up at 7.30. To the YP for 9. Pleasant morning at work. I file a lot on President Ford and poor old Nixon.

Darling Denny rings me at about 10.30 enquiring about tonight's arrangemnts for the Scarborough trip. I ask her what she feels like this morning, being drunk last night, and she informs me that Peter Mather look he back to his place until nearly 5am. We laugh. Finish work by 11.30 and come straight home. Lunch with __ and laugh at the holiday photographs which the girls took in Spain. Poor Susan spent £5 having 40 of them developed.

See in the Airedale & Wharfedale Observer that Barbara Woodhead married last weekend. God Bless her. My favourite girlfriend is off the market, and I do suppose that type of female has now gone into complete extinction.

John and I go to the White Swan in Yeadon at 6.15, where Denny, Chris and Pete soon follow. Sit until almost 7 without seeing anyone we know. All the crowd are dressed in casual jeans and things and we feel rather stupid, Chris, Denny, John and Pete and I that is , being garbed in our Buckingham Palace garden party type outfits. On coach at 7.10 and leave for Scarbrough, which seems too far away to go just for an evening. On our arrival everyone goes to the pub except Denny and I who go find a fish and chip shop in the backstreets.At 10.20, having had nothing to drink at all, we go to the Penthouse Disco, which is the roughest place I've ever been to and even Denny says she will never criticise Wikis again. However, they play some fantastic music and we manage to enjoy ourselves without consuming any vast quantity of ale or spirits at all (see next page). Denny and I go for a walk on the beach at about 1.30am and we are forced to return quite early due to the drizzle which soaks us thoroughly. The walk certainly brought Denny from her semi-coma, and we were quite cheerful when we arrived back a the Penthouse. The others joined us at 2am in a shop doorway here we sheltered from the rain. Phyllis Whitethighs (our new name for Christine W) was an absolute bore all evening and shouldn't have bothered coming in that kind of mood. Coach at 2.30am - home by 5am. Terrible cramp in my stomach and no sleep until 7am.

-==-