Showing posts with label viscount linley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label viscount linley. Show all posts

20190313

Wednesday August 1, 1979

_. Still wet today. It's so-called Yorkshire Day. I refuse to have anything to do with such a parochial celebration. A nauseating white flag is hanging limply over the YP building. It looks as if we have surrendered to one of the larger national newspapers. Have we perhaps under siege from the Morning Star and the Socialist Worker?

The Queen Mother was today installed as the 160th Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports at Dover Castle. I viewed the ceremonial on TV. The gale force winds and driving torrents of rain failed to wipe that beautiful smile from Her Majesty's face. She must have been water-logged. The Queen Mother was accompanied by Prince Edward, Viscount Linley and Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones. Lady Sarah looked plump and sad, no doubt thinking about her father and new half-sister. The Snowdon's new baby is to be Lady Frances. Princess Margaret, stricken by 'flu, is confined to her cabin on the Royal Yacht Britannia.

Ally is depressed tonight. She went to Club Street with Susan and Peter and returned half an hour later down in the dumps. Sue and Pete had gone on and on criticising the place, pulling it to pieces. Ally, being the person she is took it all to heart.

Karen phoned to say that she and Stephen are having some sort of function tomorrow and would we all like to attend. I said yes, but Susan and Peter made no response. __________.

-=-



20110315

Wednesday July 14, 1976


Bastile Day: Marlene and Frank call to see us at 7pm or so and I play in the garden with Mark & Debbie. They leave at 8 and for the remainder of the evening the three of us sit glued to the TV watching the 'Horse of the Year Show' or something. A sun-tanned Princess Margaret was in the royal box taking a few drags on a cigarette before presenting the King George V Cup and the Queen Elizabeth II Cup. At first I thought Lord Snowdon was with her but soon realised it was Lord Linley. Roddy Llewellyn was nowhere in sight.

A (post)card in Lynn's handwriting from Cala Milor, Majorca. They're having a great time.

Retire to bed at midnight after compiling a long letter to Lynne. Mum mentioned her again tonight. I think she's taken a great liking to her.

-==-

Friday November 2, 1984

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas I got up with Samuel at 7 and took him down and gave him a Weetabix and toast which he ate with gusto. He d...