Tuesday May 2, 1978

Continuing torrential weather. Jacq and I went by train to Leeds arriving there at 8:10am. She went to the YWCA to slip into something befitting a Dacre, Son and Hartley employee. I astounded them all at the YP by my early presence.

The YP was dead. I scrounged a lift to Guiseley at 4 with Delia & Sarah.

More ghastly salad for tea and afterwards I phoned Stockport Dave to tell him I cannot afford to go over on Saturday, and he suggested coming to see me instead. ________________.

I didn't mention this at the time but last week Dave of Gloucester phoned to say he couldn't make it to Helen and Graham's on May 19. I am now going to have to contact Helen to decline the long standing invitation ~ yet again. They'll be taking it personally before very long. I was so looking forward to seeing them again. Jacq and I discuss going together to see the Malins, but the week after it is Trixie's 50th birthday party, and the fare to Peterborough we simply cannot manage.

Tonight watched a programme about the Great Train Robbery (1963) and then retired to bed at 11:30.

-=-

Thursday February 23, 1978

Yes, dear reader, the thaw is upon us. But the poor soggy people in Devon and Cornwall are 2,000,000 fathoms beneath the frozen depths of whatever sea surrounds that picturesque peninsula.

Blimey, this time next week and it will be March and everything that this month brings to mind will be going on in the hedgerows and fields of this great island of ours. Let's hope that the mood of the population brightens. I really wouldn't mind creating a new life in 1978. I'm nearly 23 ____________.

To get a bit, or slightly serious: yesterday I sent a letter to Helen & Graham from my solicitors moaning about the lack of communication from Ailesworth ... and what do you think? Yes, I had a letter in this morning's post saying May 19 is just right. They probably think I'm over the top in the Happy World, where all right minded people belong.

Watched a good Yankee film on BBC2. Jim and Margaret Nason came up at 9 and stayed until approx 12. The evening ended with everyone laughing and in high spirits. Lynn __________________________.Oh dear.

-=-

Wednesday January 11, 1978

Snow, gales and blizzards today. Went to the YP feeling peculiarly industrious and worked without a lunch break until 4:30. Marita brought me to Rawdon which was a help. I ate like a horse on getting home and felt bloated and uncomfortable afterwards.

More 'gush' in the morning papers about Prince Andrew and his 'sweetheart'. Editors throughout the kingdom must have tired of the firemen's strike and the prime minister's visit to India because front page news for a royal prince is quite rare these days.

Ernest Bishop: assassinated.

Reading 'The Scarlet Pimpernel' by that baroness. I really should have read this at 14 or 15 but in those days - Oh how far they seem off now - I was into the heavy volumes of reminiscences of lofty 18th century geezers and had no time for childish fiction.

A play starring Hugh Lloyd on BBC2 caught my attention. This was followed by Deborah Kerr in 'The Prisoner of Zenda', Oh and the assassination of Ernest Bishop on 'Coronation Street' shook the entire nation. The Queen has sent a personal message of sympathy to the surviving cast.

I intended having a bath but by midnight I was no nearer my watery end and I sat listening to the roar of a 70 mph gale on Hawksworth Lane. The late TV news featured our seasonal weather as the main item of information and Mama quivered from head to foot. My God! If we can't have a spot of nasty weather in January when can we? What do they down at the meteorological office expect? A bloody heatwave or something? A sandstorm or a drought? Weather, and talking about it, is the British disease.

-=-

Thursday June 30, 1977

The last day of bleedin' June. What a stinker of a month we've had, eh? The most cloudy June since 1306 BC and the wettest since 1204 when Richard the Lionheart's armour went rusty. Honest.

Richard the Lionheart: rusty armour?

No evening on the town tonight. Was so busy at work today I had no time to phone Carole.

The fact that it is pay day makes no difference at all to my sorry financial plight. I discovered that I owed it all to Lynn, Mama or Mr Barclay.

Just watched television all evening. Felt shagged out. At one point I passed out on the settee serenaded by the revolting Max Bygraves.

Mum and Dad went out for a drink. I was in bed by 10.30pm.

-=-

Monday June 27, 1977

Stayed in bed until 10.30 which was bliss indeed. It's the sort of thing Rachmaninov would have composed a concerto about. Rhaphsody on a Snoozing theme, &c. (Oh no, I've spelt rhapsody incorrectly).

Pine Tops wine-making ...

After bacon, eggs and mushrooms Peter took Sue and me to Morrison's for more wine-making provisions for Mama. We are going to resemble a brewery before very long - I hope.

All this wine-making takes our mind off the weather at least. Never have I seen such a damp, dismal June. 1976 may well have been the driest period since Henry VIII was a lad but this must surely be the wettest since Noah was up to his tricks.

Lunch with Sue, Pete, Mama and Papa. Watched a film this afternoon on the topical subject of the British working man and strikes (bearing the Grunwick Dispute in mind). Peter Sellers played a shop steward and in one scene, where he is departing from home one morning for picket duty, his wife (Irene Handl) says: "It appears to me, Fred Kite, that you only do any bloody work when you're on strike." Quite an apt statement from little Irene, I fear. Half the bloody pickets in the Grunwick dispute have worked more hours recently than they ever did before. You mark my words.

Evening: Assisted Mama in her wine-making activities which I found enthralling. We made mead as well as a gallon of orange wine. The dining room resembles a distillery, or brewery, or whatever they call a wine-making complex.

I almost phoned Carole today but then thought I'd let her stew, brew, or ferment in her own juice for a few days before doing so. However, I do not feel all that mad about Saturday night - but it was most devilish of her I suppose.

-=-

Thursday January 13, 1977

Snow on snow on snow. Such a cold day. An 'old timer' sat near me on the bus this evening [he must have been 100 years old] said: 'I've never seen snow like it.' I fully agree with the anonymous old gent. It didn't begin to come down until 3pm and by the time I left work at 4.30 I realised I was in for a rare experience. Talk about Scott of the Antarctic!

That clapped out old adventurer has nothing on me. I was travelling home from 4.30 until 7pm. Imagine the state I was in on my arrival. Lynne had to abandoning her car on Southway and was compelled to stay the night here. Sue and Peter made it home but Lynn rang from Dave's to say she could not get home. She was close to tears at the thought of having to stay out all night. The snow - looking out onto it - looks fabulous. Mum, a romantic, says there's something magical about it. Dad battled into work at 10pm. Lynne and I sit with Mum discussing the 'family tree' lark which I've been dwelling on for many years. I'm going to make a serious attempt to trace my lineage, beginning with the Wilson family. Have a few glasses of whisky.

Wednesday December 1, 1976

OK, say I'm like Greta Garbo if you like. I don't care. Is it some sort of passion which is clouding and confusing my mind? I finished with Carole on May 3 after we'd been through a bad patch. OK that's a fact, but why have I felt so insecure since? ___________________. Understand me now when I say I am a thorough swine for doing what I did to her. Do you realise the agony? Is it agony? Pride is what I think it is. I would have gone back out with her months ago if it hadn't have been for what people might have said. Admittedly, in Apr-May she was becoming too serious - but did I really have to be so drastic? My life is in torment now and I'm just too bewildered to know how to get out of it._____. Carole is going out with [Peter] Fogarty and I'm 'going out' with Lynne and everything is stale. It is the fact that I am even doubting my own mind that worries me. I always felt good with Carole and as I've often said before Lynne ___________. I'm saying no more on the subject now. I just feel sad and lonely and can only blame myself for the state of things.

Sue & Lynn at Pine Tops

[Come off it, Michael. Is this the seven month itch?]

Meanwhile, back to reality. A freezing day. The coldest since last winter, I think. Kathleen is off with her pneumonia & so I have a good day at the YP. Kathleen is such a fuss. I always get things done much quicker when she is incapacitated.

Home at 6 o'clock. Late because I worked until 5 due to Mrs Johnson's appointment with her doctor. Idle gossips are muttering things about ____________________.

Mum and Dad go to John & Maria's at 8.30 ad I sit alone watching 'I, Claudius' on BBC2. An excellent serial indeed, as I've said before. Retire to bed at 12.30 still feeling decidedly odd on the matter of Miss Phillips. For some terrible reason I was on the verge of telephoning her at work today in order to secure her person for a drink or two and chat by way of a belated birthday present. Why do I want to do this after seven months? _____________.

-==-

Monday August 23, 1976

Need I mention the weather? Just take it from me that things remain just the same until I give you further notice.

At work Sarah tells me that Peter [Baker] says he is a divorcee, but she doesn't believe him, and thinks he may still be married. She thinks it would be interesting to investigate him. We need a private detective on the job.

Marlene, Frank, Auntie Mabel and the children come here after tea. At 7.30 Sue, Pete and I walk down to Silverdale Drive to see John & Maria's house. They got the key on Friday morning. John was putting up a cornice in his dining area but it soon became too dark to work. After a quick inspection of the upstairs paintwork he brings us home in the VW. Mum had departed to Maria's to see Molly.

-==-

Sunday August 3, 1975

10th after Trinity. Go bugger off. 93F throughout the UK. Holding a pen isn't advisable in such weather conditions. The hottest day since July 1948 - 27 years?

Monday January 6, 1975

Epiphany. Rotten feeling when I awake, but nevertheless I plod on to the YP. Kathleen was surprised to see me and was preparing to cut the EP. Have a few laughs with Sarah, do all my work, and take a half-day at 12, coming home to the peace of this arm-chair near the window.

Gale force winds are ravaging Yorkshire at the moment & here I am sitting peering out into the bleak garden - my face streaming with cold, not unlike a white meringue with a red, sticky cherry on top (the cherry being my red nose of course). Mum comes in at 1.30 and gets me to rinf the doctor. Make an appointment for 11 o'clock tomorrow morning.

Ring Denny and inform her that the Queen's official birthday this year falls on June 14. She leaps with joy at the thought of spending another week with John and Sheila next summer. Over tea I inform John (John Philip that is, not John Edward) of this joyous piece of information but he is unenthusiastic. He says he wants a 'proper' holiday this year and refuses to waste a week in Windsor. Mum agrees with John and says that I cannot afford this. Whatever the cost, nothing can deter me from seeing the Trooping of the Colour for the fourth year running. Dear Christine B rang at about 11.30 whilst I was at work, and I think it's fabulous how friendly she is now.

-==-

Wednesday January 9, 1974

Uneventful day. The weather persists in being a complete bore. Nothing but rain all day. Looking forward to tomorrow's half day. Should be a laugh at Benton Park.

-=-

Tuesday January 8, 1974

A most efficient day at the YP. By 3 I had completed all my usual work. Janice was on half-day and to celebrate Miss W's birthday we all had a large cream cake each - really sickly. The afternoon tea was revolting and resembled hot water.

Since midday rainstorms have lashed West Yorkshire, and by 4.0 we, or should I say the girls, we panic stricken about getting wet on the walk to the station. Sarah, Anne and I leave at 5. Within 10 minutes I am soaked to the skin. Dive onto the train and sit next to Helen, who repremands me for not attending her New Year party. I make my apoligies. Mr & Mrs Saxton are on the train and little Kathryn and Margaret keeping shouting my name. "Bye bye Michael", when I exit the train on a desolate, monsoon-hit platform, which was of course Guiseley. A terrible walk home was endured, and I fell through the door at 6 absolutely soaked to the skin. Have a hot shower and grab something to eat. See tv in the evening. The close-down at 10.30 is such a ridiculous bore. Mr Heath doesn't deserve my loyalty at all.

-==-

Sunday April 8, 1973

Passion Sunday. The Foreign Secretary, Sir Alec "Rabbit" Douglas-Home, yesterday carried out an attack almost Palmerstonian in its nature and somewhat like Eden's Suez rumpus way back in the '50s. He sent a letter repremanding Smith, the Rhodesian chief, or more commonly known as Adolf Hitler II. Evidently, Smith has jailed one of our news correspondents for apparently no known reason. Sir Alec's note expresses the feelings of horror and humiliation felt by the British public. The only message I have for Sir Alec is: 'You may be a bit vague and old fashioned, but we love you. Send in the troops and bring back good old British rule to this sad, misguided pin-prick of a nation stuck out in the jungles of hot, sticky Africa.'

It was on the evening news at 6pm that Picasso, the world famous artist, has died at his home in France. I have never liked his work but he is a legend in his own right and he will go down in history with all the other great artists.

What a day it has been. It is now 6.15pm and I am sitting in the lounge watching a blinding snow storm unfold outside. For any of the people who deny that the world is heading towards its second ice age I can always say: "You ought to have been in Guiseley on April 8, 1973 and you would have been converted." One would think it is January.

Dave rang me at about 5.45 and he is coming to pick me up in the car at 7.45. He and I and the delightful June will be getting together at the Emmotts as usual. Somehow, the thought of having to walk down the lane in these weather conditions is intolerable. Thank the Lord Dave passed his driving test.

Alison has been here all afternoon watching the TV with us. Mum and Dad went down to South Yorkshire at about 3 and on my arrival back from the Emmotts at 11.15 they are still out. Due to the freak weather conditions I am worried about the whereabouts of Mum and Dad. But Dad is a very competent driver and has never had a bump or mishap.

Dave came for me at 7.45 and even the bad weather did not affect his good driving. June and Linda with L's new boyfriend came about 10 minutes later. He is a very quiet chap. Unlike the late Graham. They leave for the Peacock pub at about 9 o'clock. Snow is terrible. June and I go out to get the buses at 10.30 - Dave having gone to meet his Dad in Leeds. I felt very cold. June is so wonderful. Bus comes at 10.50. Home by 11.15. Watch television with John until close-down. He goes to bed. Mum and Dad are home at 1.30.

--==--

Monday January 8, 1973

My head is heavy with cold. A horrid fog has shrouded the nation since before Xmas. My throat, eyes and ears are all made up with water. Have done bugger all at school. Exams begin on Jan 22. It's about time I began revising seriously. Old Mr Appleyard died at the weekend - a nice old chap really - but he seemed much older than 64. Mum's been in the travel agents again. John definately wants to do Italy in July. Dave L and myself will do Italy, Austria or Switzerland. Mum, Lynn and Sue fancy Austria. Denise was on the telly tonight - throwing a boomerang on Calendar. She looked very nice. We all sat in silence for about 2 minutes. Had a bath at 10.45.


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