2nd Sunday in Advent
No hangover. Up at a grotesquely late hour. Lynn and David were screaming with laughter in the garden with Mum and Dad and Chris Baker and three or four Christmas trees. Rain was gushing down but it didn't dampen Lynn's high spirits. She is always wonderful and child~like at Yuletide ~ even after all these years of marital agony. This hysteria comes the ancient Wilson love of Christmas which is steeped in folklore and mystery. The things Great~Uncle Albert did with his mince pies cannot adequately be described here.
Discussing next year's holiday with Sue she says that she and Pete cannot be included because they are saving up this year and intend getting engaged in January, 1980, and married in the following June. She'd like to marry on June 19 ~ Mum & Dad's 26th wedding anniversary. Nothing is official of course, and no doubt Peter will be the last to know. She is always so calm about these matters and almost unenthusiastic. In similar circumstances Lynn would be on the verge of wetting herself. I will not believe it until I actually see it.
Dad and Dave went down to Burley (in Wharfedale) to glue tiles all over the kitchen and Lynn and Mum spent the afternoon baking mince pies.
We all ate at about 6:30 and then I persuaded them to watch "Richard II" by Shakespeare on BBC2. Lynn and Dave went off at about 9 o'clock because she couldn't understand John of Gaunt's senile deliberations. I really do think that the young people of today should have more patience with Shakespeare. He is so easy to understand if you are prepared to concentrate. Lynn said she thought the play was boring! How can Richard II be boring?
To bed at 1:00am and shudder at the thought of the YP. Weekends just dissolve, don't they?
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The journal of a Yorkshire lad from the age of 17 in 1973 through several decades .... Transcribing from handwritten volume to blog may take some time ...
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Saturday December 9, 1978
Sun rises 07:54
Sun sets 15:52
KING HENRY VI YOU SILLY GIT
Joke: "What fucks old age pensioners?" (For the answer see the heading of Dec 16).
My stomach isn't what it should be today. I am dribbling and rumbling all over the place and put it down to the Tetley's bitter in the Shoulder last night.
Did absolutely nothing all day other than listen to music and watching Mummy going about her work. If I was the Holy Father I'd have her beatified. (Richard III's niece, Margaret, Countess of Salisbury was beatified in the 1880s). Mum does work like a bee though.
Tonight: phoned Chippy at 7 and he and Frank came at 8. We went to Queensway for Gus and then had a drink in the Crown before moving on to the Original Oak to meet Johnny. We latched on to the vicars and tarts. Frank and I went outside to change into our costumes. He was clad in a black skirt and canary~yellow jacket and I put on a white shirt backwards beneath a black t~shirt so that soon I'm the image of the Archdeacon of Bath &Wells. Frank brought the place to a standstill with his impersonation of a tart, he even used the ladies toilets. The gin and ale swilled everywhere. I persuaded a crowd of people to join me in the singing of rousing hymns including "Christ the Lord is Risen Today, Hallelujah!" Someone complemented me on my ecclesiastical voice. One gorgeous tart said I sound like William Rushton! What a tremendous complement. I didn't know I was so articulate. An articulated lorry yes, but no orator.
We gave a lift to a guy called Smith and carrying a seven pint can I entered the party. As usual everything is shrouded in mist and stale alcohol fumes. I had a romantic interlude with one nameless tart who enquired: "Ooh Father, where did you learn to kiss like that?"
Became deeply involved in a discussion on which part of the UK is the friendliest. I said (of course) that Yorkshiremen are the warmest but my opponent said boys from Devon are far friendlier. I concluded that they all vote Liberal in Devon and are invariably homosexual, at which I was set upon by a rugby player from Paignton.
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Sun sets 15:52
KING HENRY VI YOU SILLY GIT
Joke: "What fucks old age pensioners?" (For the answer see the heading of Dec 16).
My stomach isn't what it should be today. I am dribbling and rumbling all over the place and put it down to the Tetley's bitter in the Shoulder last night.
Did absolutely nothing all day other than listen to music and watching Mummy going about her work. If I was the Holy Father I'd have her beatified. (Richard III's niece, Margaret, Countess of Salisbury was beatified in the 1880s). Mum does work like a bee though.
Original Oak: Headingley |
We gave a lift to a guy called Smith and carrying a seven pint can I entered the party. As usual everything is shrouded in mist and stale alcohol fumes. I had a romantic interlude with one nameless tart who enquired: "Ooh Father, where did you learn to kiss like that?"
Became deeply involved in a discussion on which part of the UK is the friendliest. I said (of course) that Yorkshiremen are the warmest but my opponent said boys from Devon are far friendlier. I concluded that they all vote Liberal in Devon and are invariably homosexual, at which I was set upon by a rugby player from Paignton.
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Friday December 8, 1978
Not too hung~over, but all the same took my weekly dose of Eno's on my arrival at the barren, deserted office.
Malcolm was working flat out to get the EP on the street. I gave him a few items of interest from the Daily Telegraph and he snatched them up eagerly and called me a "grand lad". Am I perhaps a creep, or just nice and helpful? Peter Lazenby wouldn't approve of my assisting here. Sarah is still off.
At 2 Eileen and I went to Len's for a couple of lagers. At 3 I began my Christmas shopping in torrents of rain and in 90 minutes I purchased five presents and spent £20. Easily done.
Home and dry for 5:30. Devoured a pile of cheese sandwiches. Saw on the news that Golda Meir has died. I believe she is the eagle which escaped from London Zoo in 1966 or thereabouts. (Am I mad?)
Out to the Shoulder of Mutton with Sue & Pete at 8 and are joined by the mob. Johnny is home from college and he is taking us to a party in Headingley tomorrow night ~ a 'Vicars & Tarts' arrangement. I spent very little but enjoyed it all the same. In fact I was slightly pissed.
At 10 we went to the White Cross and then back to _____West's house opposite the old police station. (He was the lad who thumped me, Dave Lawson and Andrew Dean, after the Fieldhead School prize giving day in Dec 1971). However, Christmas is the season for forgiving. Besides, he bought me a whisky. They played cards and I watched 'Pennies from Heaven' and completed a crossword. Later I read an interesting article on carp fishing in an angling volume which educated me greatly. Home at 1 o'clock and to bed.
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Malcolm was working flat out to get the EP on the street. I gave him a few items of interest from the Daily Telegraph and he snatched them up eagerly and called me a "grand lad". Am I perhaps a creep, or just nice and helpful? Peter Lazenby wouldn't approve of my assisting here. Sarah is still off.
At 2 Eileen and I went to Len's for a couple of lagers. At 3 I began my Christmas shopping in torrents of rain and in 90 minutes I purchased five presents and spent £20. Easily done.
Golda Meir: eagle? |
Out to the Shoulder of Mutton with Sue & Pete at 8 and are joined by the mob. Johnny is home from college and he is taking us to a party in Headingley tomorrow night ~ a 'Vicars & Tarts' arrangement. I spent very little but enjoyed it all the same. In fact I was slightly pissed.
Pennies from Heaven ... |
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Thursday December 7, 1978
Moon's first quarter 00:34
Slightly festive. Out tonight with Christine to the Fox & Hounds in a deluge of bloody rain. She was swearing, using four~letter words in fact, about getting her delicious hair wet.
The Fox was dead and dull and was brightened slightly by the arrival of Philip Knowles and a fellow soccer enthusiast. He and CB had been out together last night.
At 10:30 we went to Oakwood Hall and danced all night. We must be growing quite ancient and unfit because at 1:30 we were exhausted and close to collapse. Sweat trickled and cascaded down the delightful contours of Christine's form.
Peter, Gus, Chippy and Dave Wainwright made an appearance but we didn't fraternize. Christine and Chippy have something of a personality clash. In fact, they hate each other.
Outside was hilarious. Christine wanted a curry and a £1 note from her purse blew from her fingers and under the mobile curry van. I proceeded to discard clothing and spread~eagle myself beneath the vehicle to salvage the offending note much to the amusement of the assembled multitude. I got stuck. People tried to pull me out. A woman dropped an onion bhaji and it rolled between my legs ~ like a game of sexual croquet. Eventually I got out, covered in filth and clutching CB's money.
Christine laughed all the way home. bed at 2am.
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Slightly festive. Out tonight with Christine to the Fox & Hounds in a deluge of bloody rain. She was swearing, using four~letter words in fact, about getting her delicious hair wet.
The Fox was dead and dull and was brightened slightly by the arrival of Philip Knowles and a fellow soccer enthusiast. He and CB had been out together last night.
At 10:30 we went to Oakwood Hall and danced all night. We must be growing quite ancient and unfit because at 1:30 we were exhausted and close to collapse. Sweat trickled and cascaded down the delightful contours of Christine's form.
Peter, Gus, Chippy and Dave Wainwright made an appearance but we didn't fraternize. Christine and Chippy have something of a personality clash. In fact, they hate each other.
Sexual croquet ... |
Christine laughed all the way home. bed at 2am.
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Wednesday December 6, 1978
On safari with Deborah ... |
Warmer today and no bloody fog. Jenny Rawnsley made a record at school yesterday afternoon and so Jim now has orders to purchase a "music centre". I don't like this description of a record player. It sounds to me as though he's going to put in a take~over bid for EMI or the Rank Organisation. Poor, eccentric James. He could so easily have stepped from the pages of a Jane Austen novel. (I think Jane's "Five Go Off in a Caravan" is her masterpiece ~ Ed.)
Left the YP at 2pm due to the lack of work due to the strike. Malcolm Barker and I are now firm friends. He stood with me this morning showing me the EP copy as though I am the EP news editor or even ~ dare I say it ~ Helen Atha. Blimey I am becoming big~headed and fanciful.
Home at 3. Just ate and watched TV tonight. "Edward and Mrs Simpson" was good. Cynthia Harris plays the duchess as a power~mad, selfish, calculating hag. Peggy Ashcroft is good as Queen Mary, and the girl who plays the young Duchess of York bears a remarkable likeness to her.
To bed at 12:40 after watching an interview with Woody Allen on the BBC. He really is the funniest man in the world, and so ugly too. I could listen to him for hours. Sat in bed with nothing to read. However, I won't let it get me down.
The mystery King of England in yesterday's competition was born today.
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Tuesday December 5, 1978
Fog again. I didn't get to work until 9.05am but who cares? No NUJ members were working and we found Malcolm Barker attempting to bring out a newspaper quite alone.
I saw in the Daily Telegraph death announcements that Sir David Salt, Bt, has died. When he was in his fifties in 1975 he married an old woman in her 70s. Also spotted that Lord Harewood's aunt, Viscountess Boyne, has died aged 75. Malcolm was thrilled by these items of news and snatched them up it fill the pages of the pathetic EP.
At 3pm with all the routine work finished I left the office and attempted to get but a bus but none were forthcoming, so I caught a train at 3:45.
Read Kenneth Harris's interview with the Prime Minister in the Observer (Sunday). Silly Old Jim (Callaghan) says he's going to go on looking after us until he's in his eighties. The beloved leader fails to see why politicians give up and retire at sixty when they are the peak of their brilliance. I agree, Jim. Churchill was almost 150 when they finally shot him, and Mr Gladstone was 463.
I am going to give you ten guesses as to which British monarch was born on December 6. (Yes, I know that's tomorrow). Come on! Who am I? I was styled "Dei Gratia Rex Angliae et Franciae et Dominus Hiberniae" and was born at Windsor on Dec 6, 1421. Crowned at Westminster on Nov 6, 1429, and crowned King of France at Notre Dame, Dec 17, 1431. I married April 22, 1445, Margaret of Anjou, daughter of Rene, Duke of Anjou, titular King of Sicily, Naples and Jerusalem (descended from the Count of Anjou, brother of Charles V). I was deposed after the second Battle of St Albans, March 4, 1461, and re~instated Oct 9, 1470, from when I reigned until taken prisoner in April 1471; I died in the Tower of London shortly after the Battle of Tewkesbury, May 4, 1471, it is supposed by violence, and was buried at Windsor. Who am I? For the answer refer to the block capitals above Dec 9.
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I saw in the Daily Telegraph death announcements that Sir David Salt, Bt, has died. When he was in his fifties in 1975 he married an old woman in her 70s. Also spotted that Lord Harewood's aunt, Viscountess Boyne, has died aged 75. Malcolm was thrilled by these items of news and snatched them up it fill the pages of the pathetic EP.
At 3pm with all the routine work finished I left the office and attempted to get but a bus but none were forthcoming, so I caught a train at 3:45.
Silly Old Jim |
I am going to give you ten guesses as to which British monarch was born on December 6. (Yes, I know that's tomorrow). Come on! Who am I? I was styled "Dei Gratia Rex Angliae et Franciae et Dominus Hiberniae" and was born at Windsor on Dec 6, 1421. Crowned at Westminster on Nov 6, 1429, and crowned King of France at Notre Dame, Dec 17, 1431. I married April 22, 1445, Margaret of Anjou, daughter of Rene, Duke of Anjou, titular King of Sicily, Naples and Jerusalem (descended from the Count of Anjou, brother of Charles V). I was deposed after the second Battle of St Albans, March 4, 1461, and re~instated Oct 9, 1470, from when I reigned until taken prisoner in April 1471; I died in the Tower of London shortly after the Battle of Tewkesbury, May 4, 1471, it is supposed by violence, and was buried at Windsor. Who am I? For the answer refer to the block capitals above Dec 9.
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20140121
Monday December 4, 1978
This afternoon the National Union of Journalists voted to strike, and according to John MacMurray it may mean a virtual shut~down (of the Yorkshire Post) until the New Year. The editors will not last long working alone. A sad day indeed. However, we in the library will carry on undaunted.
Sarah is off with a cold which is no surprise because she looked washed out all last week. No personal phone calls today - but I did send a quick note to Christine on the prospect of our seeing each other on Thursday.
Carol J saw Jacq on Saturday night at the Regent in Chapel Allerton. ___________________.
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Sarah is off with a cold which is no surprise because she looked washed out all last week. No personal phone calls today - but I did send a quick note to Christine on the prospect of our seeing each other on Thursday.
Carol J saw Jacq on Saturday night at the Regent in Chapel Allerton. ___________________.
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Sunday December 3, 1978
First Sunday in Advent
Bad hangover. Up at 11:30. Devoured a couple of boiled eggs and masses of toast. Mummy said I looked awful.
Spent the afternoon in a coma and only revived at 8 o'clock to watch Patrick Ryecart and Rebecca Saire in 'Romeo & Juliet' on BBC2. Very enjoyable, and just the thing to clear my pickled, pathetic brain. Watched another film with Daddy from 11, and so I didn't hit the sack until after 1am. This was mad I know, because I really needed the sleep.
Pictures in the Sunday papers of the Prince of Wales and Lady Jane Wellesley in Spain. The Duke of Wellington is saying that the couple are just friends, but I expect he's been groomed by Capt Mark Phillips's parents who said exactly the same thing in '73 throughout Anne and Mark's secret courtship. What else can His Grace possibly say though? He can hardly say they've been screwing for three years and that HRH is virtually one of the family. To say such things would put his KG in jeopardy. We shall just have to wait and see, eh? Blimey, how many times have I said this on the subject of the prince and his lady associates? I'm growing steadily worse as a royal pundit. Before long I'll be a male Audrey Whiting, the so~called expert on the royal family, who knows absolutely bugger all when it comes down to it.
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Bad hangover. Up at 11:30. Devoured a couple of boiled eggs and masses of toast. Mummy said I looked awful.
Spent the afternoon in a coma and only revived at 8 o'clock to watch Patrick Ryecart and Rebecca Saire in 'Romeo & Juliet' on BBC2. Very enjoyable, and just the thing to clear my pickled, pathetic brain. Watched another film with Daddy from 11, and so I didn't hit the sack until after 1am. This was mad I know, because I really needed the sleep.
Pictures in the Sunday papers of the Prince of Wales and Lady Jane Wellesley in Spain. The Duke of Wellington is saying that the couple are just friends, but I expect he's been groomed by Capt Mark Phillips's parents who said exactly the same thing in '73 throughout Anne and Mark's secret courtship. What else can His Grace possibly say though? He can hardly say they've been screwing for three years and that HRH is virtually one of the family. To say such things would put his KG in jeopardy. We shall just have to wait and see, eh? Blimey, how many times have I said this on the subject of the prince and his lady associates? I'm growing steadily worse as a royal pundit. Before long I'll be a male Audrey Whiting, the so~called expert on the royal family, who knows absolutely bugger all when it comes down to it.
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Saturday December 2, 1978
Sun rises 07:45 Sun sets 15:55
Mohammedan New Year {1399}
Snow and ice. Out of bed at 10:30 and had eggs and bacon with David and watched the snow cast a shroud over Burley~in~Wharfedale. I must be dreadfully spoiled at home because this house is just too cold for me. Lynn and Dave just don't seem to notice. No doubt they have become used to the cold, freak, indoor conditions.
I helped Dave with a few chores and he brought me home at about 1pm. Lynn went off to Otley Christmas shopping and Dave returned to his DIY escapades. I went to wallow in a hot bath to de~frost my blue extremities. Passed the remainder of the afternoon idling around and doing bugger all.
Out with Christine at 8:15 to the Shoulder, then the New Inn in Yeadon, and finally to the Fox. Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy and Frank H were in the Fox. Frank says he's going to Crumpet, at Batley, on Dec 15, to celebrate his 21st. Great stuff.
Christine was monopolised by Philip Houldsworth and Garry Walton, and I made her make a hurried departure with me at 11. Slightly foggy. We drove to the Il Trovatore at Ilkley but were refused admission because CB was wearing jeans! This a phenomena. I cannot stand the place anyway. Undaunted, we went on to Oakwood Hall, arriving at 12:15. The place was packed out with Christmas revellers and the whole place was bedecked with artificial Christmas trees, tinsel, and trimmings. It put us in a very festive frame of mind. I became quite pissed but Christine didn't touch alcohol because of the gruesome weather conditions. Home after 2 with bleary eyes and a raging headache. Pernod ~ ugh!
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Mohammedan New Year {1399}
Snow and ice. Out of bed at 10:30 and had eggs and bacon with David and watched the snow cast a shroud over Burley~in~Wharfedale. I must be dreadfully spoiled at home because this house is just too cold for me. Lynn and Dave just don't seem to notice. No doubt they have become used to the cold, freak, indoor conditions.
I helped Dave with a few chores and he brought me home at about 1pm. Lynn went off to Otley Christmas shopping and Dave returned to his DIY escapades. I went to wallow in a hot bath to de~frost my blue extremities. Passed the remainder of the afternoon idling around and doing bugger all.
Out with Christine at 8:15 to the Shoulder, then the New Inn in Yeadon, and finally to the Fox. Sue, Pete, Gus, Chippy and Frank H were in the Fox. Frank says he's going to Crumpet, at Batley, on Dec 15, to celebrate his 21st. Great stuff.
Christine was monopolised by Philip Houldsworth and Garry Walton, and I made her make a hurried departure with me at 11. Slightly foggy. We drove to the Il Trovatore at Ilkley but were refused admission because CB was wearing jeans! This a phenomena. I cannot stand the place anyway. Undaunted, we went on to Oakwood Hall, arriving at 12:15. The place was packed out with Christmas revellers and the whole place was bedecked with artificial Christmas trees, tinsel, and trimmings. It put us in a very festive frame of mind. I became quite pissed but Christine didn't touch alcohol because of the gruesome weather conditions. Home after 2 with bleary eyes and a raging headache. Pernod ~ ugh!
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Friday December 1, 1978
Still foggy and damp.
I phoned Michelle at the travel agents to enquire about apartments in Ibiza for next July or August. She said bookings are going well and many thousands are clamouring for foreign holidays after the disastrous summer at home. She will come back to me tomorrow or Monday. She has such a wonderful, sexy voice.
I did not go out on the razzle this evening. I met David B at 5:30 at Jacomelli's and we drove to Yeadon to collect Lynn at Morrison's. Back to Burley for din~dins and then Dave and I, clad in overalls, slapped gloss paint all over the downstairs living quarters. This was a historic event, because by midnight we had daubed our last splattering of paint on 7, Lawn Road, for some considerable time.
We had a few glasses of sherry to celebrate and watched a western on the microscopic TV and retired to bed at about 2. The house was icy cold, but Lynn had warmed my bed with a hot water bottle.
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I phoned Michelle at the travel agents to enquire about apartments in Ibiza for next July or August. She said bookings are going well and many thousands are clamouring for foreign holidays after the disastrous summer at home. She will come back to me tomorrow or Monday. She has such a wonderful, sexy voice.
I did not go out on the razzle this evening. I met David B at 5:30 at Jacomelli's and we drove to Yeadon to collect Lynn at Morrison's. Back to Burley for din~dins and then Dave and I, clad in overalls, slapped gloss paint all over the downstairs living quarters. This was a historic event, because by midnight we had daubed our last splattering of paint on 7, Lawn Road, for some considerable time.
We had a few glasses of sherry to celebrate and watched a western on the microscopic TV and retired to bed at about 2. The house was icy cold, but Lynn had warmed my bed with a hot water bottle.
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Thursday November 30, 1978
New Moon 08:19
St Andrew's Day {Scotland}
It's late so I'm going to be brief. Didn't venture out for the usual orgy of ales and delights of the female form ~ party due to the poor state of my finances, but mainly due to the heavy fog. Very dense and nasty it was.
Jim and Margaret came here at 8:30 and we watched a Greta Garbo film on the BBC.
The Prince of Wales is in Brussels on a visit to the EEC headquarters and tonight he dined with King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola at Laeken Palace. Princess Marie-Astrid was not present though she frequently stays with her uncle, the Belgian king. I do not want HRH to marry a foreign princess when these islands of ours are swarming with English roses. It is heart rending to know that the prince is going on to Spain for the weekend with the Duke of Wellington and Lady Jane Wellesley ~ reputedly a 'shooting weekend'. I do wish he'd pull his finger out.
Bed at 12 o'clock. Susan was in all evening.
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St Andrew's Day {Scotland}
It's late so I'm going to be brief. Didn't venture out for the usual orgy of ales and delights of the female form ~ party due to the poor state of my finances, but mainly due to the heavy fog. Very dense and nasty it was.
Jim and Margaret came here at 8:30 and we watched a Greta Garbo film on the BBC.
The Prince of Wales is in Brussels on a visit to the EEC headquarters and tonight he dined with King Baudouin and Queen Fabiola at Laeken Palace. Princess Marie-Astrid was not present though she frequently stays with her uncle, the Belgian king. I do not want HRH to marry a foreign princess when these islands of ours are swarming with English roses. It is heart rending to know that the prince is going on to Spain for the weekend with the Duke of Wellington and Lady Jane Wellesley ~ reputedly a 'shooting weekend'. I do wish he'd pull his finger out.
Bed at 12 o'clock. Susan was in all evening.
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