Hectic day really. Kathleen and I are rushed off our feet, but we plod on regardless. After lunch, Janice, the high and mighty Mrs Beaumont, pays us a visit in the company of her daughter, a pretty little thing aged fourteen weeks. She stays for the bigger part of the afternoon. so no work got done at all really. You know how funny women are with chubby little blue-eyed nippers - all hysterics and 'Goo Goo, Gaa Gaa' &c.
Arrive home at 5.30 feeling rather knackered. All week I've been saying 'Michael, you're not going out until Friday - so don't you dare try', &c. However, Maurice is off work, so I'm doing a 5pm-12 stint, which means I won't be going out on Friday either, unless I go straight to Wikis. So Wednesday night looks very much like a pub night to me.
I feel lately as though I want to break from routine and do something completely different and wildly interesting. Painting perhaps, or even a bit of writing, but the former seems the most likely at present. Yes, from next week on, a new Mig Rhodes will emerge in these pages. The creative Mig. The out-door type of Mig. No, I haven't gone mad. It's the Spring in the air, I think.
-==-
20100318
Tuesday March 18, 1975
Quite a day of excitement really. That treasured relic of the Parliamentary system, namely Uncle Harold, announced today that the Labour government is in favour of our nation remaining a member of the Common Market. I can't really see why he made such a fuss about it in the first place. The one good thing which the late Mr Heath did was to obtain our membership of the E.E.C. and at the time I thought it was most childish of Uncle Harold to say he'd bring us out. Anyway, the so-called referendum will decide categorically what we're going to do - but if both Conservative and Labour parties think we should stay in, I fail to grasp why we have been consulted at all. I'm intending ignoring the referendum when it comes. Futile things like this should be of no concern to the general public at all. It's a bloody disgrace really.
Snowed again today. Weird weather. Went for a jog around Leeds at lunchtime. Consumed a couple of sandwiches in Park Square and made several useless attempts to lay hands on a copy of 'Private Eye'.
The editor ran around the library in a flap this morning shouting 'Sheila Viscountess Devonport' in a hurried voice at irregular intervals. No news cuttings were to be found on the dear, noble lady, but I did lay hands on a photo, dated 1952. 'Devonport. Sheila Viscountess D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T. Lady S-H-E-I-L-A Devonport. She's a viscountess. A peeress. L-A-D-Y S-H-E-I-L-A-D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T'. OK, we get the message. We enquire exactly what's happened to the peeress to cause such a panic. He says she's been kidnapped by the Black Panther, and leaves the library laughing hideously. Clearly not a devotee of the aristocracy. We later discover that she's only been forced out of her home in the early hours of the morning, and that no harm has befallen her at all. No doubt you're overjoyed on hearing this.
The Duchess of Kent was in Leeds today on university business.
See a Cary Grant and Doris Day film on BBC2 and stagger to bed at about 11 with P.G. Wodehouse, after listening to Uncle Harold talking a load of old rubbish on the late night news. It's really terrible the way he's trying to hoodwink everyone over this referendum nonsense.
-==-
Snowed again today. Weird weather. Went for a jog around Leeds at lunchtime. Consumed a couple of sandwiches in Park Square and made several useless attempts to lay hands on a copy of 'Private Eye'.
The editor ran around the library in a flap this morning shouting 'Sheila Viscountess Devonport' in a hurried voice at irregular intervals. No news cuttings were to be found on the dear, noble lady, but I did lay hands on a photo, dated 1952. 'Devonport. Sheila Viscountess D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T. Lady S-H-E-I-L-A Devonport. She's a viscountess. A peeress. L-A-D-Y S-H-E-I-L-A-D-E-V-O-N-P-O-R-T'. OK, we get the message. We enquire exactly what's happened to the peeress to cause such a panic. He says she's been kidnapped by the Black Panther, and leaves the library laughing hideously. Clearly not a devotee of the aristocracy. We later discover that she's only been forced out of her home in the early hours of the morning, and that no harm has befallen her at all. No doubt you're overjoyed on hearing this.
The Duchess of Kent was in Leeds today on university business.
See a Cary Grant and Doris Day film on BBC2 and stagger to bed at about 11 with P.G. Wodehouse, after listening to Uncle Harold talking a load of old rubbish on the late night news. It's really terrible the way he's trying to hoodwink everyone over this referendum nonsense.
-==-
Monday March 17, 1975
St Patrick's Day. Snowed today. Bloody weather. The Yorkshire Post today carries an article of some hilarity. Namely, the gathering at Ampleforth Abbey of a merry band of gents - the Knights of the Order of St John of Jerusalem. You're thinking that nothing amusing could possibly be drawn from this article, aren't you? Well, you're very wrong indeed. Oh, indeed, yes. Because staring up from the picture around which the story is based, is the very familiar face of our old pal, Chris Monckton, a knight of the venerable order. Along with his dad, Major-General Viscount Monckton of Brenchley, and 48 million other upper class religious freaks, he is partaking of 'three days of prayer and meditation in preparation for Easter'. I'm not going to say any more on the subject. Instead I'll just titter away to myself.
In keeping with the traditional Monday evening see the tv. Then sit around in bed with 'The Luck of the Bodkins' by P.G. Wodehouse, which I obtained from the library on Thursday or Friday. Can't quite remember which day it was.
-==-
In keeping with the traditional Monday evening see the tv. Then sit around in bed with 'The Luck of the Bodkins' by P.G. Wodehouse, which I obtained from the library on Thursday or Friday. Can't quite remember which day it was.
-==-
Sunday March 16, 1975
Passion Sunday. CB's Birthday. Christmas is a few months early this year. Yes, you've guessed right. It snowed this morning and it's so bloody cold all over it's almost like Arctic conditions, where Capt Scott came a cropper. What a crazy mixed up nation of ours this is.
Do sod all today, and sit in front of the television all night. Laurence Olivier in 'Khartoum'. A good film, and I refuse to be lured to the Hare & Hounds with all the others. It's a nice feeling to be able to prove that alcoholism isn't my leading defect as yet, but I do suppose the coming years will give a more clear analysis.
John comes back with Naomi at about 11 o'clock and I can hear the wedding bells quite clearly this time. I know I've said it before - Christine White, Carol Smith, and Jackie Onassis, but this time it's all quite different. The feeling in my bones is definately conveying the impression this time. We are still unaware as to what denomination the Reverend Mr Downing belongs - and I must admit, the situation is perplexing. He's not C of E, so he's either Mormon, Methodist, Primative Methodist, Baptist, Budhist, Druid or Zionist. I doubt very much whether the chap is a Cardinal - not with an 18 year-old daughter. Methodist too seems unlikely, because they are opposed to drink and little Naomi is propping up the bar of the Hare & Hounds seven nights a week.
-==-
Do sod all today, and sit in front of the television all night. Laurence Olivier in 'Khartoum'. A good film, and I refuse to be lured to the Hare & Hounds with all the others. It's a nice feeling to be able to prove that alcoholism isn't my leading defect as yet, but I do suppose the coming years will give a more clear analysis.
John comes back with Naomi at about 11 o'clock and I can hear the wedding bells quite clearly this time. I know I've said it before - Christine White, Carol Smith, and Jackie Onassis, but this time it's all quite different. The feeling in my bones is definately conveying the impression this time. We are still unaware as to what denomination the Reverend Mr Downing belongs - and I must admit, the situation is perplexing. He's not C of E, so he's either Mormon, Methodist, Primative Methodist, Baptist, Budhist, Druid or Zionist. I doubt very much whether the chap is a Cardinal - not with an 18 year-old daughter. Methodist too seems unlikely, because they are opposed to drink and little Naomi is propping up the bar of the Hare & Hounds seven nights a week.
-==-
Saturday March 15, 1975
Up at noon. Sue wants to go to Bradford in order to get a present for Peter, who is 17 on March 20, and I seem like a capable victim for her escort into Yorkshire's answer to Delhi. A bright sunny afternoon - cold though -is awaiting us in Bradford, and we visit Lynn who is selling suitcases in the British Home Stores. On to see Dear Denny, who enjoyed herself immensely in the Hare last night. Sue purchased a St Christopher locket for Peter, and we vacatedthe city at about 4.30.
To the Hare again. Gillian looks a bloody misery - so I soon get out of her company, and Helen doesn't harbour any grudges about last night, so all's well really.
Christine is in with Gary and she jokes about her birthday cards, but she soon departs when Chris arrives with Denny and Peter Mather. Chris was riddled with laryngitis when I last heard - but he's slightly improved now. John and Co. go off to Wheels and the remainder of us sod about in the Hare until 11. Ron, who was once more than good friends with Denny, and Graham Pease join us. Quite a laugh.
Chris and I come back home for a coffee but he leaves shortly after. See a Bob Hope film with Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. Bed at about 2.30. (It's 1.30 really but they've altered the clocks to Summer Time now.)
-==-
To the Hare again. Gillian looks a bloody misery - so I soon get out of her company, and Helen doesn't harbour any grudges about last night, so all's well really.
Christine is in with Gary and she jokes about her birthday cards, but she soon departs when Chris arrives with Denny and Peter Mather. Chris was riddled with laryngitis when I last heard - but he's slightly improved now. John and Co. go off to Wheels and the remainder of us sod about in the Hare until 11. Ron, who was once more than good friends with Denny, and Graham Pease join us. Quite a laugh.
Chris and I come back home for a coffee but he leaves shortly after. See a Bob Hope film with Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. Bed at about 2.30. (It's 1.30 really but they've altered the clocks to Summer Time now.)
-==-
Friday March 14, 1975
Friday again. Unpleasantness abounds this evening. Never before did I really appreciate just how irresistible I am to our good friends, the opposite sex. Whilst stood in the darkness of Wikis I was in the ridiculous position of holding hands with Helen, kissing Gillian, and attempting to hold a conversation with Christine D. In the process of this orgy of activity I did realise that someone, somewhere along the line would fall foul of my polygamous frolics, and this fleeting whimsy proved to be more than just conjecture. Helen took the huff and dragged Christine off, and I ended up in the bar staring into the false-eye-lash laden eyes of Miss Gillian Upton, wealthy spinster of the Parish of Guiseley, in the County of York. This entertaining episode lasted until 2.10am, and I was well aware that it wasn't quite finished. John and Naomi dragged me back to Miss Upton's for coffee and I proceeded to cremate myself in front of the fire. Sleep crept upon me until 5.20am when John finally decided to take me home. I don't remember just what I said to Gillian exactly, but she seemed peeved about something. She fancies me when she's had a little too much to drink, but my taste isn't in her direction at all reallly.
-==-
-==-
Thursday March 13, 1975
Glorious pay day once again. God knows what I'd do, or where I'd be, if that little bundle of notes wasn't thrust upon me once a week in the usual manner.
Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.
--==--
Marita rings at about 7 and says she's bored and gives me the usual stories about how sickened off she is lately, &c. I immediately leap to her rescue by saying 'we really ought to go out for a few drinks' or words to that effect. She agrees. Picking me up at 8 we go down to the Fox at Menston. I vowed never to darken the doorstep of that hostelry again following an incident therein the other week involving Helen and Miss Dibb. However, Marita likes it, so who cares? She informs me, whilst slumped over her tonic water, that Our Lady of Bramhope is no longer a spoken for person. My heart leaps at the thought of darling Denise being once again in our midst and tears of joy fell into my ale at Marita's tale of cruelty and misery. Ade, for all his good points, dealt irreparable blows to dearest Denise, and for that alone he deserves all the evils that will surely come to him.
--==--
Wednesday March 12, 1975
I don't want to write anything today really other that to say how happy I am that you are fit and well, and living up to life's little tests in the manner which I am sure would make any Englishman proud. Goodbye.
I know it's cheating doing this, but it isn't March 12 at all in this paragraph, if you know what I mean. The first bit about me not bothering to write anything was March 12, but as sure as Donny Osmond is Donny Osmond this paragraph isn't March 12.
-==-
I know it's cheating doing this, but it isn't March 12 at all in this paragraph, if you know what I mean. The first bit about me not bothering to write anything was March 12, but as sure as Donny Osmond is Donny Osmond this paragraph isn't March 12.
-==-
20100207
Tuesday March 11, 1975
It's even more noisy in the bloody office today. Kathleen had headphones on all day.
Read an interesting article in the recent News of the World re Lord Snowdon and Lady Jacqueline Rufus Isaacs. It says that Lady Jackie, the daughter of Lord Reading, was "very much in love" with Lord Snowdon, and that the affair had started in 1969 when the couple sat at the same table in a West End club. Evidently, his Lordship visited Lady Jackie's flat two or three times a week under the pretext of calling on her brother, Viscount Erleigh,and they managed to see each other frequently in 1970 without more than a handful of people knowing. When the story was grabbed by the Press in 1971 the affair had to cease. It says Lord Snowdon never visited the Reading family home again, and Princess Margaret ignores Lady Jackie when they occasionally meet at parties.
The beloved Prime Minister is 59 years old today. He celebrates at Dublin Castle where the EEC talks are going on, and never again will I say nasty things about him because he's done so much for the Queen's pay rises and the Civil List. He's a decent old sport really, and I don't suppose it's his fault that he was born with all these confused ideas about politics. Someone really should discover an antedote for socialism, because when that day comes Harold Wilson will require a sizeable injection.
-==-
Read an interesting article in the recent News of the World re Lord Snowdon and Lady Jacqueline Rufus Isaacs. It says that Lady Jackie, the daughter of Lord Reading, was "very much in love" with Lord Snowdon, and that the affair had started in 1969 when the couple sat at the same table in a West End club. Evidently, his Lordship visited Lady Jackie's flat two or three times a week under the pretext of calling on her brother, Viscount Erleigh,and they managed to see each other frequently in 1970 without more than a handful of people knowing. When the story was grabbed by the Press in 1971 the affair had to cease. It says Lord Snowdon never visited the Reading family home again, and Princess Margaret ignores Lady Jackie when they occasionally meet at parties.
The beloved Prime Minister is 59 years old today. He celebrates at Dublin Castle where the EEC talks are going on, and never again will I say nasty things about him because he's done so much for the Queen's pay rises and the Civil List. He's a decent old sport really, and I don't suppose it's his fault that he was born with all these confused ideas about politics. Someone really should discover an antedote for socialism, because when that day comes Harold Wilson will require a sizeable injection.
-==-
Monday March 10, 1975
A filthy day. Rains non stop and to make matters worse I had to go up to the Merrion Centre with Mum's Mother's Day present and swap it for one more in keeping with her size.
The noise in the YP building is becoming much worse, and our nerves are on edge and cracking up. Sarah looked pale all day & Eileen is still under the influence of flu. A sad state of affairs indeed. Nothing in the news other than the grim details of the Lesley Whittle murder. The Prince of Wales has returned to the (HMS) Hermes for a further 6 months at sea, and the little, cherubic Prince Edward is eleven years old today. Revolting Denis Healey is to open his tatty Budget box for all to see on April 15, and Alison Dixon's dog, Frisky, passed away into the great unknown over the weekend. It's amazing what one can dig up by way of news when one tries hard enought.
Home for tea at 5.15. Mess about in the lounge for an hour or so afterwards, and decide that my hair needs washing. (You all wanted to know that). Tonight is the final episode in the 'Likely Lads' series. It will be the end of a fantastic set of programmes.
-==-
Sunday March 9, 1975
4th Sunday in Lent. Reflections: Chris was a bit grotty to begin with last night, which is quite understandable, but he pulled round later on. Christine broke the news to him yesterday lunchtime, but he realised what the intention of her calling was before the fateful words had escaped her venomous lips. How long will she last with Gary? Is my love for her a remnant of those Halcyon days and hot Indian summer nights at Benton Park Grammar School? Yes, I think it might be.
Up at 12.30 to be told by Mummy that her Mother's Day present is about 15 sizes too small. Susan and Peter are to blame, and they receive the full weight of my wrath when we assemble after lunch. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for lunch and see the edited version of the Royal visit to Mexico on TV afterwards.
Lynn and Dave come over he settles down to fiddle with his car on the drive. Last night I realised what a jealous person Mr Baker really is. In the seating arrangements at Wheels Lynn was placed between Dave and Chris. After chatting with Chris for a while Dave was seen to drain of all colour and become very abrupt. Things improved later, but it just goes to show how many types of people it takes to make a world.
Helen Lockyer rings up later to see if I'm going out. I say I'll ring her back later but I know what the answer will be. Yes.
Ring Chris after tea but he's still in mourning for Christine and doesn't feel like going out anywhere. Dave B and Peter stayed for tea, and we had quite a laugh really.
To the Hare and Hounds with John and Naomi. Christine comes with Gary and they're all over each other at the bar. Helen comes in at 8.30 and the two of us stand at the bar for a couple of hours. Back to her place at see the last 35 minutes of an Edward G. Robinson film. Home in her car at midnight.
-==-
Up at 12.30 to be told by Mummy that her Mother's Day present is about 15 sizes too small. Susan and Peter are to blame, and they receive the full weight of my wrath when we assemble after lunch. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding for lunch and see the edited version of the Royal visit to Mexico on TV afterwards.
Lynn and Dave come over he settles down to fiddle with his car on the drive. Last night I realised what a jealous person Mr Baker really is. In the seating arrangements at Wheels Lynn was placed between Dave and Chris. After chatting with Chris for a while Dave was seen to drain of all colour and become very abrupt. Things improved later, but it just goes to show how many types of people it takes to make a world.
Helen Lockyer rings up later to see if I'm going out. I say I'll ring her back later but I know what the answer will be. Yes.
Ring Chris after tea but he's still in mourning for Christine and doesn't feel like going out anywhere. Dave B and Peter stayed for tea, and we had quite a laugh really.
To the Hare and Hounds with John and Naomi. Christine comes with Gary and they're all over each other at the bar. Helen comes in at 8.30 and the two of us stand at the bar for a couple of hours. Back to her place at see the last 35 minutes of an Edward G. Robinson film. Home in her car at midnight.
-==-
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