Wednesday July 24, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Oxton Hall: tatty.

Full-English breakfast. Sue phoned to say that Pamela (nee Nason), gave birth to a son, James, at midnight, a natural birth. Her last confinement was a Caesarean. They come in threes. Janette and Jill will be next. Dad is so withdrawn. He has had all the stuffing knocked out of his sails. (Sails have stuffing? --Ed). At 11:15 Ally and I went to Tadcaster to Humphrey and Julia Smith's wedding party, leaving Sam with Dad. We found Oxton Hall with ease. Spoke to Jim Ellis. The Ferris couple joined us on the lawn at the vast, yet tatty Georgian erection. A very grand garden though. I do not like Mrs Ferris. She's very affected. The couple from the Old Red Lion made a bee-line for us. He was wearing a very large velvet bow tie. Saw Roy and Marie. Big kisses. In to a very large tent for lunch. Smoked salmon, strawberries, &c. We sat between the Ellises and Sue and Thingy from the General Elliot. She is very pleasant in the early stages of a second pregnancy. Ally and must stop this idling and get one with it. Copulation does require time though, and we are always so very busy. Humphrey and Julia were at the top table of course. Julia very tall and dark and dressed in Laura Ashley. Like my ex sister-in-law, Maria. Humphrey's mother, old Mrs Geoffrey Smith,  was in lime green stockings and a green striped dress. It was a very sticky, hot afternoon. Lunch over we retreated to the bar. All freebies. Disgusting gluttony. We sat with Roy and Marie and a couple of peroxide tenants. Pissed up, we went in a small party to the Bay Horse in Tadcaster. Many gin and tonics. Card tricks. White rabbits, &c. I do love Marie Barnes. She says Mags is pregnant and planning a marital alliance. Came home via the Clarendon Wing to see Janette. I was over emotional in the car and blame the gin. George and Jayne Waite came. John too. All back to the Moorhouse where we sat in the lounge. We debated Arthur Scargill, Wales, and the Liberal party. Dad and I enjoy political discussion, but the youth of today tend to treat politics with contempt. Bed late. Oh, my head.

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Tuesday July 23, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Sunny. Quiet afternoon. Who should call in but Martyn Cole. He is a car salesman or computer programmer. He was very nice, and Ally came down to see him. He has three children to Fay - Anna, Jonathan and Judith, all similar in ages to Lynn's. A congenial few hours. He is the Martyn of old. Ally went to Laura Ashley at 3 to buy a dress for tomorrow, and came back with a pair of odd shoes which didn't match. One white and one cream. I took Sam to the park for an hour. Dad came to see us at 4 looking lost. We had a few drinks in the bar this evening but it was suffocating. Mother's presence is so missed. Dad didn't overdo the drinking. Lynn must have been giving him the hard word.

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Monday July 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

_____. The Sovereign keg bitter ran dry and so Ally and I took Sam to the Old Red Lion on Meadow Lane (backs to the wall) to borrow an 18 gallon keg from Michael Rainforth (?), the Max Wall-look-alike landlord. A Larry Grayson clone was in the bar breathing all over the glassware. We escaped as soon as was decently possible. I am cruel. The landlord was helpful but I couldn't help squirming.

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Sunday July 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

7th Sunday after Trinity

Sue is 26. We went to Guiseley for a barbecue luncheon. Blustery. Went with John to Menston to collect some home brewed barley wine which proved fatal. Dad seems to have aged and seemed quite lost. Sue was very reflective and talked of her last birthday with Mum. The children all played so well together. Back to the Moorhouse for 5pm. Sam was put to bed. Hilda came at 7, late. We sped to the Fox & Hounds and found Dad, Sue, Pete, Lynn and Dave ordering. A good dinner spoiled by Lynn who who told us she fell out with Dad this afternoon when he arrived at their placed from Susan's pissed and "blubbering." He has every right to 'blubber', surely? The hideous manageress at the Fox refused to take a cheque for £80. To the White Cross all over-intoxicated. Back at 12. Hilda and Tony speak such sense. Dad will manage, but it is early days.

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Saturday July 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Ally was done in all day because of our late night. She says she wished our relations could only realise that we need sleep and go home at a decent hour. I should, she says, throw them out earlier. At  3:30, feeling decidedly weak, I went out with Samuel to Grandways and bought fish in sauce in plastic bags which seems to be our regular Saturday nosh these days.

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Friday July 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Tried to phone Janette all day without success. Spoke to her at 2pm. She has been abed and was waiting for John to return at 3 and then he would take her to Leeds. Later she phoned to say a midwife was with her and she is going to the Clarendon Wing by ambulance. Things seem to be coming to a head.

Dad has arrived home. He phoned. As he prophesised the Welsh leave a lot be desired. John called in at 8 after visiting Janette, who is now on a glucose drip. Hilda, Tony, Jill and Tim came in, and all made merry. June brought in a Brussels sprout pie. Very busy. Ally worked with Margaret M. I did nothing. They all stayed until after 1am. __________.

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Thursday July 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Dull, overcast, &c. Samuel fell out of bed with a bump in the middle of the night and Ally rescued him. This morning he ran in, like Steve Cram, clutching his blue elephant. By 9:30 all our little jobs were done and Sam and I walked up Dewsbury Rd. It's Pancrack Day. I saw most of our customers queuing at the post office. We bought chocolate buttons and ate them on the way back. Janette phoned to say she might be in the early stages of labour. Ally ordered her to go immediately to the Clarendon Wing but when I phoned John at 8 Janette answered and reported that she was calmly watching 'Top of the Pops'. Ally was livid. Sue is feeling better. A 'flu bug. Margaret is looking after the Nason 'terrorists'. Dad has phoned Janette and has decided to venture homeward tomorrow to be around for the birth. I am looking forward to seeing him.

Pancrack: This phrase is slang for being on the dole or in receipt of social security benefits. It is believed that "on the pan crack" originates from the coal mining areas of Yorkshire. 

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Wednesday July 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Day off. Dawn chorus, &c. We went out at 9 to pay MM £62 for Samuel's mattress. They were having a day off and so we spoke to MM's Dad. A pleasant man. We went to Guiseley to take flowers to the cemetery. We haven't taken flowers since the funeral. It was awful. Desolate. Dead flowers on the grave from Dad's last visit. Samuel was interested with desecrating a neighbouring grave with marble chippings. To Sue's. We found Margaret N looking after the children and Susan was in bed  looking bright, but running a temperature and feeling weak and wobbly. She complained that she hadn't seen a doctor and so Ally phoned the surgery and ordered him to attend. She may just have a chill, but coming so soon after recent gynaecological problems Ally felt a doctor was required. We went on to Bradford before the doctor appeared to see David Gaunt at Appleyard's. We agreed to buy the Maestro for £3,995, and they are going to take Mandy Metro in part exchange for £1,800. We can accept delivery of the vehicle next Thursday. Chuffed. On to Club St. We took Sam for a walk in the park but he fought the idea of sleeping. I had fish and chips and Ally went for her hair doing. 'Mad' Norman has been in our garden tearing up the flowers. We have a new neighbour called Gladys. Phoned Susie. The doctor says she has a touch of 'flu and has been ordered to stay in bed for a few days. To Bradford. Bought Susan a vase for her birthday. Heavy rain. ______. Ally mislaid her Barclaycard and so we re-traced our steps to Appleyard's and found it in the possession of Mr Gaunt. Town was busy and the traffic hideous. Samuel squealed on the way home. Evening off. Ally set fire to the top kitchen burning mince. Booby Ewing died in 'Dallas'.

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Tuesday July 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We had a rough passage through the hours of darkness with Samuel who kept us awake until dawn. Ally ended up sleeping with him in his room. At 7:15 Sam and I had boiled eggs whilst Ally slept for another hour. Breakfast TV: President Reagan was operated on for a cancerous polyp on Saturday but stands a fifty per cent chance of making a full recovery they say. However, if I was George Bush I'd start packing my bags. 

Ally went off Maestro-watching at 1pm leaving me. Sam in his bed, and I with cook in the kitchen. A quiet lunch really. I have borrowed a crate of barley wine from the Station pub. Tim is on holiday from there and a slovenly relief manager was propping up the bar.

Maureen was sobbing into her mop bucket this morning. Carol and Sam have split it seems and he has run home to his mum and Carol has landed at the McNicol residence with baby Teresa. Such a pity. People seem to give up so easily. Marriage has to be fought for and worked at. Some people do not realise this is the case.

John and Janette met Ally on (illegible) Canal Rd and looked at an A registered Maesto. £3,900. One or two bruises but they'll be fixed on purchase. John seemed happy. I saw the car at 4:15, but you know me. A car is a car. Engines leave me cold. I cannot tell a spark plug from a contraceptive. 

Ally tired and washed out again. Very pale. Janet worked. Very quiet. Ally remained upstairs.

Jack Collett told me that on June 10 this year he celebrated 20 years as a bigamist.

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Monday July 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Phoned Donna Lea early to discuss the missing diet pils but she was in the middle of a choking fit and not giving me her undivided attention. She did say that they are 'looking into it' at their end. She asked me whether I went down into the cellar with the 'two Ronnies' on June 13. I told her that our car had just been pranged outside on Admiral St and that sadly I hadn't. 

The Moorhouse Inn.

We have a postcard from Papa in Tenby. I do miss him. He seems to have been away for ages. Sue phoned. We are going (to Guiseley) on Sunday night to celebrate her 26th (birthday). Later, Ally took Samuel to Guiseley and he came back looking like a coalface worker. I think Christopher is a bit of a tease. Ally called in at Albert Farnell's garage in Guiseley re the purchase of a Maestro. Nothing doing. She also called at Appleyard's on Manningham Lane and saw a car. _______. Phoned Hilda and asked her to (baby)sit for Samuel on Sunday. She seemed very pleased to be of some use. 

Tonight I drank a few diet pils with Jack Collett. In the lounge bar Harold Wilkinson was celebrating his 74th birthday and June had baked a large, sticky blue and silver cake. Pleasant evening. Ally washed out. Bed. Read Henry VIII.

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Sunday July 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

6th Sunday after Trinity

The Maestro.

We overslept. Ally wanted to go to Linfood, but we were too late. Margaret returned from Blackpool. It was a quiet lunch. This afternoon we went out to look at Maestro cars. We nipped out at 4pm yesterday too to do likewise, but forgot to mention it. Car salesmen? Aren't they the lowest form of life? Something from the primeval swamp. We cannot be conned. They must think we look stupid. Today however we did look almost like Romany types. Ally with her T-shirt hanging out. Very Sir Robert Geldof GCVO, PC, in fact. Samuel was a handful to say the least and he kicked and screamed on garage forecourts and I had difficulty looking at any of the vehicles. Ally knows what she is doing. Frank will have to be consulted re a loan.

Roast beef at 5pm. Ally cried watching a slushy film about ice-skaters who fall in love. 

A very busy last hour in the bars tonight. Me and Gary. Ally upstairs. Ran out of OBB at 10pm. This also occurred on June 30. Dear me, what a hopeless manager I am.

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