Sunday February 9, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas S021 1AS

Quinquagesima

New Moon

Very cold. We went after breakfast to Coleford in Frank's disappointing new vehicle. The Merc has been replaced by one of those clones. Very sad. We couldn't understand Frank's driving. He went all over Gloucestershire and Wales to get to Graham's. Poor Ally was green in the back of the car. She's a rotten passenger. Needless to say, Samuel and I slumbered. At Graham's it was the usual Fred Karno's Circus. All the children in a heap on top of the dog. We had soup and sandwiches and went out with a sledge. Yes, all dressed like Scott's Expedition 1912. Or was it 1911? The Titanic was 1912. We left at 5. Graham was grumpy because he wanted to go to the pub. We got back for 7pm. Watched "Spitting Images". Bed after a vast Edwardian-style supper.

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Saturday February 8, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

The Old Vine.

We went out to Winchester leaving Samuel with granny. We sat in a pub for a few hours (the Vine?), just watching people. Ally in her raincoat and 'Queen Mum' felt hat. Very county. She ate a giant baked potato covered in chilli whilst I looked on with a pint of Stella Artois. We looked at the shops and browsed. 

The Daily Telegraph has me even more agog re Sarah Ferguson. Major Hugh Lindsay, personal equerry to HM, has been despatched to Switzerland to protect poor Miss Ferguson from the Press. It really must be on. I would really like to spend an hour with my Burke's Peerage. I do miss my 'bible'. In future my reference books will have to accompany me on tours. I cannot accept that Major Ron Ferguson is a FIRST cousin of Princess Alice, but we shall see. 

Tonight we went out. To Chandler's Ford and to a new pub, all Laura Ashley and pine. It won't last. Then to the Otter at Otterbourne, and the funny old Percy Hobbs. Home late. Ally wants to go to Graham's tomorrow.

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Friday February 7, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas S021 1AS

The good old Daily Telegraph has put me out of my misery and has reported on Sarah Ferguson's lineage. She descends from Charles II through the Dukes of Buccleuch. Major Ferguson is a cousin of Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester, who is a daughter of the 7th Duke of Buccleuch, and so Sarah is a second cousin of the Duke of Gloucester. Impeccable. I am very happy now. The fact that the DT is speculating is a good sign that something is in the air. Miss Ferguson shares a flat in Clapham Junction with one of the Princess of Wales's ladies in waiting. All this could be a red herring. Sarah might just be a friend of the princess and isn't interested in Andrew at all. The DT says the romance has been going on for 8 months, and Sarah spends days on end at Kensington Palace. Major Ferguson recently remarried and has a baby daughter who was christened last week with the Waleses in attendance. Sarah's mother is Mrs Hector Barrantes. I really didn't like not knowing.

We took to our beds this evening with our books at a luxurious hour and lay in a heap of idleness. In the morning we had ventured into a frosty Alresford with Bessie, where I bought 'George VI' by John Wheeler-Bennett for £3. It was published in 1958 and is in good nick.

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Thursday February 6, 1986

 Chillandham Cross, Itchen Abbas SO21 1AS

Chillandham Cross.

Samuel had a bad night. Well, a broken night, and I was up with him every hour or so. Downstairs at 3am for orange juice. Ally got up with Samuel at 7am and she brought me my breakfast in bed at 9. Porridge and bacon sandwiches. I could hardly swallow it down worrying about I would have to pay for this lapse into old style luxury later. But to be honest I d not like eating in bed. The crumbs get everywhere. Snow had fallen in the night. Bitterly cold. The three of us walked down Chilland Lane and over the river to Easton and then back here over the fields. Samuel walked all the way toddling through the snow covered fields. After lunch we went into Winchester and to the library where I looked at Debrett's Handbook 1984 for a reference to Major Ron Ferguson. In what way is he descended from the Stuart Kings? No sign of him in the good book. Sod it. Later, on the BBC news, we saw Miss Ferguson with the Prince and Princess of Wales at Klosters further firing speculation that a royal engagement is imminent. Prince Andrew, de facto Duke of York, goes on NATO exercises this week and so he wasn't in the skiing party. A night around the fire. Read "I, Claudius" which I've wanted to read for years. Robert Graves snuffed it recently. "Blackadder" on the TV.

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Wednesday February 5, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

The stock taker Crump came and we had a £20 surplus, that was after we took out the £90 that Ally put in the safe last night. Last weeks sheets were over-banked. Silly Ally. We waited for the Kennedys to come until almost 12. They are the young couple who were with Roy & Marie in Middlesbrough 7 months ago. We went off down the M1 and met patches of snow on the way. We stopped at a motorway café and had steak and kidney pies. It cost a small fortune. A tiny slice of lemon meringue pie cost 75p!

Bad news for dukes. Read in the Daily Telegraph that the Duke of Norfolk, 70, and the Duke of Northumberland, 71, have both had heart attacks. 

Sammy and I slept in the back of the car. To Chillandham Cross for 4:30. All well. log fires. Turkey casserole. Comfy chairs. Snoozes. To bed at 10:30. It is touching how Samuel takes to his granny and grandad Dixon considering how rarely he sees them. Ally thinks he gets 'clever' and shows off, but I don't know. Saw S. Ferguson on the telly.

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Tuesday February 4, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

This may be historic, but Prince Andrew's so-called flame, Sarah Ferguson, was mentioned in a news bulletin today. I wish I knew more of her antecedents. She is 26. Watch this space. HM The Q lunched on Andrew's ship in the pool of London today. The Princess of Wales is taking Prince William to HMS Brazen tomorrow.

Ally had one of her hunches and went to Club Street with Samuel and found a note pushed through the door from Sister Greenwood, her midwife, telling her she has a water infection and needs antibiotics. Ally went to see Dr York at 5. I went upstairs to listen to music at full throttle and I cleaned the deep fat fryers. Both Lynn and Sue phoned to wish us bon voyage. Susan has bought some patio doors for her dining room and Peter is now broke. Ally came back worn out but insisted on cleaning and packing, &c. I cannot wait to be away on holiday. Maureen worked. The place was like a mausoleum. I watched "I, Claudius". I cleaned the beer lines, bottled up and pottered around until 1am. We sat in bed and breathed a sigh of relief. Oh yes, I phoned Dad and he seemed a bit low.

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Monday February 3, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Phoned Ken Gilbertson at the brewery who told me we are having a couple here (relief managers) Mr & Mrs Kennedy, from Blyth, Northumberland. Later, Ally phoned them to discuss the catering whilst we are away. Ally also went to see Maureen about the Procter & Gamble cleaning gear, but  M isn't impressed. Maureen sprays 'Pledge' around as though she's addicted to it. Audrey came in cursing Chris. They were both supposed to work together yesterday afternoon but he didn't come in until 1pm, when he sauntered in with a bar of chocolate. His performance was poor and he left with an auntie before 2:30. He's totally useless, she says. However, Audrey tends to exaggerate. _______. Chris will have to be told. Life in the Moorhouse Inn is very much like ancient Rome.  Margaret worked tonight. She had a few problems last night with Jim Stone and Mick Marsh, who came in pissed up and looked like trouble. She refused them drink and off they went. They both returned today with their tails between their legs.

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Sunday February 2, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Sexagesima

Waltergarth, Horton-in-Ribblesdale

To Horton early and got to Dad's for 10:30 or so. Bless him, he had roasted a joint of beef and was mixing cheese sauce. The table was set, napkins etc, for lunch. I am always overcome by the feeling of the place. Mum is everywhere. Neighbour Frances came in for a chat. It was bitterly cold. Dad went out to 'attack' Charlie about a hideous erection he has placed on Dad's land without permission. He was furious. We ate at 12 and then Samuel went for a nap in Dad's bed. Photographs of us all hang everywhere. Ally and I drove out to the Cross Streets Inn, which was closed and then to the Gamecock at Austwick. Very homely. Dad and Mum were frequent visitors. On to the Helwith Bridge - quite busy with a warm atmosphere, though the owner is a tatty individual. Back to Dad's for 2. We sat around the fire until 10:30pm. Sam was very good and went back to Dad's bed at 7. Home to the pub for 12. 

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Saturday February 1, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

A day of industry. Ally made a corned beef hash and floated chunks of pickled beetroot on her plate. A real Lancashire thing to do. Down in the cellar at 3:30 to play with the cleaning materials. Made a pack of bleach, detergents  and Brasso for Dad. He will appreciate this. Chris worked tonight and at 11:30 he went away with carry-out jugs of bitter to the value of £17 to attend a wild 21st birthday party. I reminded the boy that he is down for working tomorrow and he promised not to let me down. 

Baby names: Undecided between William and George.

Boys: William, George, Joshua, Aaron, Jacob, Edward, Tobias, Oliver

Girls: Clementine, Alice, Nora, Lucy, Mary, Eliza, Sophie, Levinyer, Amelia.

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Friday January 31, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Marita is 31. I sent her a birthday card picturing football boots and a pint of beer. This afternoon we went out 'en famille' to the YEB to pay for our new space-age vacuum cleaner. We pottered around the shops but were nithered with cold. Blue extremities, &c. W.H. Smith's, Boots, the building society, Greenhead's, Mothercare, &c. Samuel, in his yellow suit, raised a few smiles toddling through the Bond Street Centre. He sat in one of those small trains wherein one inserts 10p, but he was forced out after one go by a mob of ______ hooligans. I love book shops, but Samuel prevents any serious browsing. The letters of Ann Fleming look like a good publication. Published letters and diaries are really my scene. Ann Fleming is of course a Charteris, sister of Laura Duchess of Marlborough, and a former wife of  the late Viscount Rothermere, and then widow of Ian Fleming. 

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Thursday January 30, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

Cold, but no more snow. My bloody driving test. Went out with Ally this morning. Silly really as I've been a capable driver for years. We went to Harehills where to my horror and dismay I am told that the test has been cancelled due to the bad road conditions. What a let down. Totally deflated. I suppose I should have phoned. My test is now postponed until July

We went on to Linfood and Club Street (see yesterday's entry).

We returned to the Moorhouse at 11:30pm Samuel, wide-eyed, wrapped in a tartan rug. 

How is this for a disgusting complement? "I'd use her shit for toothpaste". I heard a customer say this in the back bar while looking at the TV personality Anneka Rice. He then took a sip of his ale and said: "I'd let her shite on my chest just to see the flaps of her arse working." Nice.

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