Friday August 15, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

'Princess Michael of Kent' by Peter Lane arrived from our book club. Interesting that the book has no photographs of the Princess prior to her engagement in May 1978. A few painful errors too. A chapter on the 'House of Kent' reveals that Prince Alfred, second son of Queen Victoria, became Duke of Kent in 1866, and went on at length to discuss Alfie's life and times. Prince Alfred was in fact Duke of Edinburgh and EARL of Kent, and later succeeded as Duke of Saxe-Coburg & Gotha on the cessation of the then Prince of Wales. Sloppy writing makes my blood boil.

-=-

Thursday August 14, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, &c

A letter arrived from the brewery saying our Wellington Inn application has been cancelled. A postcard from Lynn in Gourock. Samuel went to the nursery for an hour 2-3. Exhaustion and lethargy. Bessie phoned.

(My sister and her husband David were temporarily living in Scotland to test the waters and see if they could actually go live there with David's work)

-=-

Wednesday August 13, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Quiet and wet. The White Rose Choir came in with a Teddy for Clementine which we have christened Elvis because he has a button and when pressed it sings 'Love Me Tender', a melodious old tune much warbled by that old thigh shaker, the late Mr Presley. Clemmie weighs 9lb 14 oz.

Graham and ? (unknown) came from the Raynville for an hour with a couple from Farsley Working Mens' Club who are fancying taking on the Yorkshire Cobble at Redcar. 

Sandra Woodcock (nee Collett) had her portrait sketched by Mick (who signs 'Mik') from Tempest Rd. Another superb likeness.

-=-

Tuesday August 12, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

An evening of collapse. Ally watched 'The Thorn Birds', a terribly long, drawn out and far-fetched tale. I wrote a long, boring letter to Lynn. My powers have gone. My fluency is waning.

-=-

Monday August 11, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, LS11 5NQ

We were interviewed by Leslie Gledhill for the Wellington Inn at Knaresborough, but we switched our choice of pubs on arrival to the Menston Arms - which he expected us to do. We took Clemmie with us leaving Samuel at Guiseley.

-=-

Sunday August 10, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds, &c

11th Sunday after Trinity

Post wedding blues.

Saturday August 9, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

My cousin Jacqueline married Barry Raistrick at Cleckheaton. A good bash. It was Jacqueline's 30th birthday.

Friday August 8, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Received a circular from the brewery re the Menston Arms!! But we are seeing LG on Monday re the Wellington, Knaresborough. Sod it.

Thursday August 7, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

The pool team were at home. We won. Uncle Peter says Eleanor was taken aback and rendered speechless when I phoned about the wedding arrangements because she had no idea I had been invited  to the nuptial shindig. It was, he said, something that Jacqueline had decided to do on the quiet. Jacqueline of course attended our wedding ________. Peter says none of the wicked uncles will be there on Saturday. Phew. Spoke to Dad. ______.

-=-

Wednesday August 6, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Clemmie weighs 9lb 6oz. Ally had her up Beeston Hill this afternoon and naked on the scales. Samuel refused to do likewise. He must be growing shy and sensitive like his father. I have never been one to bare all in a public place. Public toilets, swimming baths, changing rooms, &c - they have always revolted me. Ones genitals are ones own affair. If only others less stoic than myself could behave similarly the world will be a far healthier dwelling place. Beverley worked. I phoned Auntie Eleanor re Jacqueline and Barry's wedding, and she was a brick. We can take the children by all means but decide just to take Clementine. Eleanor sounded so much like Mama on the phone.

-=-

Tuesday August 5, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

New Moon

An artist came in the pub tonight touting for business and did me in ink. A good likeness. I 'm recognisable. Samuel saw it and gasped: "Ah, Daddy". So it can't be bad. I gave the artist £4. No Peter Paul Rubens by any means. Stuck tonight. Liz cried off sick and at 9 I went across for Audrey to assist. It was busy later on. Little Clementine came below for ten minutes to meet the customers and slept throughout. Ally didn't want the baby stinking of cigarette fumes and stale ale.

-=-