Tuesday March 10, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Dad came at 2. I was in the cellar and he walked down with a pint of lager. Then upstairs for an hour where Clemmie wept at the sight of her long-lost grandpapa. She is so soft and only ever has a smile for Ally and I. I do not remember Sam being so timid. At 6 Ally and I went to Drighlington. Very impressed by the Valley Inn which has a lot of scope and is "our sort" of place I'm sure. Cosy corners, and cosy open fires, &c. We had four or five drinks before I had the opportunity to approach the tennant who proceeded to go green and splutter obviously unaware that LG had put us onto the scent. We Sam Smith employees are very sensitive people. We can smell rats from great distances. We spotted a couple on Saturday who were obviously Sam Smith recruits sussing us out. It made us uncomfortable. We left Drighlington at 8. Drank with Dad and went to the Chinese take-away.

The seventh Lord Ventry, the engaging "lighter than air" Irish peer who has died aged 88, was a certified 'aeronaut', a balloonist, and an inveterate champion of the airship. In 1949 he began work om the Bournemouth, the first airship to be built in Britain since the ill-fated R-101 crashed in 1930. The sausage-shaped dirigible, with an envelope 108 ft long and a capacity of 45,000 cubic feet, was all set to make its maiden flight at Cardington, Beds, in July 1951 ....

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Monday March 9, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

Stocktake. Mr. Crump came. What a Dickensian name, eh? Very sensible. He gave us a £58 surplus. I planned this eventuality. Dad is slowly driving us insane. It was planned that he would come here tomorrow so enabling us to go minus children to the Pig & Whistle again, but he has taken in some dreadful walkers at Waltergarth, and has now asked to be excused. He is going to come late tomorrow so that we can go to Drighlington and inspect the Valley Inn which LG has mentioned. I do have the impression that father's nearest and dearest are fading in his affections somewhat. He doesn't seem to find any pleasure in the fact that we may be venturing forth on life's pot-holed highway.

-=-

Sunday March 8, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

1st Sunday in Lent

David Andrew Baker is 31. Aunty Mabel is 68. The two Margarets opened up and we went to Auntie Mabel's where we were joined by Auntie Hilda. I was reprimanded by H. We haven't seen her since John and Janette's wedding last September. The Gadsbys have just had a new fitted kitchen at Wilsby, but H isn't enthusiastic. They say Clemmie resembles Frank and that Sam is a Wilson. A Wilson! He is the image of his Dixon mother. On to MM and Marita's at 3. They are having a lunch party for old friends David and Fay - garlic was wafting everywhere. Large gin and tonics and two hours later we left at 5. Ally very pissed on g & t's she took to her bed and collapsed until 8, leaving me and Samuel with a chicken and Yorkshire puddings. Ally came down to the bar groggy at 8:30. Just the two us worked.

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Friday March 6, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

Stricken: Herald of Free Enterprise.

"Our" Lynn is 29 today. She phoned at breakfast time to say thank you for the cards but when Ally asked whether she liked her birthday present which we left with her in January [table mats from County Durham] she went very quiet and had quite forgotten to open the parcel. She told us that Jacq is pregnant and due on September 6.

This evening a terrible tragedy occurred. A Channel ferry from Zeebrugge, Belgium, sank minutes after sailing with the loss of life of almost 200 Britons. Watched newsflashes at one and 2 in the morning and went to bed very morose. What a ghastly way to go.

Viscount Brookeborough has died aged 64. 

Viscount Morpeth, who resigned his commission in protest at the Government's defence policy, wants to become a Liberal MP, it was revealed yesterday.

-=-

Thursday March 5, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ

One of those awful days when I was keyed up and ready to have a heart attack. We played the Fisherman's Hut pool team, from Pool in Wharfedale, in the competition here, and during the evening when I was in the bar with no staff an old boy - a friend of Joe House - collapsed in the porch and the Fisherman's Hut landlord called for an ambulance and sat with him and his two companions until the emergency services arrived. Then he, the Fisherman's Hut guy, launched a vicious attack upon me saying how disgusted he was that I that continued 'pulling ale' whilst an OAP lay bereft in my foyer. When I tried to reason with him he argued that a normal publican would have switched off his beer pumps and given first aid to the victim instead of taking money and 'turning a blind eye'. I was livid, like a wounded beast. I hadn't even been party to this pathetic scene, the porch being out behind closed doors away from the active body of the pub. Sod them all.

Dinda Fermor-Hesketh [nee Hunt] wife of John Fermor-Hesketh, gave birth to a daughter, Alice Mary Louisa, on March 5.

Wednesday March 4, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

Before I go any further I must say I have just been watching Channel 4 (midnight) and the Bishop of London [Graham Ellison] talking such sense about his opposition to the ordination of women. He really should be translated to Canterbury instead of that namby pamby [Robert] Runcie. In the words of 'Private Eye' - "why ordain women when we have Robert Runcie?" Have you noticed that women with leanings towards ordination are always 'butch'? Short cropped hair, no make-up, deep, husky voices, &c? However, I am not a practicing member of the Church of England and perhaps should keep my mouth shut.

(Sorry, the Bishop of London is Graham Leonard. Ellison was his predecessor).

Samuel went to his school at Roundhay for the morning. He calls it 'the school with the bell' because it has an old fashioned bell tower. LG came here. He immediately calmed me re his letter of last Friday saying I have got the stick by the wrong end and that he meant no offence. We told him we had visited Whitby and Scunthorpe he jumped in and said he wasn't 'rushing us' and wants us to consider carefully, &c. "Will Scuntehorpe be different to Leeds?" &c. He was very jovial and honest. He is always at loggerheads with Ally and is forever having to say: "Ah, but you have a brain which is a rare thing among Sam Smith managers". &c.

Lord Londesborough has married one Rikki Morris.

Lady Muir-Mackenzie gave birth to a daughter on Sunday.

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Tuesday March 3, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

Joan Greenwood.

Joan Greenwood, the husky voiced English actress celebrated for her performances in such films as "Kind Hearts and Coronets", "The Importance of Being Earnest", and "Tom Jones", has died a few days short of her 66th birthday. She was found dead, having apparently suffered a heart attack, in her London home at the weekend.

Prince Philip, 65, has undergone a hernia operation at King Edward VII's Hospital for Officers in Marylebone. He was in hospital for 24 hours and discharged on Saturday.

-=-

Monday March 2, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

Pig & Whistle.

Sunshine, but windy. To Scunthorpe after breakfast to the Pig and Whistle. We were very impressed. Like the Butcher's in Pudsey to look at, and in the market place, but with some daunting rough-looking flats hovering on the horizon. The couple there showed us the upstairs, and excellent flat and the lounge is 'us', you know Victorian flower pots and gilt framed portraits. The place had no tap room and in a very good position for lunchtime customers, who all seemed 'normal'. Lots of business types coming in for food. We sat outside because they did not approve of children, and ate fish and chips (again). Samuel is a fish and chips maniac and he sat in the driving seat peering above the wheel. From Scunthorpe, which is a much better place than I imagined, we went to Barton-upon-Humber, passing Normanby Park, home of the Sheffield baronets, of whom the pouting Davina is an off-shoot. (See journal 1976/77). She is now Mrs Jake Morley, but was almost Princess des Galles. Anyway, we passed over that fine erection, the Humber Bridge, to Howden in search of Jean and David (Watts), but failed to pin-point the actual street. We drove around like idiots after phoning and having no answer. Back at the Moorhouse we enthused abut the Pig & Whistle. 

-=-

Sunday March 1, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

St David's Day

Quinquagesima

Pouring rain. Dismal. We got to Whitby for 12 and immediately felt disappointed by the so-called Jolly Sailors. Mediocre Sailors, more like. The manager was very unhelpful. Certainly this place is not the one for us. Pool-playing deep sea fishermen with unwashed armpits. Oh, no. We ate fish and chips in the car and headed home for 4 calling at the Barleycorn at Scholes, and Drighlington where we checked out the outside of the Valley Inn, which LG had mentioned is shortly to become a managed house. This did fire something and we returned home for tea excitedly. Just Ally and I tonight. Much whispering together.
 

Saturday February 28, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

New Moon

Our envelope from the brewery reveals two available pubs:

(1) The Jolly Sailors, Whitby

(2) The Pig & Whistle at Scunthorpe.

We resolve to venture forth tomorrow and on Monday to inspect these hostelries.

Chris.

Christopher's party: We first went to Lidget Green where Ally and Sam were coiffured. Saw Club Street. The Whetnalls have put up net curtains. On to Janette's but she wasn't in. To the Royalty pub for a quick pint in the cold. Sam played on the swings with another Sam and a Jade, as in Jagger. We went to Sue's at 2pm. A jolly afternoon. Much wine. I drove Janette to Menston to collect some 'home brew'. She wanted to see me at the wheel. We found Susan greatly changed. ________. Peter was creating such a 'to do' because Sue spent £15 on a leg of pork. Ally is lucky that I do not know or care what she spends our money on. Home at 6. I have lost my watch.

Over zealous Chinese officials desperate to reach their targets during s campaign to exterminate rodents made some couples produce a rat's tail to get a marriage licence, a Peking newspaper said yesterday.

A letter in the Daily Telegraph from the Rev Brian Anderson, of Bromsgrove: "Sir - Now that push button telephones are so common, the verb 'to dial' seems to be wholly inappropriate. Do your readers have any other ideas? Push, prod or poke just do not seem right especially when we would need to have a replacement for something like 'dialling tone'."

Also from the Telegraph: "... part of a programme published by Manchester City Council for its International Women's Week next month: 'March 8 - come and share the day with deaf lesbians, and start to learn their language. With workshops and videos. All lesbians welcome."

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Friday February 27, 1987

 Moorhouse Inn

Christopher Paul is 5 to-day. Party tomorrow.