20200406

Sunday December 23, 1979

_. 4th in Advent

Ally moved in for the duration of the Yuletide festival.

Lynn and Dave had a party tonight at Burley. By combining the families [Bakers and Rhodeses] none of us enjoyed it quite as much as we should. _____. John and Maria appeared but M got a lift home with Chris Baker, leaving John in the bossom of his family. John can drink whisky at a phenomenal pace. We all stood in the kitchen exchanging jokes and various stories at which Jim Nason was a central figure. Back at Pine Tops Ally and I sat up until dawm.

-=-

20200404

Saturday December 22, 1979

_. Ally and I were in Bradford all day concluding the Christmas shopping horror. The whole day was a nightmare, like a scene from 'War and Peace'.

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter came for dinner to Club St, at 8. A few drinks around the record player. Nothing outrageous occurred and they all left at about 12. We sat up until after 3.

-=-

Friday December 21, 1979

_. Ally did some Chrissie shopping in Leeds and collected me at 4:30. We went to Guiseley and found Mum and Dad sat by the light of the Christmas tree hand in hand. Dad was very emotional on the subject of Uncle Albert [Wilson], who died 10 years ago on Dec 29. At 9:30 Ally and I went to the White Cross where Peter and Jim and a few work mates are coming to the end of a 12 hour drinking session. Jim and Peter came back to Pine Tops.

-=-

20200403

Thursday December 20, 1979

_. Up and out to the YP early to avoid Dad. I phoned Mum at Burley but she didn't answer. I then phoned Lynn. ____. At 7pm Mum phoned me, then Dave came here to collect Dad to take him to Burley for a 'reunion'. Ally came at 8:30 and we went to the Drop. Some hideous Carol singers came in. I could have strangled them. On to Oakwood. Got thoroughly sozzled. Found a wheel trim and brought it home for Dad, at 3am. I stole into Susan's room and she informed me that Mum & Dad are once again under the same roof.  Such a relief. My silly parents - behaving like Rod Stewart and Britt Ekland.

-=-

Wednesday December 19, 1979

_. Wasn't that a delightful little diversion? For the first time in the seven year history of this journal I handed over the pen to another. Subsequently, the entries for the last few days have not been my own, but those of Miss Alison Mary Dixon.

It was a ghastly day... or should I say night? Out at 7pm with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J to Salvo's. I had first been to tea with Auntie Delia at Ivory Towers. The annual YP library Christmas 'nosh up' is always a failure, and even Kathleen's planned absence didn't help. We spent £10 from the kitty which was donated by an obliging Swede for whom we made photostats of the Yorkshire Ripper cuttings. In other words we dined out courtesy of the Yorkshire Ripper. Despite the paper hats and plastic whistles the evening was a bore. At home Mum and Dad were extremely frosty. Things haven't been too good lately and the sound of raised voices penetrated the bedroom wall, and I realised only to well that I was in for 'one of those nights'. Mum got up and drove to Burley.

-=-


Tuesday December 18, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

"After a good two hours sleep in Michael's bed it was once again the hour of doom! I struggled to leave the warm folds of the continental quilt, and so, as usual these days, I was late for work. Just for a change, the evening was spent in each others company beginning with a visit to 7, Lawn Road, where we were greeted with delight and tumblers of whisky. I had Christmas cards waiting for me from the Pinder residence in Southampton addressed to 'C/O Mr & Mrs D. Baker'.

Michael and I left the always busy Bakers ironing and screwing brass handles on kitchen cupboard doors to spend a couple of hours in togetherness. But, as if fate wants to thwart of solitude, George Waite joined us for the remainder of the evening at the Fox and Hounds.

I think I have said enough now, so.... just remember ... Miss Melissa Teasdale, a loved one, thanks the author of this journal Michael Lawrence Rhodes for the very great honour bestowed!

-=-

Monday December 17, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

"Once again, the evening was an unbelievable success.... we seem so inseparable .... who would have ever thought it?

Debbie was hostess for the night ... a private 18th birthday party at 'Jeeves' in Burley-in-Wharfedale. Susie stole the limelight wearing a little black, split-skirt number! After driving a dismayed Gus home - [he had somehow smashed a sink in the gents and the manager had threatened him with: 'pay up, or we'll see you in court.'] I sat drinking hot Nescafe with Michael.

-=-




Sunday December 16, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

...... "Feeling slightly delicate. I was made to go downstairs at noon to eat fried eggs! The faithful Spitfire managed to carry my Christmas tree and couple of 'very close friends' to Club Street. We stopped off at the 'Second West' pub in Lidget Green. Afterwards Michael and I were amazed at the skill David G showed for hanging balls, wrapping buckets with Christmas paper, &c.

Dear Auntie Nora made us all welcome later with Yorkshire puddings and roast pork... this, combined with a pre-dinner aperitif, and Riesling with the dinner, knocked us all out. The evening ended to the delightful descant tones of Michael and David snoring".

-=-

Saturday December 15, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

"Love is ... letting a loved one write in his precious, sodding, bugger of a diary."

"Today was Christmas tree picking day!! After frantic phone calls from the Baker residence pleading with me to get up.... we went, Lynn, David, Chris, Julie and Dave Allinson,  and me, in a howling gale ... to select six delightful Christmas trees from a farm in deepest Bramhope. During this time my precious Michael was out entertaining his quaint Stockport guest at one [possibly many] of the drinking houses in Guiseley. The afternoon continued with pre-Christmas festivities. Whisky and home-brewed hock being favourites.... Michael and Lynn, typical sister and brother, arguing over which colour Christmas paper to wrap around the barrel of the tree. Tree decorations, wassail cups, flying everywhere. My beloved, as he promised many weeks ago, insisted I dress in 'kagool' and wellies and dragged me out into the wild evening to pick holly.  A truly romantic setting! A quick half pint of punch at Peter Lazenby's didn't go amiss. In fact, after Harry R[amsden's] fish and chips we caused something of an uproar in the Drop and the Yorkshire Rose tap room, then Guiseley Working Mens' Club - Michael dressed in one of his father's old boiler suits and flat cap, and David Glynn is a hideous red tie, beret, and suit jacket with stuffed birds stitched to the shoulder. A sight not to be missed! Lazenby's party was wonderful, to say nothing for the 'bloody hot curry'. Lights went out at 7am on Sunday morning.

-=-

Friday December 14, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

"Michael, having washed all the drinking vessels, staggered into bed with me! __________.
A venture into Leeds to collect M's wage packet was followed by a strange little drink at the Peacock, in Yeadon. The smell of deep fried scampi affected Michael in an adverse way, and so I drove the sick looking alcoholic peasant back to his doss house. Four hours later saw the arrival of Sir Arthur Sidebottom, the Australian sports correspondent [aka David Glynn]. The Drop and the Fox & Hounds had the honour of our presence.

-=-

Thursday December 13, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

[as dictated by Mr Michael Firefly]

It was with great relief that the author regained consciousness feeling much better in himself. Miss Dixon now takes up the tale:

"On arrival, not only was a glass of the famous QC sherry handed over, but also a glass of home brewed carrot wine. The night was enhanced by the joviality of Mr & Mrs Baker, the Rt Hon James Nason and his glorious wife Madame Margarette. [deletion] .... the authoress is aware that people like to shoot grouse occasionally.

-=-

Wednesday December 12, 1979

_. [compiled by Ally's own hand]

My darling Michael was far from present at the delightful YP. My little heart sank as Carol informed me of his whereabouts... at home in his bed! The spitfire, minus petrol, got me to his side. I threw his letter at him and left. I waited for him to ring, but no, as usual he left me in despair. My pianoforte sounded out of tune as my delicate fingers bashed out the notes of the 'Fairy Waltz' - I played like I have never played before!

After his visit from 'Miss Melissa Teasdale' the aforementioned Mr Rhodes took to his bed in a haze of delirium and Lemsips. Goodnight!!!!

-=-

Tuesday December 11, 1979

_. [NOTE] I think I injured my hand and was rendered unable to place pen to paper. I handed my diary over to Ally and gave her permission to compile the journal.....

[deletion] ... You were out living it up with a little dolly bird. Anyway, that's beside the point! Meanwhile at Standale Rise, Pudsey, Michael was feeling the first twinges of his nasty disease at the homestead of his dear Aunty Mabel. Snot perfused from his nasal cavity, cascading over the simple Spam sandwiches that lay before him. Next .....

-=-

Monday December 10, 1979

_. [Indecipherable other than] What now follows is an account of a week in the life of Mrs Melissa Teasdale [a nickname I gave to Ally].

-=-

Sunday December 9, 1979

[Blank]

Saturday December 8, 1979

_. Got out of bed at 10am to MM on the phone asking Ally and I to attend tonight's wedding party. They are marrying at Rawdon Church this afternoon. I explained that we are having a Christmas party and cannot make it.

A busy day of preparation. Ally raided her Snoopy money box and we went into Bradford for hours of gruesome and frantic shopping. I was given the task of carrying £7 in pennies around the town. She had every intention of attempting to spend the coins in a supermarket. Obviously, I strongly disagreed with this ridiculous idea.

Back at Club Street I bedecked the house with decorations and festooned the tree with more balls. Inflated balloons too. Ally prepared a buffet, cheese things and creamy stuff whilst I huffed and puffed.

At 7:30 we went with Sue and Peter to the Dog & Gun at Apperley. Sue says life has been frightful at home today and Mum is behaving as if deranged and had been in tears on the phone to Lynn.

Back to Club Street for 8:30. Lynn, Dave, Mum, Dad, Jim, Margaret, Julie N arrived at 9. I felt long, uneasy silences in the gaps between the records. Mum was wearing a brave face but obviously not feeling herself, and Margaret, who is usually very noisy, sat straight faced and impassive. But then she moved over to the piano, raised the lid and banged away in a hideous fashion. It soon became clear that she cannot play a single note. She is nothing short of a lunatic.

-=-

Friday December 7, 1979

_. This was one of those rare and wonderful Fridays when I do not suffer a multitude of self-inflicted agonies brought on by outrageous lashings of wicked, chilled alcohol.

This evening I returned home to find Mama tucked up in bed with stomach pains. I suspect they are probably pains of a menopausal nature. Dad and Sue were messing around making tea. I made myself a cheese sandwich. At 7 I was back on the open road to Bradford. It took an hour to get to Lidget Green. A tiresome journey across that dark city.

Ally I had our usual crawl around a few of the local taverns. Afterwards we erected Mum's 6" silver Christmas tree, adorning it with balls and flashing lights. This was a temporary measure just for tomorrow night's party because next week Dave B is getting her a real tree from Chris Baker's farm.

Ally fell into a coma on the hearth rug. Can you hear the distant toll of wedding bells perhaps?

-=-

20200401

Thursday December 6, 1979

_. At 1pm I went out to do some shopping. My purchases included two dusters and a sink sterilising kit - wedding presents for MM and Marita.

Marita was having a farewell party at the Central and I took the peculiar yet innovative gifts along with a card I created for the forthcoming wedding. I was somewhat embarrassed at the reception my card received. It was circulated throughout the pub, to much hilarity and applause. I made my escape back to the safety of the YP.

Out tonight with dear Ally to the Drop. This pub is rapidly soaring to the heights of our affection. Jean Hanson, the adorable tenant, knows us almost as well as her own incarcerated family. I say incarcerated because young Geoffrey, her son, is frequently behind bars somewhere, and not the drinking kind.  The lad always looks so innocent and angelic too.

Fish and chips in Guiseley.

-=-

Wednesday December 5, 1979

_.An evening of pleasant intoxication. Marita's pre-wedding booze-up of course. Dave L came for me at about 7:45 and the two of us went on to the Albert Inn at Yeadon. We were joined by Marita, her sister Carla, and a band of electricians and post office workers who all work closely with Marita. It took a while to warm up, but we were soon making merry. Marita can drink like a fish of course.

Ally joined us at 9:30 from her piano lesson and we stood at the bar with David. It really is shameful how Dave and I have drifted and lost touch in recent times. He has just taken up a post at a school in Brighouse on a temporary basis. He says the children are as thick as two short planks and rough with it. The very name Brighouse evokes a Dickensian scene in my mind. David mysteriously disappeared at about 10:30. Ally came back to Pine Tops.

-=-

Tuesday December 4, 1979

_. To the YP by omnibus and found myself sitting on the top deck next to Peter Lazenby, armed with his copy of the vile 'Morning Star'. We sat in silence throughout and he handed me the rag to read, probably trying to convert me. I sat grunting at the ridiculous slant his paper puts on the current situation. Derek Robinson, the communist who has brought British Leyland to a standstill, is a 'hero', and Lord Carrington is being a 'provocateur' over the Rhodesian situation. I smiled because of the line the 'Morning Star' takes over the Ayatollah Khomeini. They cannot excuse his hideous behaviour and on this topic they side with the capitalist Yanks. Peter smoked his peculiar cigarettes throughout dropping piles of ash over me as well as himself. I shall more than likely attend Peter's birthday/Christmas party on December 15.

I wrapped a few Christmas presents this evening and then phoned Ally. Sue and Pete went out to a pantomime and I watched a Vincent Price horror movie until after 12. Mum and Dad were roaring with laughter about abusive phone calls. Kinky, eh? Bed at 12:27am with Adolf.

-=-

Monday December 3, 1979

_. Susan has a chill or something worse. It's always the same as we near Christmas. Last Christmas was particularly gruesome in this respect. A quiet day at the YP. Sarah and Carol J were thrilled seeing Dame Edna on Saturday, but not impressed by Sir Les Patterson. That was only to be expected really.

News: Joyce Grenfell is dead at 69. Senator Edward Kennedy says the USA should not have offered refuge to the poor Shah of Iran, whom he has labelled a criminal and a torturer. Mrs Thatcher is having a battle at the EEC summit in Dublin. A wealthy tycoon's wife has leapt to her death from an aircraft. Serena Balfour, of Studley Royal, gave birth to a daughter, Consuelo, on November 29. It is reported that the Prince of Wales is to take up residence in an apartment at Kensington Palace from next February. Why hasn't Charles moved into the magnificent Chevening in Kent? It does seem odd that this vast mansion lies empty and HRH continues to dwell in cramped condition with his mother at 'Buckminster Castle' [as Sir Les Patterson calls it].

-=-

Friday February 28, 1986

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ Will Prince Andrew wed Fergie? She is of good stock, a brilliant pedigree in fact but her age is against her....