Sunday April 3, 1983

 Easter Day

Up at 9. Boiled eggs with toast. Phoned Susan and Lynn. Sue says they will go to Waltergarth tomorrow and take us along with them.  She was laughing saying I had broken her off from cleaning the lavatory. Such an odd thing to be doing in celebration of the risen Christ. Lynn is calling upon us later. Phoned Mum to say we will see her tomorrow. Karen and Steve are with them now. Mum has had a busy time. The place has been packed. She sounded pleased as Punch.

Lynn and Dave came before 2 with the girls and we passed half an hour in pleasant intercourse. Frances, leggy, thinks I am Alison and Alison is me. We exchanged birthday presents. They bought me two mirrors which will go well in the bathroom. We sat Frances on the piano stool and she banged around looking very much like the late Winifred Atwell, only white. Katie is very big and pink and extremely good, not making a single sound. Lynn fed her. They went off to see Audrey, and I think holding something back about her condition. Watched Richard Burton, aged about 16, in 'The Robe'. Awful really. Lasagne.

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Saturday April 2, 1983

 We woke after 10 both feeling groggy. I went out to the Co-op and bought butter and sugar. It wasn't until I was sauntering past the frozen peas that I discovered an icy draught blowing through my open flies. I must have given some morning shoppers a rude awakening.  We had our glass-free Hot Cross Buns and guzzled tea. I went out and hung out the washing as Ally splashed in her bath. I think that perhaps we have slipped up this Easter. We should have avoided the boring, mundane routine today. We went to town to buy something for Frances who is two on Wednesday. Two hours in revolting toy shops full of plastic junk on sale at exhorbitant prices. Eventually we bought some pink shorts and a little shirt to match.

Later, at home, we had salad sandwiches and watched 'Raid on Entebbe'. In fact we didn't move fom the TV all night. I shoved a breast of lamb in the oven with some potatoes. Watched John Alderton in one of those boring vet films.

It is a year since the Argentinians invaded the Falklands. I do miss Ian MacDonald's MOD broadcasts.

I have an Easter Card from my great-auntie Annie (Kirk), and she is 'ever so pleased' that I 'have had Grandma and Grandad framed'. Very amusing. Sounds like some despicable conspiracy. Watched another Woody Allen film but dropped off before the end and woke up to see Rod Stewart leaping around encased in tin foil like a Christmas turkey. To bed.

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Friday April 1, 1983

 The first day of April. The year is flying. Sunshine but cold. Up at 6:44. I dislike having a day off when Ally has to work, but I suppose I will have to get used to it. Off to the AHA she went in her tight jeans and green boots looking dishy. She got a lift with Les Hotchin.

 I made Hot Cross buns but smashed the [illegible] bowl showering the room with jagged glass and dough. I closely inspected the buns and found no shards of glass and thought it safe to bake them. Splashed in the bath and went out at 11:45 to meet Ally. I walked down as far as the pet shop and then got a bus to scale the heights of Squire Lane. I arrived at Chestnut House and found Ally keeping vigil at a window. She laughed because I was wearing a tie. We walked hand in hand to the Queen on Daisy Hill Bank, a Webster's house, where we spent two hours and a small fortune. I consumed five pints of bitter. The place is full of paintings by Stuart Hirst, son of the landlord. We had cheese and onion sandwiches and sat watching the other customers. It is most definitely the life for us. We went back to Chestnut House at 2:15 and I sat with until 4. John MacCabe came to inspect me as I sat typing on Patricia's electric typewriter, and then I helped Gillian make the tea. She didn't believe me when I told her I was 'retiring'. _______. We came home for 4:30 after phoning Lynn and David to see if we could go over and probably babysit for them. They didn't take us up on our suggestion. Lynn is obsessed with having babies and wants nothing in between. __________. We phoned Mum too. They had five men in last night and are having four tonight, who are also having dinner too. John called on them this morning on his way to Scotland with the offering of a dead rabbit which he's killed on the way up. Janette, who is working at Easter, is occupying the flat quite alone. Ally doesn't want to go to Horton if it's swarming with hikers, but I don't think it will ever become quieter. It's the walking season. 

Later we had a liver and onion special and collapsed. Ally, feeling fragile, snoozed in my arms and went up to bed at 9. I stayed up until 12:30 and watched Woody Allen's 'Love & Death' - always worth seeing. To bed.

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Thursday March 31, 1983

 We were up eating bananas on toast and watching Breakfast TV. We switched around from the BBC to TV-am. All very trivial and boring. Intrigue at the YP. I keep emreging from behind the filing cabinets to find Sarah and Margo whispering. Later I saw Geoff and Bob in a corner with Kathleen, obviously discussing me. I am paranoid. I gave Geoff some material on tigers. He says you can keep a tiger at home by following the entry for tigers in the 1955 Encyclopaedia Britannica. Sarah left at 4.

I have an apology to make. Baroness Willoughby de Eresby is 27th holder of the peerage, not the 28th. The co-heirs to the peerage are her elderly aunts. I would like either to be a peerage lawyer or a publican. Not much difference really. One pulls peers and the other pulls beers.

I phoned Ally. She is miserable because she cannot take tomorrow off because Jean is. She went off at 5 for a trim and looked deliciously sweet tonight.  I bought her a chocolate egg for £1.99 and a sloppy Easter card. She deserves every bit of romantic clobber I can muster. I hid the egg on top of the wardrobe. 

I got in at 6 and made bacon and eggs whilst Ally made herself pretty in pink trousers and white top. She is feeling delicate _________. We cuddled up and watched 'Top of the Pops' and Kenny Everett. Up to bed at 10. Before dropping off Ally remembered that it's April Fool's Day tomorrow and wants to to do something appropriate. I'll ring Mum and tell her that the council have given approval to build an ASDA on the top of Pen-y-ghent.

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Wednesday March 30, 1983

 Scurry off to the YP full of glee. Saw Geoff. He gave me my application forms with additional flowing script.He must think I'm the bees knees. I am very flattered that he has taken such an interest in my future life. Kathleen asked if he is 'pushing me'. What can she mean? Told Sarah about my plans and she was pleasant. I think Kathleen had given her some idea.  I collected my £67.05 because it is Easter. Marched through Leeds this lunch time and sat in Park Square - probably for the last time. My God, what hours of solitary reflection have I spent in that peaceful liitle haven. The pigeons will miss me. 

Saw in The Times that Lady Jane Fellowes has had a son, Alexander, on March 23. A first nephew for the Princess of Wales. Lady Sarah McCorquodale expects in July. Viscount Head is dead. That would be a good opening line for an epitaph. The Earl of Ancaster has gone too. His daughter becomes the 28th Baroness Willoughby de Eresby. I would like to master the laws relating to (peerage) abeyance.

Home to Pig. She was unhappy at first with Geoff's re-wording, but after reading them a few times accepts his version. She didn't approve of his tatty typing.

Chicken and mushroom pie at 7:30. Jim, Margaret and Julie came for half an hour to collect a carpet knife. They inspected the kitchen closely. Watched Dallas and went to bed at 10.

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Tuesday March 29, 1983

 Wet. a daffodil is trying to flower in the garden. I have been watching it's progress with interest. (Hot Cross) buns for breakfast again. Ally spilled tea on her skirt and had to go change. 

At the YP I gave Geoff my application forms and he went away saying he will look at them tonight. Derek Foster says he will have to start looking at the births, marriages and deaths after my departure.

Told the EP that Sir William Brooksbank is dead. They did it this evening.

I felt the absence of Carol J today and shudder to think how the department will run with only three staff. People keep coming in and going away puzzled ats to what will be the procedure after April 8. I told an EP reporter that the place is going self service, with wire baskets and Johnny Mathis tapes playing on a loop only to be interrupted occasionally by an adenoidal announcement: 'Mr Hawkins to the cash desk please'.

Sarah probably won't get to my leaving party. Anne Goodyear, Michael Brown and Penny Wark look like certainties. Kathleen is panic stricken and scurries here and there. Home at 5:30. I hung around on Wellington Street for half an hour. Chicken again. We laid on the settee all night. A science fiction film. The Martians came, but they all caught cold and died. Silly.

Saw Sir Laurens van der Post interview the PM at No 10. What a remarkable woman she is. I find her very inspiring. 

Dave G phoned. He says Billy requires psychiatric treatment. I told him it's his age.

To bed at 11:44pm.

-=-

Monday March 28, 1983

 Full Moon

Sweet Auntie Hilda celebrates another birthday. We sent her a cheeky card which I think will put a few naughty words into auntie's 47 year-old mouth. 

Ally and I had hot cross buns for breakfast. She is happy today because Derek (Jenkins) is basking in Torremolinos. Why a man in his exalted position wishes to holiday in Torremolinos is a mystery. He is a district works officer you know. 

Off to the YP where I learn that today is not my eighth last day, but my seventh. Sarah and I are having it off on Good Friday.

Just Margo and I in. Saw Geoff Hemingway, who says he will take down my particulars tomorrow. Phoned Mum. They had another walking couple in for B & B. We argued about  the identity of 'Philip Ashley' in the 1952 film 'My Cousin Rachel'. I told her Richard Burton played the part opposite Olivia de Havilland's 'Rachel' (sic). She swore blind it was Kieran Moore.

Ally and I have yet to decide what we are doing at Easter. She doesn't want to spend the whole of the break at Horton.

Tonight we had roast chicken. Afterwards I typed application forms to Tetley's and Samuel Smith's breweries. Made a good job of them too. Ally's typing is abysmal on my machine. Saw 'Coronation Street' and 'Brass'. Mike Baldwin wants to build a discotheque in Rosamund Street. Annie Walker will be livid.

Royal News: The Prince and Princess of Wales dancing at a charity ball in Sydney. They moved excellently. Diana has really captured the impressionable little Aussies. 

David L phoned to see if we fancied a rock concert on Wednesday. I didn't recognise the group and so said no. A pleasant chat.

De Haviland has only one L.

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Sunday March 27, 1983

 Palm Sunday

We were awake at about 10 o'clock and Ally got up first and I lay watching her dress. She was in her tight jeans and white shirt. Her hair isn't as curly as it has been recently. I had two kippers for breakfast washed down with tea. Ally marvels at my capacity for fish, and takes me for something of an expert in removing bones. She ironed afterwards. Believe it or not, I made 12 Hot Cross buns and a gallon of apple wine. We had a phone call from Susie and they arrived at 2 o'clock. We had a drink. We also forgot to alter the clocks to British Summer Time. This threw us for the remainder of the day. Christopher wasn't quite as boisterous as usual and he beamed like the devil when he saw the piano. We have never thought to show the piano to a baby before. He banged away merrily. Sue looked really well and put away some red wine. They left at 4 to visit Pamela. It's Pamela and Peter's wedding anniversary and they are going to the Damn Yankee tonight. We ate Hot Cross buns at 5. Fish pie at 7. Saw a film about the Berlin Wall. Bed after the news. The royal progress of Australia puts back any talk of a republic until 2167.

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Saturday March 26, 1983

 I woke very early and something delicious happened. For a few seconds I thought it was a weekday and that I would have to get up, only then to find it is in fact a Saturday morning. We ate breakfast in our night attire and switched on the TV to watch cartoons. An odd thing for me to do. Ally especially at 9am finds the TV offensive. Afterwards I finished the letter to the Smiths of Weeke and took it out to post with Auntie Hilda's birthday card, only to find that I have missed the last post of the day by ten minutes. How infuriating. Ally, in a white T-shirt, looking bonnie, was washing and cleaning.

A cold day. We couldn't feel the ends of our fingers. John phoned last night. The party is still on and he wants me to brew some ale for him. Poor Janette is working hideously long hours. I fail to see why anybody would want to buy a caravan at 9:30 on a cold wintry night. John assures me that they do.

Went to town by bus and did the shopping and then walked back up - quite a haul with 48 tons of King Edward potatoes. A pleasant afternoon with a weak sun. At home we cuddled and had a beer and listened to Michael Jackson. Ally was restless and wanted visitors and so we phoned Jill and Tim who cannot come because they are going out with Tim's Dad. Phoned Karen. They come at 8:30. Karen looks fit and not too big. The baby is due on August 18, but will be three weeks late, she says. We sat and watched Terry Wogan interview Dolly Parton. Ugh. Steve fell asleep on the floor and Karen saw no point in letting him get settled, and so they left at about 11:30. Bed.

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Friday March 25, 1983

 Rain at first, brighter later. I was forced to make a quick exit from my bed to turn off a particularly loud alarm clock, and silence the offending Mike Read. Boiled eggs and toast. We looked in at breakfast TV. It is such a bore. Saw the Prince and Princess of Wales with the ghastly Bob Hawke in Australia. When will it become a republic?

To the YP. I have eight days to work. Labour held Darlington last night. Tories second. SDP third. Work stopped at 2:30 and we gave Carol a bouquet and a Collins dictonary. She produced a bottle of wine and Eileen Jones came in with a bottle of bubbly too and we celebrated the termination of Carol's thirteen year 'career' with cream buns. These are always very flat affairs. I suppose I'll have to go through it very soon. _______. Home for 5:30 feeling slightly groggy. Drinking wine on an afternoon does one no good. Fish and chips with Poodle. I ate like a starving wild cat. Ally posed a question: 'Name the only mammal that lays eggs?' Immediately and without hesitation I replied: 'Duck Billed Platypus'. She sighs 'you are so clever'. 

Have I told you that last Saturday David Frost married Lady Carina Fitzalan Howard? It was on the cards. I cannot imagine that the Duke of Norfolk will be chuffed about this.

I sat down and typed a letter to Graham and Charlotte Smith. We haven't heard from them since last June. Ally wallowed in the bath. Watched a documentary on the life of Noel Coward. To bed at 10:30. I told Bob C that the Bishop of Whitby has announced his engagement to the daughter of Judge Herrod, a Yorkshire QC. 

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Thursday March 24, 1983

 More cold and more wet. 

YP abysmal. Carol's penultimate day. Kathleen and Sarah discussing what present to buy Carol. They are going to give her flowers too. Our office is reminiscent of ancient Rome. The machinations. Went out to the building society at lunch time.The balance now stands at £100.30. 

Home to a grumpy Ally who is furious about work and in a temper all night because of it. I phoned a pub at Shipley for a part-time job advertised in the T & A. Phoned Jim Rawnsley who only returned from India yesterday. He will readily give me a reference and told me that he had been told in strictest confidence that certain people at the YP didn't want me to go. He had seen John Thorpe. Good old Jim. I knew he would hate India and he found the food and general poverty something of an ordeal. The remainder of the delegation from Leeds went on to the Taj Mahal but Jim escaped to home after ten days. I phoned a French restaurant who want bar staff. They said I would have to see the manager at 4pm tomorrow. No way. To bed at 10. I look at 'Black Mischief' by Mr Waugh. Don't read much.

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Wednesday March 23, 1983

 Still wet. We awoke in our little bunk at 6:30 and had the traditional hot bath. I concocted breakfast for Piglet, who came bustling in looking like a peach. ________. I must be a frightening sight leering over my boiled egg looking like some unwashed Dickens character. 

At the YP. Told Bob Cockcroft that Lord Yarborough's daughter is engaged. Just think, it might be my very last tip. Went to buy a metro card at lunch and called on cousin Jill. I said: "I have news", and she squealed amidst the slingback shoes "Oh, Ally is pregnant!" No, it's not that exciting I assured her. I told her I am 'retiring' from the YP and she looked at me as though I am raving mad. Tim is working in London. I told her about the party and went off on my bedraggled way.

A chilli extravaganza. Ally is sick of the sniping and in-fighting at Chestnut House. The health service is now like El Salvador. Even Jean is sneaky. It looks like the meal we owe them isn't going to materialise. Ally, speaking very generally, loathes women. Coronation Street tremendously funny. Hilda Ogden should stand for parliament. Saw Dallas too. We are soap opera fanatics. Ally washed out, and we contemplated bed at 9pm. 

News: the pound has fallen against the dollar to an all-time low. I have never been able to understand international finance. Tomorrow is Michael Foot's Waterloo - the Darlington by-election. Michael Foot is of course the horrid Mr Bonaparte. Did you know that the Belgian royal family descends from the 3rd Earl of Elgin & Ailesbury, a Jacobite? And, oh yes, poor Prince Claus. He's really flipped this time. Bed at 9:15.

-=-

Tuesday March 22, 1983

Bitterly cold. The snow has gone but it is here in spirit. Eleven days to go at the YP. It's hard to believe that I am finally escaping. You, dear reader, must be relieved too because I've groused on and on about the place since I started 10 long years ago. As they say on Coronation Street 'You are a long time dead'. Why spend life doing the mundane. I am going from unemployed library assistant to an unemployed author, or rock star.

Ally phoned. She has got £160 'back pay'. The swines at the AHA may be down grading her from higher clerical officer to personal secretary, but her salary is supposedly guaranteed for five years. However, if she is there at Chestnut House in 1988 something will have gone hideously wrong with our plans.

I told Sarah that I am leaving to go work in a bar and she smiled weakly in disbelief. Home at 6. Ally cooking. Mum and Dad came at 6:30 from the Queen's on Daisy Hill Lane where Dad had been engaged in conversation with a former military policeman who had been at the training academy with Dad in Surrey in 1954. Dined on Yorkshire puddings and a liver thingy. Saw the second bit of a film about Saints Peter and Paul, like Monty Python's Life of Brian. Raymond 'Perry Mason' Burr played Herod Agrippa. Farcical. Papa slept throughout. We afterwards studied my grandmother Rhodes's birth certificate. Ruth Allen Upton. Could the father have been a Mr Allen? Sadly, we'll never know. We surrendered our room and retired at 12-ish. They have had a couple of _______ from Magdalen College Oxford staying at Waltergarth. A case of Waltergarth Revisited.

-=-

Monday March 21, 1983

 Thunder, lightning, snow, hail, and rain. What a start to the first day of Spring. Ally went out to the bus stop and stood in the deluge. I stood at the window watching her. It was a heart rending sight, looking at her bedraggled and forlorn form.

The YP rotten. Sarah came down from her brainwashing course upstairs. Carol showing Margo how to classify the YP. ______.Carol was received in audience by Austin-Clarke this afternoon and she told him in no uncertain terms that she had been shoddily treated re her forthcoming departure. She is going on Friday and doesn't know whether or not to bring a wheelbarrow for the money. 

Didn't speak to Ally. Remiss of me. Left at 4. Bitterly cold. Snow fell this evening and when I looked out at 11:30 it was thick, white, and Christmas-card-like. Ally loves it.

News: Saw the Waleses 'down under' on the news. Prince William's favourite toy is a stuffed Koala. I am so cynical. When they go to India it will be a cuddly toy elephant, and in China a panda, and in Barnsley a red toy Arthur Scargill that shoots himself at the throw of a switch.  The Queen Mother and Princess Margaret arriving for a film premiere. PM looking trim and well. Other royal news: I have been reading the serialised memoirs of Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester. She skirts around important events with barely a mention and is bogged down with trivialities.

To bed at 11:30.

-=-

Sunday March 20, 1983

 Passion Sunday

Peter N celebrates his silver jubilee today. I phoned him and he was enthusiastic and pleasant, quite unlike the typical Mr Nason. A rotten day. Ally in a furious, blazing mood that made the going uneven. It was a day of activity. I moved the furniture around in the bedroom and Ally cleaned and polished like a ____. I ran up and down the cellar steps, bottling wine.

King Umberto of Italy has died in Geneva. The Italians have come out of this very badly because he wanted desperately to die on Italian soil, but was prevented from doing so by the constitution. He only lost the 1946 plebiscite by 2,000,000 votes. It was 12m to 10m I think. The Prince and Princess of Wales have arrived in Australia with Prince William. Alighting from the plane blinking in the sunshine. No royal prince has ventured so far from home at such an early age. I am in two minds about it. Australia is renowned for child-killing germs. 

Steak and kidney pudding tonight. We both sat with a drink first to cool off after the trauma of the afternoon. TV dismal. The series about the occupants of No. 10 has been ghastly. Tonight was Disraeli. Totally laughable. I have yet to see a convincing Queen Victoria on TV. To bed at 10 in our new styled bedroom. ______Exceptionally cold. A fight for survival for the hot water bottle. She won.

-=-

Saturday March 19, 1983

 Lay upon our bed until after 11. I took a bath and Ally prepared breakfast. My hair is looking good. Not a grey hair in sight. The milk person retreating down the garden path clutching £8 stood on a slug and skidded in the entrails leaving the garden path looking like the field after the Battle of Bosworth. I later went out with a spade to remove the corpse. The spring flowers are coming up, but only just. Our garden looks good in Spring, but at no other time. 

For the first time we walked from home and into town to do some shopping. Ally looked a treat in my large red pullover. The first time since autumn that I have been outside without a coat. In years gone by, when I was a robust youth, I went through winter after winter without the protection of any outer garments. We bought oddments for the bedroom and a 'get well' card for Audrey. Home for 4.

Lynn & Dave arrived from hospital looking gloomy. Audrey is on the mend but will be in hospital for three and a half months and is behaving differently, or perhaps I should say uncharicteristically. Audrey said  that S______M______ had once been found 'pissed' in his motor car, and Audrey never swears. Frances looked like a little lady in a maroon velvet dress and white tights. Ally corrects me and says it was 'plum'. They went away dumbfounded that I am quitting the YP. I phoned Mum and told her. She was shocked and seemed disapproving, but didn't say so. She was the one who was always wanting me to pack it all in, and now seems to be having doubts. Ally's mum phoned and talked about someone they know who is retiring and Ally saw this as an ideal opportunity to tell her that I am going to take redundancy. She was surprised but said that we should go out and do what we want whilst we are young. The idea that we might have a pub isn't her 'cup of tea' but says 'it is your life'. Relieved that we have told everyone.

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Friday March 18, 1983

 Up at 6:15 feeling beastly - it's my new name for her. Had a steaming bath and made breakfast for my slumbering companion. _________. Eggs, toast, &c.

Deposited Dave at his spot in the interchange. F24 actually. Wind my way to Leeds. Dull Day. Kathleen offensive. She's finding me all sorts of things to do before I go. Had a long chat with Geoff Hemingway. He is off next week and wants me to ring him when our application forms are ready to post. Jim (Rawnsley) is holding up this process. 'Before you piss off' he said 'can you find me the name of the caves where the first primative drawings were found?' Aren't they in France? Home, tired out.

Ally like the walking dead, and vicious. She is always vicious when she's tired. We ate and went off to bed reasonably early. Before crawling away I watched the thing on Channel 4 that I've been watching for four weeks. I had no idea that the French had invaded Ireland in 1798. I thought they were still in the caves daubing paint everywhere. Bisons, I think the cavemen painted bisons. To sleep serenaded by the dog at Mary's.

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Thursday March 17, 1983

 St Patrick's Day - Bank Holiday in N Ireland

I got up with Ally and saw her off on her way. I watched her at the bus stop and we waved over the traffic.  I sat with a coffee and typed a letter to Jim Rawnsley asking if I can use him as a reference. My typing woke Glynnie who came downstairs with the little hair he has left standing on end. He was bemused at my secretarial skills. We ate scrambled eggs, beans and toast. Looked at photo albums and had more coffee. We cannot decide which was the funniest Ibiza holiday. Laughed about Billy. I posted the letter to Jim and met Ally at the hospital. Raining. Went to the Travellers Rest for lunch. Scampi and beer. Phoned Lynn. Audrey is on the mend, but for some reason is irritated by Henry, accusing him of 'wittering'. Phoned Janette and asked her and John to join us this evening. I slept after dinner and missed Top of the Pops. John & Janette came at 8 and we all went to the Bod. Glynnie, drinking pints, was hilarious.Listened to music and made merry. Dave insists he isn't going bald but has had a 'Phil Collins haircut' that's gone wrong. Back to our place for more ale and music. John is throwing a retirement party in my honour on April 9. Hee! Hee!

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Wednesday March 16, 1983

 A hysteric day at the YP. Arrived to find a cheque for £25 from Derek Foster. I think I have Bob Cockroft to thank for this. I went out to Carlo & Jeffrey and had my haircut for £4.50. I was 'seen to' by a silent person strongly resembling Eartha Kitt. I am happy with it. I bought the 12' single of Michael Jackson's 'Billie Jean'. 

Back at the office I have a note tucked into my typewriter reading: 'Armageddon, April 8.' The date of my severance. Austin-Clarke phoned Kathleen whilst I was under the scissors and he asked her when I wanted to go, and she said April 8 because it was the first date that came into her head. I will be so glad to go, I have had enough of the whole business. 

At 5:30 I went to Bradford and met Dave G in the interchange. Through the drizzle to Lidget Green. Ally has bought Michael Jackson's 'Thriller'. She seldom buys records. We had a chicken and mushroom pie washed down with our own apple wine which was very acceptable. Dave was itching to go out and at 9:30 we walked up to the Fiddlers' Three for a few post-prandials. The wind was blowing like hell. We discussed pubs, bars, breweries and beer. Ally has a logical brain, and I have not. Home for cheese on toast and coffee. We watched the football. Liverpool were beaten.

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Tuesday March 15, 1983

 Ally had an egg and I didn't. Eggs can be repetitive. I feel very proud to admit that I haven't yet watched Breakfast TV. I saw Frank Bough for five seconds on the day it all started, but since then we have resisted the urge. It will never catch on. 

Today is Budget Day - a day I find chronically boring. At one time I would have found some interest in the chancellor's little shuffle with the economy but I have grown now to realise it means nothing. I object to the sight of a little fat stockbroker from 'the City' coming on the evening news to tell me that I am going to be 63p a week 'better off'. Who cares? However, one so-called pundit said with some confidence that the general election will take place on June 16, 1983. Poppycock. If Mrs Thatcher goes to the country before October then I am the Earl of Euston.

Kathleen was a bit of a pain. Getting in a state I think about the soon-to be-decrease in her work force. She says she wouldn't be surprised if Irvine Crawford was to take over the Library operations one day, after she has gone. Mike Hickling came in and asked when the 'piss-up' is to take place to celebrate my departure. Michael Brown says he might join me. He is sick of writing about church unity. He has been writing about it for ten long years, and Rome is still no nearer. Carol will be freed on March 25, and I can leave after that. Mrs Slocombe's 'Nancy Reagan-like' surgery hasn't had the desired effect and she's now more like Margaret Lockwood in The Wicked Lady, only fatter. 

I left at 12 and took a half-day. Piglet had made a stew. The newspapers are full of pictures of the Waleses with the infant prince, some in sickly technicolour. Ally thinks the lad is like his mama. They go to Australia on Friday, and if the thought of bush fires and and starving packs of singed marsupials isn't enough, they will have to contend with Mr Hawke and his revolting Labour administration. Diana will win 'em all over, though. Ally went upstairs to prepare Mr Glynn's suite and I was left twiddling my thumbs. I did have some ale bottling to do. I have chipped the enamel on the sink again. We shall have to have it seen to. Ally gloomy about this.

-=-

Monday March 14, 1983

 Lynn phoned Mum today to say that Audrey is conscious and talking to the boys but is very quiet. She was in collison with Simon M______, son of the owner of R_____ P____. It will be something of a miracle if Mrs B recovers.

To the YP. Saw Geoff and gave him my particulars. He raised his eyebrows in amazement when I told him Jim Rawnsley is an old friend and a possible referee. He tells me that Jim is in Jullundur at the moment discussing the twinning of the Indian city with Leeds.Poor Jim. I bet he hates it. Mrs Slocombe was straining to hear what Geoff and I were discussing. Bashed on until four and left in the sunshine. Home for 5.

I phoned Glynnie this morning. He says he's probably coming her on Wednesday and leaving on Friday. I arranged to collect my pay on Wednesday,  so that I'm not financially embarrassed during the royal visit. Ally came in at 5:10 and I already had the trussed chicken rotating in the oven. The spuds were peeled, veg washed, and Yorkshire puddings mixed.

Ally sat with the newspaper reading bits to me.  The infant daughter of Lord and Lady Romsey was christened Alexandra Victoria Edwina Diana at Romsey yesterday. The Princess of Wales stood sponsor. Two years ago the prince acted in a similar fashion at the dipping of the Romseys son, Nicholas. Ah yes, Nicholas and Alexandra, no doubt named after the last Tsar and Tsarina , close relations of earl Mountbatten. The Waleses go to the antipodes on Friday - all three of them. Read in the Sunday Telegraph that Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester, is writing her autobiography and the first installment, in the paper, dealt with the eccentric Dukes of Buccleuch, who lived in far greater splendour than the monarch who became her father-in-law.

After our chicken feast we watched TV. Ken and Deirdre Barlow are back from Malta with a plan of action to prevent Ken becoming boring again. She ironed. I watched a Western starring Lee van Cleef.

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