Sunday February 3, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Septuagesima

A working Septuagesima, no less. Mum and Dad went to John's for the afternoon supposedly for lunch, but when they got there the cupboard was bare. ___________. They came back at 5:30. 

We watched 'Songs of Praise Greatest Hits 1985' and found ourselves singing 'Abide With Me'. Mum says she last sang the old favourite at Uncle Albert's funeral in January, 1970. You know I have an aversion to hymn singing. A TV session. 'By The Sword Divided' - not excellent by any means. Downstairs at 9 o'clock I helped Margaret in the bar. An enjoyable evening.

News: Poor Princess Margaret has gone to Mustique to 'recuperate' in the company of royal 'jester' Ned Ryan.

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Saturday February 2, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We went to Horton again. This time taking John. It meant leaving here at 8am. It was windy and cold up in the Dales. John climbed on the roof and grovelled inside the loft looking for leaks. It was all too complex for me. I sat reading 'Princess Margaret' by (Nigel) Dempster, and reflecting on the gloomy prospects of HRH's survival. We went to Settle at 1:30 and ate pies in the street before going in to the Talbot. We got somewhat 'worked up' in the pub and Dad and I slobbered into our beers. We really let off steam on these escapades to Horton. Home for tea. We ate French bread and cheese. Mum was very bright. No staff tonight because of Mavis's smallpox. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously. 

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Friday February 1, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Madge Millar is 39. A party for her PM. Frank Millar lashed out and spent £7 on sandwiches and pork pies. The (birthday) cake, ablaze, took ones breath away. She had fifty candles lit for some reason. Ally used a good many matches lighting it.

Mum and Dad came back from Hilda's. The Jim Nasons came here, inc Julie. 

And so February comes.

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Thursday January 31, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Marita 30. Andy (Bowden) arrived late pm. Idle bleeder. To Rawdon, to the dentist. No Hough, No Hodgson. The dentist was a lisping effeminate type. Needed no treatment, and booked an appointment for July. Samuel, all in yellow, went in, and the dentist counted his teeth, and registered him. Samuel didn't enjoy the experience and sat pulling at his tongue on the journey home. Saw Kim Dean in Rawdon (see Diary 1973).

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Wednesday January 30, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Busiest ever luncheon. Cleaned the beer lines. Phoned Glynnie. Spoke to Mum at Pudsey. She seemed cheerful. Tony's cousin, a Mr Tunnicliffe, has been killed in a hit and run incident in Stanningley. They looked in on the crash scene, in glorious technicolour, on YTV's 'Calendar'. It ruined luncheon, no doubt.

And so, January has ended.

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Tuesday January 29, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

I will be brief because time is running out. Mum and Dad went to Hilda and Tony's for a few days, and Samuel went back into his own room, and we had a good night sleep for once. The boy must object to our snoring. Margaret worked instead of Andy, who worked last night with Maureen. A dead night.

Mum is back in the house where she was born 50 years ago.

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Monday January 28, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds

The snow goes. We went to Tadcaster leaving Mum and Dad babysitting. No sign of Rob and Kath. Donna (Lea) says Kath is in hospital with blood pressure. All the Sam Smiths managers assembled in the sub-zero brewery canteen. The new 'flexi-time' was the main item on the agenda, and we watched a promotional film on a tiny TV set. We then went shivering to the Angel & White Horse. A sycophantic bunch. C__W took the award for the manager with the brownest tongue (re arse licking). David Tyne came to Ally's side and Fran O'Brien suggested suitable restaurants for our supper. We spent some time with Don Whitfield - a nice man. We left at 9:30 and went to Jacomelli's, yet again, and found the place to ourselves, but for a fat, homely waitress called Doris. I got the hiccoughs so badly that the crockery rattled. Pissed as a fart. Home. Samuel had been angelic. To bed.

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Sunday January 27, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

3rd Sunday after epiphany

Snow fell. John came with JPH and Catherine. Janette was at home abed. John had been out at Beau Brummels until 3am. Naughty. Mum was frail. She cannot enjoy children as she once did. Catherine is a wonderful bubbling character and giggles at everything. Mum went to bed and I fell asleep on the settee snoring like a pig ( so I'm told). Later, after John's departure we had lamb and Lynn spoiled things by phoning to say that the roads in Guiseley were bad and that we should not attempt to drive over there this evening. Minutes later Lynn phoned back and said she was only having a panic and that the soiree was still on. Over we went and gathered around the TV set (Lynn refused to switch off). The booze was sparse and we came away at 11 o'clock quite gloomy. ______. Janette looked pale. Fish & chips at Westfield.

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Saturday January 26, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Horton-in-Ribblesdale

Dad and I went to Horton to rescue the ailing house plants. We took the Christmas tree in the car boot, feeling glum with ourselves. He cannot understand how Mum can be so ill-tempered. Who wouldn't be grumpy knowing they had only months to live?  We went to Settle and had a few drinks at the Talbot. I was pissed. At Waltergarth the plumbing was adrift and so Dad phoned Greaves & Warrington but they cannot get here until Saturday. We sat drinking home brew. I told Dad that he should keep the place and retain a home for himself afterwards. He assured me that he would not become a parasite like his horrible father did. We got back at 6. Mum had expected us back at 4.

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Friday January 25, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

My Rhodes grandfather was born on this day in 1901. We had a dreadful day. Mum was very low and remained in bed for the whole day shunning Dad. We felt quite useless. We were very busy and ignored her for most of the time. At 4 we went to Morrison's and did a 'big shop' and I had my hair cut. We came back for a stew but Mum stubbornly refused all food. I went and sat with her and she wept in despair saying she had hoped to see her grandchildren grow up and marry, and then pointing to the door she said referring to Dad: "It's all right for him in there ... he can soon begin a new life .. I have no future." I told her I loved her and held her thin hand but could be of little comfort.

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Thursday January 24, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Snow. We had a dreadful night. Samuel refused to sleep and took to trampolining upon his bed ________.

Frosty inside and out. At 2pm Ally took to her bed and I didn't see her again. Mum decided that Ally's absence was because she is tired of looking at her weepy, yellow mother-in-law. This is not so. Dad bathed Samuel and I snoozed on the settee through 'Top of the Pops'. Went down at 8 and stood with Audrey and Ann. Margaret and Andy did the bar. I did the till at 11:30 and Ally woke to a crab sandwich. She was still crabby too.

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Wednesday January 23, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Sunshine. Almost spring-like. We didn't get out of bed until 8:45. Ally went to the door to admit Maureen and I dressed Samuel and gave him a Weetabix. Mum stayed in bed, bathed in sunshine, and breakfasted on grilled sausage and tomatoes. Ally opened up at 11 and Dad took Samuel off across the moor and up to Grandways to buy pre-packed boiled ham and sweet and sour sauce (for Mum). Later, Mum broke down finding it impossible to climb out of the bath unaided ____________. Later she spoke of visiting Hilda and Tony for a couple of days next week. Good news because she hasn't wanted to visit anyone since leaving hospital.

Allt took Samuel to his clinic at 3 for his measles inoculation. She was out for hours. Poor Mum agonises over what to eat and at 3 I made her scampi on rice, covered in sweet and sour sauce. She took one mouthful and left the rest. She wept at putting us to so much trouble because Dad had been up Dewsbury Road twice in search of the offensive instant sauce mix.

Watched a slice of history. The (House of) Lords was televised for the first time from 2:30 until 7pm. The TV simmered throughout. Old Lord Stockton made a good speech. I do not know whether I approve. Should TV cameras be everywhere?

Scenes reminiscent of the French Revolution tonight. A tattooed yobbo attempted to assault me but was halted in mid-swing by his girlfriend's father, known only as Jimmy, and known to our own Maureen McNicol. A fight ensued outside, blood everywhere, and at 11pm I was swilling buckets of hot water down the path. Audrey found it great fun. I think she would be delighted to see me on the receiving end of somebody's fist. I seem to avoid personal attacks and have done remarkably well this year.

Tuesday January 22, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Cold and quiet. Dave Glynn phoned tonight but Ally and I were in the cellar, and when we phoned back Lily said that David has some bad news. He came on the blower to tell us that his grandfather died in the early hours of yesterday morning. He'd been right as rain on Sunday and had cooked breakfast as he always did. Dave heard grandad go to the loo after midnight (Dave was watching American football). Lily couldn't wake him in the morning and Dave went in to see him and found him with a smile upon his face, and very much at sleep. That's the way to go. The funeral is on Monday. 

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Monday January 21, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

New Moon

Dad went to Horton leaving Mum at Sue's for the day. We had a stocktake. It was Rob. It is two weeks since the last one. We are £12 down and the loss is in the Old Brewery Bitter. I tip too much away, and certainly cannot return all the spillages to the barrel. Ron stayed to lunch and had the steak and kidney. Discussed 'flexi-hours' which we are going to have pushed down our throats at the coming managers' meeting. The Scottish experiment has been a success. Before becoming a pub landlord I found the licensing laws totally ludicrous for the 20th century, but now I am at the other side of the bar I am undecided. Mum and Dad came back after 8. Mum laughed that it was the latest she's been out since her 'operation'. Mum is worried about Sue's gynaecological problems. She is awaiting a letter from Charing Cross Hospital. It is Lynn's opinion that Susan should have no further children. Pub quiet. Dull pool match. Ally drove Maureen home. I watched Ronald Reagan being sworn in for a further four years. It was an indoor job because of the weather.

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Sunday January 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

2nd Sunday after Epiphany

One of those days where we were all tetchy, plans were adrift, tempers flew, &c. To Menston and John's, but didn't get away until after 1pm. We left Mum in bed. Dad looking forlorn with the Sunday Telegraph on his knees. John's new house is filthy. He was very Churchillian in his boiler suit demolishing the kitchen. A podgy JPH was dismantling a spacecraft and watching 'Top of the Pops' videos. I joined him. Apparently, I'd arrived too late to do any work, but had a guided tour. Janette came back from the shops with a giggling Catherine, and Ally played with her on the floor. I sat, almost in a coma, with my coat pulled over my ears, looking out at the snow-capped roofs of Menston. Then on to Lynn's. Had a whisky and watched a Doris Day film. Frances was smacked and put to bed for naughtiness. Poor Katie was flinching and covering her eyes expecting to be similarly punished. At home at 5 Mum and Dad were 'frosty' to say the least and must have had a bad day together. They didn't speak for the rest of the evening, and when they don't speak neither do we. We dined on pork chops. Watched the TV series 'By the Sword Divided'. Not a pleasant evening. Samuel refused to sleep and screeched at regular intervals. Ally was too tired to prepare the food for the pub lunches and went to bed at 10:30. T stayed up bottling and did the till.

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Saturday January 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Samuel had a lousy night and kept us awake at intervals. This broken night gave Ally a touch of the screaming Adolf Hitlers. The girl cannot miss out on her sleep. We went out at 9 and had Samuel photographed in his sailor suit at Boots. He looked a little toff. On to the pine shop on Burley Road where we spent £240 on bedside cabinets and a large chest of drawers. The salesperson looked like a painted doll. Ally did her very best to get some discount but the painted doll turned a deaf ear. I have never been comfortable bartering. Such an un-English thing to do. The flea markets and bazaars of Casablanca maybe, but not Kirkstall. We also went to Morrison's and spent £50 on nothing. 

Back at the Moorhouse for 1 o'clock we found found Mum very bright and bustling around making lunch as in days of yore. She says the day had begun very badly because she had broken down catching sight of her reflection in the bathroom mirror. It's so cruel that she should look so ghastly when she has always been so self-conscious. At 2 we ate stew and Yorkshire puds together whilst listening to organ music from the Royal Albert Hall by Nicholas Kynaston (a cassette from David Howard). Ally found it very morbid. 

Mabel, Marlene, Frank and Debbie came at 4. Samuel was flustered by it all and hid behind the furniture. We ate toasted teacakes, scotch pancakes, crumpets, and drank gallons of tea. Ally was exhausted and sloped around in a dressing gown and could not go to bed because Samuel was playing up. I was downstairs with Mavis until after 12. 

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Friday January 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

John and Janette moved to Leathley Crescent this morning. Dad went to help, dropping Mum at Lynn's. __________. They returned after 6. Hilda had phoned just before they came in and she asked me if Mum could have any medical treatment at all, and I felt choked, and just gargled down the blower. ________. I went down and stood with Leonard (or 'FA' as he is known because he resembles the famous football cup of that name). Ally went to bed, but Samuel kept her awake.

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Thursday January 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We expected Donna Lea all day but she didn't materialise. This evening we were preparing for our Guiseley excursion when in walked John and Janette. Ally and I went downstairs under the pretext of waiting for Donna and after a decent interval we returned to the family to find them all silent and sitting uncomfortably. We  went to Sue's leaving them staring blankly at Bob Hope and Bing Crosby in 'Road to Rio'.   ____________.

At Sue's we found Lynn and Dave. I sat with Lynn on the settee and she cried buckets when I told her what conversation had passed between me and Dad last Thursday, and that he would live on alone at Waltergarth. What does she expect him to do? Lynn is so naive about life and death. Truly worrying. Move to a terrace house in Guiseley and mope around for the next 20 years? Sue looked slim and jovial, but is worried about her own condition and is undergoing tests. Chris was at a similar age to Ben now when she had that awful thing in Oct '82. John and Janette arrived and said that Mum had given them a 'rough ride' and Janette says she almost broke down at Mum's coldness. _______. The baby is due in July and they are going to live in unmarried bliss at Leathley Crescent, Menston, to where they flit tomorrow.  _________. We all did a good deal of drinking. I attacked the whisky with some gusto. Janette spoke of the harrowing aspects of cancer and recalled the gruelling deaths of people she has known. I did not find this helpful. We got home at 3am and cooked fish and chips. Both of us feel quite sick.

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Wednesday January 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mum had a very low day and stayed abed, refusing to get out. Dad was quiet and he didn't sit with her as he usually does. [Redaction].

Who should walk in at lunchtime but Graham John Dixon traveling from Doncaster and on his way to Manchester. He ate lunch and I stood swilling ale with him.

to Mabel's for tea. Samuel in his sailor suit. Thick snow everywhere. She spoke of Mum and spoke of faith in God. Dear auntie said she wishes she could take Mum's place. She is 16 years older. I sat like a cabbage eating lemon cake. Ally does most of the talking these days. We got home at about 6:30. Mum was still in bed. Mabel sent her a home grown daffodil.

I phoned Susan to say we would definitely go to Guiseley tomorrow because John and Janette are coming here to give their news to Mum and Dad. She said she would speak to John about his approach to Mama during the day tomorrow because he's going to Thorpe Lane to build a wardrobe.

Down in the bar I sat with Harold. Rob Piper came in. We are going with him and Kath to the managers meeting on January 28. Upstairs we ate cockles and mussels. Mum, laying wide awake in bed, says Dad has been out cold since 9:30.

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Tuesday January 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Snow falling. Horribly cold.

Princess Michael is 40. She says she is known as 'MC' in the family and not as 'Our Val'. MC is of course Marie-Christine.

Mum pottered about in the kitchen making sheep's head broth and dumplings. It is an old Wilson family recipe and now more or less extinct because sheep's heads, like cod roes, are scarce. A great pity. The pub was quiet. Three old men supping ice-cold mild in sub-zero temperatures. We ate at 2. Afterwards Ally and I went out with Samuel and scaled Dewsbury Rd in arctic conditions to buy cod roes and other provisions. Samuel refused to wear gloves and had blue fingers. 

Ally went down and opened the pub at 5:30 and I went down at 8. We sat with Harold Wilkinson and Co. talking about regional dialects, and way that all Londoners think that Yorkshiremen 'work down't pit', eat tripe and onions and wear clogs on the cobbled streets, &c. 

Dad sat reading the Oxford Dictionary of Quotations. He suggested to Mum that we might visit Auntie Mabel tomorrow, but she says she isn't up to it. Later I phoned auntie and she said they might come here at the weekend. Watched 'Edgar Wallace' until 12:30 and ate cheese and biscuits. Still no word from John and Janette. Little buggers.

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Monday January 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Snow has fallen through the night and the moor looks like Gstaad today. Ally took Samuel out to the bank and the market at 9. Poor Maureen downstairs has had one hell of a weekend. Sam (her husband) suffered a heart attack in Rotherham on Friday night, only a mild one, but she's been traveling back and forth visiting. His singing days are numbered. 

Samuel's confidence is growing and he can totter around the lounge from one end to the other. He no longer looks like a baby especially in his short sleeved shirt. He looks like a boy. He brightens our day. God knows how glum we would all be if we didn't have him tottering around. Dave G has sent Sam a birthday card containing a £5 note. The proud godfather doing his duty. Donna Lea has spoken to Ally re toilet paper, &c. She might call in on Thursday evening. We have a list of things for her. 

Pool night. Six players. Christmas has made a mess of our routine 'games night'. Samuel woke at 10:30 and so Maureen had to walk home in the snow. The boy had a bad night, and so did we.

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