Moorhouse Inn
Mothering Sunday / St Patrick's Day
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| Archie (left). |
Our evening off. A sumptuous dinner. Poor Mum prodded a Yorkshire pudding but didn't eat. It was all wrenching. I was in bed at midnight when Jim Precious phoned to say that Archie had collapsed and died outside the Station at 11pm after a pool knock-out. What a terrible shock.
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Moorhouse Inn
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| John & Levinyer. |
Quiet afternoon. Margaret and I worked. Archie and Jim in the tap room. Archie still furious about the joke with Sue last night. He doesn't often fall for such little pranks.
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Moorhouse Inn
Lynn, Dave and Sue came to see Mum and Dad this evening. Mum, sitting in her chair, said she has lived a good life, and went on to say that we do not have to live to be old and ancient to have had a contented life. She gave the girls a good talking to and said she did not want tears and that we should all be happy and strong together. Downstairs after this intimate and frank exchange they all seemed relieved and almost elated that Mum had talked to them about her illness. A weight off their shoulders.
Sue and Lynn inspected the decorating in the bar and Archie, on seeing Sue in the tap room, assumed she was Donna Lea, the area manager. It turned into a huge, highly successful leg-pull. Sue, straight faced, told Archie that the tap room was closing as a bar and was to be replaced by an a la carte restaurant. Archie went white, and was furious on being told of the spoof. A busy evening. All jolly. Andy Bowden came in and announced that he was capable of drinking 10 pints of diet pils. Not bloody likely.
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Moorhouse Inn
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Moorhouse Inn
Sunshine. Dad went to Horton to meet a carpet cleaner and telephone engineer. It was a pleasant surprise when Mum appeared in the sitting room dressed and looking lovely ay 10:20. Mr Armitage has really boosted her morale. Dad is amazed that Mum has fallen for such 'conmen' as he refers to Hall and Armitage. 'What good have they done your poor Mum?' he said. Dad cannot appreciate that Mum needs someone or something to cling onto outside the family - someone who appreciates her terrible plight. At 11 Dr Smith appeared and I sat in on his chat with Mum. She told him she couldn't sleep, eat or walk. He just nodded and coughed into his briefcase. What could he say? He gave her a prescription for sleeping pills and water tablets to deal with the swelling in her ankles. She told him that Armitage doesn't want her to take the latter pills. She told Smith of her depression. He told her it was only to be expected because she must be so frustrated to have her active young life shattered. He told her not to feel guilty at living with us and 'putting on us' because, he added: 'if the situation was reversed you'd look after them, wouldn't you?' She agreed. I said very little. It wasn't my place to. I took the doctor down and off he went. Dad came back at 4:30 with a large cheese plant flapping in the back of the car. Mum complained of feeling exhausted and took to her bed. Maureen worked 5:30 to 8 and then Ally and I went down. It was a quiet day. We only took £185 from both sessions. I felt particularly glum tonight. _____. On the juke box I played 'Unchained Melody' by Al Hibbler. Ally phoned Bessie. They are going to Cheltenham Races tomorrow. Bessie has blood pressure and pains. Kissed Mum goodnight. She had taken two new pills. To bed at 11:15 with Lady Longford's biography of HM and a large glass of brandy and dry (ginger).
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Moorhouse Inn
Up at breakfast with my wife, son, and Selina Scott on the TV. She (Selina) always looks as though she's spent the night with the Royal Green Jackets, or just completed a spell in Holloway.
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| Gorbachev: ruling until next century? |
Mum was supposed to be seeing a Mr Armitage, FRCS in Keighley but was too weak. After a call from Mrs Hall she was told that Mr Armitage will come here at 9 o'clock tomorrow.
Dr Smith is also coming here tomorrow from the clinic at Beeston.
Dad was out walking with Samuel when at 12 Uncle Peter appeared in his overalls to see Mum. I first went upstairs and asked Mum whether she wanted to see her brother and after what seemed like a long hard think she agreed. I showed him up. He kissed her and sat with her. _________. He seemed very shocked by her appearance.
The decorators arrived here. At least twelve of them. The tap room was the first room to receive treatment. They say they will be hard at it for a week. I can hardly wait because we have lived in near squalor for a year.
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Moorhouse Inn
3rd Sunday in Lent
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| Andrew: licentiousness? |
The Prince Edward, a Duke of Cambridge-to-be, is 21 today. He looks very much like the Queen. HM can be very proud of her sons. Only Prince Andrew shows any signs of developing that Hanoverian strain of licentiousness. I have the recurring nightmare that Andrew goes off and marries a Cockney beauty queen.
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Moorhouse Inn
My first Saturday afternoon behind the bar in ages. Worked with Margaret. It was dead too. Archie's vitriolic behaviour had us in fits of merriment. Ally upstairs ironing like a _______.
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| Ted the Grass. |
In Stevenage a public house called Edward the Confessor is known locally to young people of the town as 'Ted the Grass'. That's funny.
Someone asked the Duke of Gloucester whether he thought we should return the Elgin Marbles to Athens and he is reported to have responded: 'No, it would be more sensible to ship the rest of the Parthenon here.' Bloody marvellous.
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Moorhouse Inn
David Baker is 29 today. Mum thought he might phone to thank her for his birthday card but he did not. Lynn phoned to say they had been to the zoo at Knaresborough and were very disappointed at what they found. The animals were ailing and slumped around gasping for breath in their cages.
Auntie Mabel is 66 today. As expected, she appeared at 1pm with the Harwoods for lunch which they had upstairs. Mum looked weary and sat in her armchair as we ate. Auntie M had a very large ploughman's lunch. ______. Frank borrowed our nuptials video to transfer to Betamax cassette. Dad sat very quietly.
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Full Moon
Moorhouse Inn
Little Lord Snowdon is 55 today. They say that Princess Margaret is back on the cigs. It would be foolish of HRH to say the least.
A gang of Egyptians are buying Harrods.
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Moorhouse Inn
_________. Mum is hopelessly 'down'. It is Lynn's 27th birthday. It is the fact that it's her daughter's birthday that has so upset Mum today. She was weeping in bed at lunchtime and I made some attempt to comfort her. She said writing Lynn's birthday card was a wrench. "I won't be here next year, will I?"
Lynn and Dave are on holiday this week - at Scarborough today, and they called in with the girls after their seaside jaunt. Mum broke down in front of Lynn too.
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Moorhouse Inn
I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to climb out of bed. I had to persuade Maureen to open up at 11 and I stood around red-eyed. I made a lasagne and pies, and fed Samuel. Poor Terry (Teri/Terri/Theresa/Teresa??) came in to work and I sprawled upon the settee and slept. Ally found some inner strength and climbed out of bed to cook. Audrey enjoyed it and found it a huge joke. Then, at 2pm, when the calm of post-lunch activity descended who should appear but David and Jean Watts with the Dowager Watts and Hannah. I could have died. We gave them coffee and attempted conversation, but I had to make an exit to spew up. Have you ever tried to vomit quietly? Back in the lounge I think my indisposition had gone undetected. David W is going to college in Leeds on Tuesdays and they will be back in a few weeks when we will be in a better situation.
Mum and Dad came back at 5. She is always 'done in' after travelling.
Andy Bowden's last night. He attempted to persuade me to buy him a drink at 11pm but I told him to be gone. Staggered to bed bleary-eyed and at deaths door.
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Moorhouse Inn
The miners strike has fizzled out after a futile year and they have gone back to work, on bended knees. Serves 'em right.
Driving lesson at 9. Ally got a helper in the kitchen today. She's called Terry (Teresa), one of the nice lounge customers.
Sir Iain Moncreiffe of that Ilk has joined the choir invisible. Succeeded in the baronetcy by Lord Erroll and in the clan chieftainship by his second son the Hon Peregrine. Only last month Sir Iain was accused of having made vulgar suggestions to the dear prime minister in the Palace of Holyroodhouse, which he fervently denied.
Jill and Tim called in at 8 for half an hour. It was Andy Bowden's penultimate session. At 11 we found ourselves continuing in the revelry and the three of us, Andy and Ally and I hit the Diet Pils with a vengeance. It was soon 4:14am and we were pissed as arseholes. Andy is a stimulating friend.
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Moorhouse Inn
2nd Sunday in Lent
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| with dear Phyllis. |
At 3 I drove Ally and Sam to Pudsey where we spent an hour at Wilsby. Mum was bright and pretty, and sitting in the bay window eating an orange. Hilda is such a good tonic. Tony busy as ever. Di came in covered in muck from renovating her Calverley home. Sam was hot and petty. He cried on seeing Uncle Tony and pulled a large 'pet lip' on catching sight of Pepper, the frustrated terrier. Dad looked pale and fed up. Home for prawn cocktails, chops, &c. by candlelight. Snoozed afterwards but struggled down at 7 to do my bit.
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Moorhouse Inn
We were both in foul tempers at breakfast and escaped the close confines of the Moorhouse and went with haste to Bradford at 11:30 where Ally shopped at Linfood and afterwards we went to Club St for a fish and chip lunch on the floor. Samuel did very well with a plate on his knees and a tea towel improvising as a bib. He loves investigating at Club St and soaks up the happiness and tranquility of the place, our haven for 5 years. Thank God we have held on to this retreat. We can regain our sanity and squat like monks, if need be. To Cheap 'n Cheerful where we bought a large, sturdy bed frame and a tiny bookcase for £22. Then to a lovely little place called Ali Baba Carpets where we bought a bed base for £35 after a car ride to a warehouse with a little Pakistani salesman. He could have been taking us anywhere. This stuff is for Club St so tat we can stay overnight during our Easter break and Mum can retreat here if need be.
Steady evening with Mavis. Ally was upstairs spring cleaning. Phoned Mum at Pudsey. No visitors today. Hilda was babysitting for Hayley at Karen's and Tony was doing his paperwork. I said we might drop in tomorrow.
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St David's Day
Moorhouse Inn
The first of March. I am very gloomy and black today. Mum is declining rapidly. I cannot foresee her living to see my 30th birthday. Last night she was a pathetic sight. We phoned Lynn and Susan to warn them of mother's weakening condition. Both understand the situation. When they saw at Christopher's party on Wednesday they saw a distinct change for the worse. Sue had a bad day yesterday. Hilda must be a good tonic for Mum because she will eat when staying at Pudsey and get out of bed for breakfast, where he she lies helplessly in bed. Ally now thinks that this is not the place for Mum. I phoned Auntie Hilda later, and spoke to Mum who was so different from the despairing soul of last Thursday. She sat all day reminiscing over old photographs and talking about Uncle Albert, &c. Jill and Tim say they have never seen Hilda so low and depressed as she has been since Christmas.
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Moorhouse Inn
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| The Brigadier Gerard: 'Posh' |
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Moorhouse Inn
Back to York with Farting Frank. We have exactly the same opinion of the Pirie family and it is so refreshing to meet a person who doesn't idolise Pirie as the Moorhouse staff and punters do. Frank is one of those who resents all authority and he looks upon Sam Smiths as a mere stepping stone to better things. He is of the opinion that the HCTB course is a complete waste of time and is thinking of walking out if it becomes any 'sillier'. To do that would be a grievous mistake. We all assembled for coffee and roared with laughter. Managers together have such good stories to relate. We had another task to perform and I chose the chipping of a potato. Lunched in town with Barrie and Mel. Barrie, at Levenshulme, is but a stones throw from the Hollywood at Edgeley. What a large, jovial character he is. Sensational developments followed after lunch when John (?) from the Master Cooper and Farting Frank informed Don that they did not want to continue with the course, and they walked out. Don, was clearly stunned, and we all hung our heads in embarrassment at the childish act. Mike Walker will go through the roof. Home on the train with Debbie, who is a mixed bag. She fired questions at me on all topics, and loudly, which other passengers found gripping.
Christopher's party was just too much for poor Mum.
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Moorhouse Inn
Frank Marshall, the incumbent of the Horse & Jockey at Ossett, came here at 8:30 and off we went to York for three days with the Hotel and Catering Training Board. Frank is one of those down to earth sort of people, with a severe bowel disorder. The car windows had to be wound down on our journey because of the ghastly fumes emanating from Mr Marshall's rear. We were late arriving at Stonebow House. Poor Mike Walker was just finishing a talk and making his excuses to disappear, and we sat - about 12 of us - around a table with Don Bywater and a plump blond called Clare. I sat with Frank (right) and dear Debbie Bailey (left). The only other faces I recognised were Barrie Ashworth (the Bluebell, Levenshulme) and ear-studded Mel (the Roebuck, Rochdale). Don, puffing a cigar, gave us a film show 'Marie and the manager', which we all hoped would be a 'bluey'. Sadly, it dwelt on employer/employee relations. To the Hansom Cab for lunch. This afternoon we broke into two groups. I was with Frank, Debbie and Barrie and we each demonstrated a small task. I showed Barrie how to create a ham sandwich. Talk about giggles. These few days are going to be a hysterical adventure, and a welcome break from pulling ale day and night. To was home for 5pm just as Ally was opening the doors. Knackered and exhausted. Sat and had a few Diet Pils. Mum, horrribly weak, was determined to bake Christopher's birthday cake. Hilda had phoned Ally who told her how 'low' Mum was feeling and so at 7:30 in walked Hilda & Tony (T dropped H with Mum then went on to Ossett to see Dutch Nell, a friend). After closing Ally and I had a Chinese, and Mum set about icing Christopher's cake at 11pm. It was too much for her. She was breathless, and a stooped figure in the kitchen, like a 93 year-old. Hilda is such a good tonic for her. Dad's taking Mum to Pudsey on Thursday for three or four days.
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Moorhouse Inn, Leeds
Driving lesson at 9am with Karen Hudson, who is very much into plastic jewelry. A personable young lady who puts me at ease. Driving instructors seem to be obsessed by chewing gum. Is it good for the nerves?
Frank Marshall phoned to say he will collect me at dawn instead of me having to find my own way to Ossett, which is good. We will be able to have a chat on the subject of our mutual predecessor, the ghastly Pirie.
Little Christopher is three on Wednesday and it is under debate as to whether Mum is capable of attending the birthday party. It will be riotous and exhausting. It is a tragedy that she no longer enjoy her grandchildren and that none, except JPH, will remember her. It is so hard to accept that her young life is to be stubbed out. It makes me want to go out and kick the first wrinkled old pensioner I bump into.
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Moorhouse Inn, Leeds LS11 5NQ 5th Sunday after Trinity Bessie phoned. Andrew and Lorraine are to live in un-marital bliss in a £29,000 mais...
