Monday June 18, 1979

_. Odious day at the YP. It is rapidly dawning on me just how much work I do in comparison with the vast majority of my colleagues. ______________.

Sarah took a half-day, just to be awkward - bless her. I met Jacq at luncheon at the Ostlers. We get on very nicely. I do delight in her sense of humour. Ate nothing. Came home at 5 - very hot afternoon.

Annie and Arthur Greenhoff, from Mexborough, arrived for the festivities and a full-scale Royal Albert high tea was laid on. They look very much the same as they always did. Little Arthur is the very image of the bald-headed geriatric stooge on the Benny Hill Show. Saw a film on the TV, starring Frank Sinatra and Jacquleine Bisset.

I slept downstairs due to the influx of silver wedding party revellers and turned in about midnight.

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Sunday June 17, 1979

_. 1st after Trinity

Hot, sunny, &c. John phoned at 11:30 to say Maria has been taken into hospital in Stranraer, yesterday. She isn't in labour, but she's had a 'show', whatever that is. It conjured up a vision of my sister-in-law throwing a Royal Command charity performance from her Scottish caravan. john says she will be in hospital for a couple of days. It is very unlikely that he will make it to Mum & Dad's Silver wedding party.

Ally, Sue, Pete and I went to the Half Way House on Hollins Hill and sat in the garden for a couple of hours. Pete remains silent on his wedding plans. Home for 2:30. We sprawled in the garden until dusk. Sue and Pete then departed for Fieldhead Rd to consummate the first Sabbath of their engagement. Ally and I had a Chinese meal with Mama and Papa (£7.20!) and then drank Ginora and various types of vino collapse, until late.

On Sue's return the party became even more jolly. Poor Dad was quite drunk. A stroll into Guiseley followed, which was peculiar.

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Saturday June 16, 1979

_. I left my bed at 10am to feast my gaze upon the Trooping of the Colour spectacle. It's a marvellous event that never changes other than the fact that the poor Queen gets older with the passing of each year. One of these days Her Majesty will be observing the pageant from a bath chair.

At 12:30 Ally and I went to Burley-in-W where I passed the day in Dave's garage 'helping' him strip the engine from his Mini. I didn't do much but at least I gave Dave something to laugh at for the duration of the afternoon. He is such a mellow, mature character.

Dad and the ladies went on a shopping expedition to Otley.

Tonight, despite all that we've said, we went out with Sue and Peter to Dick Hudson's pub, the Hare and Hounds tap room, and finally the Commercial at Esholt. At Esholt Annie Lindley informed me that she's leaving in 6-8 weeks. Things just won't be the same. Poor Ron is in no condition to work. On to the Prachee at White Cross, which was ridiculously extravagant, but amusing.

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Friday June 15, 1979

_. Out tonight with Ally, Sue & Pete to the Drop and then the White Cross. Sue & Pete didn't speak. At 11:30 we returned home in a funereal disposition. Sue stayed the night at P's house. No doubt hacking chunks out of each other into the small hours.

Ally and I watched a film, the name of which escapes me, but it starred Princess Grace of Monaco and Bing Crosby, and it wasn't High Society. We discussed our relationships and our feelings and sat together deep in analytical natterings for hours. In fact the whole thing was like an Open University programme on BBC2.

Retired to bed. Alison and I are going it alone tomorrow.

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Thursday June 14, 1979

_. Have I mentioned the Chancellor's first budget? I must have forgotten. Good old Sir Geoffrey (Howe) has done something with income tax, but I have insufficient intellect to discuss it further.

David, now of Folkestone, is 24 today and I sent him an appropriate birthday card. Tonight I went with Ally and Sue to the Drop and then Oakwood Hall. Mrs Hanson, the buxom landlady of the Drop, commented that I was the most envied man in the pub (a reference to the beauty of Ally and Sue), but I corrected her saying surely they are the most envied women? Mrs H laughed about this a good deal. She laughed a little too long really.

At Oakwood I danced so much that my wrist watch steamed up and stopped. It will never be the same again. Peter came in with Chippy and Dave W. Sue met an imbecile named Tony who attempted to teach me the protocol of chatting up women. Can you imagine? Sue didn't let on that I was her brother, and so we had a laugh at his expense. Home at 2:30 pissed up on cider.

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Wednesday June 13, 1979

_. Peter finally sought parental consent to marry my sister in what can only be described as a dreadful, obnoxious and embarrassing scene this evening. He, the prospective groom, sat afterwards with the word Gloom engraved in capital letters across his forehead. A sense of strangulation hung over us.  To escape the putrid atmosphere Alison and I decamped to the garden where we sat in damp deck chairs purporting to be searching for the poor, destitute missing tortoise. We went on a stroll into Guiseley calling at the off licence for a bottle of Martini.

No sense of excitement or joy was to be found back at home. Dave L telephoned to say he is moving to Folkestone. Is he on the run from someone or something? We discussed Christine B and her marriage and ended up on the subject of plastic buckets.

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Tuesday June 12, 1979

_. I am seriously considering abandoning this journal once and for all. I am just a pathetic mess who has great difficulty in making interesting observations on any subject, either of domestic or national importance. Indeed, you'll find no reference here to President Carter's SALT 2 summit with that nice Mr Podgorny. I am a dead loss. A vast waste of time, ink, and energy goes into this and I really could and should be doing greater things.

Isaac Newton gave us the combustion engine; John Wayne gave us over six billion cowboy epics; Ngaio Marsh gave us all those wonderful 'Poldark' books and the Queen Mum has currently completed 55 years as head of our great Royal House. Just what have I achieved? Precisely, bugger all.

But stop this wallowing, Michael. Think what the neighbours are going through. Kenneth the tortoise has been missing for three days.

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