Friday August 10, 1979

_. Gruesome headache. Did very little all morning and sat at my desk feeling sick and shattered. Kathleen is away, at Auntie Mary's funeral, which is convenient. I sat at my desk, with my feet up blatantly reading volume 2 of Churchill's 'History of the English Speaking Peoples' and praising God that Mrs Mary McHale had chosen this day to be reunited with her dear husband Tom. R.I.P.

To lunch with Sarah and Eileen to Da Mario's for pizzas. Shared a table with a couple of wasteful creatures who poked and prodded at their food with a total lack of interest. I felt nauseous. Leaving the restaurant we bumped into Jacq at a bus stop. ___________.

This evening Ally and I decided upon a pub crawl. We did the Hare and Hounds [I spoke to Judith], the White Cross, the Shoulder of Mutton, the Commercial [Annie and Ron Lindley have gone taking all with them]. Home at 10:50 to watch the Marx Brothers in 'Duck Soup' - excellent. Bed at 1:20.

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Thursday August 9, 1979

_. Just Ally and I to the Cow and Calf and later Oakwood Hall. ________. We did not go out until after 9pm but made up for it in the bar. She drank like a large fish. I overheard a girl in the bar confide in a friend that my Hawaiian-style shirt resembled 'two dishcloths stitched together'.

At Oakwood we continued down our destructive path towards vagrancy and destitution drinking Pernod and cider in obnoxious proportions. We behaved like savages on the dance floor. Groping, kissing, etc. It resembled a scene from a 1942 film where the young army captain is taking leave of his bride after two days leave to go get himself shot in the Balkans. I was Tyrone Power.

Coffee and sandwiches at 3:30am.

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Wednesday August 8, 1979

_. Margaret and Jim came here this evening instead of the traditional Thursday because they are venturing to Redcar tomorrow. They do not enthuse about the prospects of a wet day at the races. I bet they end up at the White Cross at lunch time.

I have neglected my royal deliberations recently. What with the Queen's victorious visit to Zambia and the escapades of the Prince of Wales and Prince Andrew with the Guinness sisters I have had ample opportunity to lecture, but have held back. You must forgive this boring patch.

I retired to bed at 12 full to bursting with pork pies and salad sandwiches. I will resemble Orson Welles before long.

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Tuesday August 7, 1979

_. People are telling me I'm putting on weight. I'm paying now for being a ten stone weakling for my first quarter of a century. Is 12st excessive for a 6ft 25 year old? On a happier note a trainee journalist approached me today and mistook me for a classmate. The pimply 19 year-old youth thought I was a teenager.

Took a bath. Early to bed.

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Monday August 6, 1979

_. Bank Holiday in Scotland & Irish Republic

A wet, hideous day. Home at five to see Hilda and Tony who came over to collect Ruby and Arthur. Maria and the children come here too. She misses John. The Gadsbys make off with the Pearces to Pudsey. Ruby cannot be long for this world.

JPH stayed to tea and ate roast beef, chips, salad, and mounds of chocolate cake. At 7 I carried the monster home to Ridgeway so that he could talk to his Papa - who phoned just as we arrived.

Molly went on for what seemed like ages on the pros and cons of buying a swing for the garden. I sipped my ale peacefully, trying not to glaze over.

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Sunday August 5, 1979

_. 8th Sunday after Trinity

Never have I felt so diabolical. I regained consciousness at 11am. Poor Ally was next to me shrouded in sheets and resembled the tomb of Princess Charlotte of Wales in St George's Chapel, Windsor.

Later we took presents to Karen & Steve's house, but we didn't stay long. Came home in the Spitfire with roof down to blow away the cobwebs. We collapsed onto the sofa listening to Tchaikovsky's 'Romeo & Juliet' , but this tranquil scene was shattered by the arrival of Maria with JPH and Catherine. They walked from Ridgeway, Maria pushing the pram. Mum and Dad had gone out for the day into the Dales with Ruby and Arthur. Maria laughed at our pathetic state.

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Saturday August 4, 1979

_. Lynn phoned at breakfast time to say they were safely in Cornwall. Susan slept from Shipley to Dartmoor where they had a moorland breakfast.

I tore up roses in the garden and various other blooms and made floral arrangements for our button-holes. Mum and Dad left for Pudsey at 11:15 with Ruby and Arthur, and Ally and I went up to Morrisons to cash a cheque and didn't get to the church until noon, just before the bride arrived. Pudsey Parish Church was looking somewhat tatty. I haven't entered the place since the bride's parents married here on Christmas Eve 1955.

The wedding breakfast took place at the Civic Centre. Ham salad followed by trifle. At 4pm some inconsiderate guest let off a stink bomb, which brought the proceedings to a sudden end. We sought refuge at Auntie Hilda's where we had drinks on the lawn. Hilarious. Something of a piss-up. I wore Mum's hat, and Tony was wearing a fetching blue creation. Mum met her old friend Shirley Hardaker.

Later the party continued at Farsley Celtic Football Club. Me wearing my Hawaiian-style shirt. A tolerable evening. Back to Hilda's where Ally and I drank rum and orange with Jill and Tim. We all slept in various corners of the house, but not until about 4am.

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