Monday October 15, 1979

_. Hullo again. I'm just about cheesed off with the news these days. The newspapers are dominated by the Zimbabwe-Rhodesia bore-out conference and the saga of the 'flying delegate' at Lancaster House. Yes, one poor member of Bishop Abel Muzorewa's team, was so bored by the endless squabbling, that he ended his life by leaping from the roof of Lancaster House, leaving a nasty pin-striped mess in central London. Who cares about this pin-prick of a country in the midst of darkest, steaming Africa anyway? I certainly do not.

Sweet Ally came here tonight. To Lynn and Dave's to admire the new chocolate coloured velvet curtains. We watched the film 'For Pete's Sake'. This is a film of dear and sweet remembrance for Lynn and Dave. They saw the film on their very first date in 1974. Barbra Streisand of course is delightful comedy.

Home with Ally at 11:15.

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Sunday October 14, 1979

_. Up at a reasonable hour and ate kippers and drank gallons of tea. Ally surfaced some time later and we decided to go for a romp on Ilkley Moor to freshen up. Off we went, but Ally's clothes, especially her shoes, did not lend themselves to moorland hiking and so we abandoned any serious adventure and found a van selling hot dogs. From here we went to Club Street where I taped some records and the Anne Nightingale Show on Radio One. We are sick of the same old cassette [taped five weeks ago] which includes the 5:30 evening news which we now know by heart.

Ally took a bath and then rummaged through her old letters going back ten years. She found a letter from me, written in March 1978 when Jacq and I were planning a trip to Winchester. A dreadfully pompous letter.

Went to the fish and chip shop at Westfield [Yeadon] then took a camp bed back to Audrey and Henry Baker's house on Old Pool Bank. Poor Ally was nodding off listening to Audrey's monologue on the neighbours. On afterwards to Lynn and Dave's. She is washed out and has a cold.

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Saturday October 13, 1979

_.Up at 11 to find David G and Garry taking breakfast with Mum & Dad. It seems that Stockport County are playing Bradford City this afternoon and they thought a combined visit was in order.  Ally and Sue 'hurriedly' dressed and Pete shot off home to get changed and by 12 we were all in the White Cross. Mum and Dad came too. We were there a couple of hours but then Mum and Dad left because John appeared to say he'd brought the children to say goodbye. Off they went home, and we joined them later. Catherine is beautiful and peach-like.

David and Garry went off to Bradford to watch Stockport lose by 6 goals to 1. We had a family party to bid farewell to the Scottish branch of the family, and the football supporters returned after the match, not in the least dejected by their defeat. I suppose that supporting Stockport you get used to serious humiliation.

We had salad followed by a trifle. JPH went wild about the latter. Especially the cream.

Out at 7:30 to the White Cross. Dave and Garry only had one drink then left to meet Billy at the Armoury in Stockport. Dave's opinion of the White Cross: "a bloody doctor's waiting room."

Ally was in a beastly mood all day and insisted on trailing back to Bradford just to change her shoes and brush her teeth. Mum and Dad were at the Cow & Calf with Jim and Margaret and so we went there before Ally and I went on to the Smith's Arms at Beckwithshaw at 9:30. We were supposed to meet Sarah and Carol J but they didn't appear, and so we went on to Stephanie Ferguson's party at Leathley. Sarah and Carol were there in the kitchen swigging wine. We stood leaning on the sink, and Ally clammed up and had nothing to say to my work mates. Stephanie was disappointed too because many guests hadn't materialized due to the fog. We left the party, to get air, and sat in a ditch in the spitfire in the dark. __________.

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Friday October 12, 1979

_. After leaving Oakwood Hall in the early hours of this morning Ally and I sat on the wall at the top of the garden watching the stars. I can never see the so-called 'Great Bear' or the 'Ironing Board' or any of the other formations. I have always been able to see things clearly but my artistic creativity seems to conflict with my apparent blindness to the wonders of the firmament.

David G phoned tonight. He's having a few difficulties with Janice who seems to dislike his drinking. I laugh a great deal at this. She clearly has no common sense. David does live in a house specifically set aside for the consumption of alcoholic beverages. An atheist should avoid living in a monastery, and wherever possible vegetarians should steer clear of abattoirs. Janice doesn't want to be included in the Ibiza trip next summer. It looks to me that the relationship might be in decline.

John walked in this evening. He arrived late last night at Ridgeway, but only made his presence known this evening. Mum was disgruntled at this.  John, Maria, Ally, Lynn, Dave and I went down to the White Cross and then to the White Swan at Yeadon [a revolting place]. Maria, with a new hair-do, wanted to see Andy, Linda and Carol Smith, and Carol's husband [Trevor] who frequent this obscure West Yorkshire tavern. I enjoyed myself chatting with Brian Gilks, who I haven't seen since the Bill Dixon painting days in 1972-3. He told some hilarious jokes. The other surprise was Andrew Dean, whom I haven't seen since 1972. His voice has finally broken. Home with the mob for drinks and music.

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Thursday October 11, 1979

_. Dreadfully drunken night. Thick fog. Out at 8:30 with Ally to the Drop where we stood at the bar with Martyn Knipe and his girlfriend, Alison. He's no longer in the navy, and now a professional golfer at Rawdon. From here we went to Oakwood Hall which was hot and packed with merry revellers. We had a daft half hour juggling with lemons and generally performing like a circus act. At one point we attracted quite a large audience. Saw little Janet Simon, who was horribly pissed, with a friend celebrating her 21st birthday. Janet is an odd girl. She has many of Susan's mannerisms and traits, but a crude version of my sweet sister. She's told Susan I talk 'posh'. Home at nearly 2am.

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Wednesday October 10, 1979

_. JPH has been spending the evening with his grandmother again. We sat drawing together. It was noted by the others just how bossy my nephew is with me. "Do this" and "do that", "you sit here", "you have this pen, and I'll have this pen" &c. I must look like a soft touch - a walk over- even to a three year-old. It's going to be so sad next week when he returns to Scotland. Mum will be distraught - she dotes on little John.

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Tuesday October 9, 1979

_. Swarms of wasps are invading the house. Dad spent the morning painting the tricycle he is renovating for JPH's Christmas present. He isn't very happy with it because he cannot get the colours to shine even with a varnish gloss.  I don't suppose little John will object just so long as the wheels go round.

Maria brought the children here at lunchtime. I saw a definite change for the better in Catherine. The doc saw her yesterday and told her that baby's heart is now quite normal. JPH played out with Richard from next door.

To the YP at 5. ________. Coming home at 12 the taxi was stopped twice in road blocks by police questioning motorists about the Yorkshire Ripper. The taxi driver talked about photography and football in the early 1900s, and the advanced driving test he'd just completed, and how wonderful the Pope's visit to Ireland and the United States had been. In fact he was a gold mine of information. His grandfather died last year, aged 94. 'A good age' he kept repeating. I cannot see anything good about being 94. I may feel differently about this on April 5, 2049.

Ate cheese on toast and drank a milky concoction and went up to bed with Hitler. The British politicians from the 1930s, the appeasers, really should have been hanged at Nuremberg along side the Nazis. The stupid sods can never be forgiven for appeasing the fascists and the blood of millions stains the hands of Eden, Simon and Chamberlain.

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