Monday December 3, 1979

_. Susan has a chill or something worse. It's always the same as we near Christmas. Last Christmas was particularly gruesome in this respect. A quiet day at the YP. Sarah and Carol J were thrilled seeing Dame Edna on Saturday, but not impressed by Sir Les Patterson. That was only to be expected really.

News: Joyce Grenfell is dead at 69. Senator Edward Kennedy says the USA should not have offered refuge to the poor Shah of Iran, whom he has labelled a criminal and a torturer. Mrs Thatcher is having a battle at the EEC summit in Dublin. A wealthy tycoon's wife has leapt to her death from an aircraft. Serena Balfour, of Studley Royal, gave birth to a daughter, Consuelo, on November 29. It is reported that the Prince of Wales is to take up residence in an apartment at Kensington Palace from next February. Why hasn't Charles moved into the magnificent Chevening in Kent? It does seem odd that this vast mansion lies empty and HRH continues to dwell in cramped condition with his mother at 'Buckminster Castle' [as Sir Les Patterson calls it].

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Sunday December 2, 1979

_. Wet. Dave looked ghastly. The two of us went for a walk down the lane. At 1pm Lynn, Dave, Ally and I walked to the Plough, with an umbrella and plastic waterproof clothing. Neil, the barman, grinned from ear to ear even though his car is now a sorry, shadow of its former self. Back to Chillandham Cross at 2:30 for a large lunch of turkey and all the trimmings. Something of a feast to be exact. Graham succumbed and retired to his bed, missing the dessert course. Afterwards we did the washing up, packed the car with all manner of junk. At about 6pm we departed weighed down with balls for Ally's Christmas tree, lamps made from old wine bottles, and tins packed with Christmas cake. Home at 11. Hilda and Tony were being entertained. Bed at 12.

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Saturday December 1, 1979

_. Last night I slept behind Graham's wardrobe encased in a sleeping bag like a bedouin tribesman. Graham meanwhile slept in his very large bed.

At 11 Ally left for Graham and Charlotte's wedding in a furious temper. She clearly did not want to go. Lynn, Dave and I went into Winchester to shop and spent an hour in a pub, The Old Vine, where the staff were frightful. The barman would have been more at home in the Third Reich than an ancient Winchester tavern. Lynn consumed vast amounts of brandy and Babycham. A woman, in the ladies toilet, grabbed Lynn and accused her of being Olivia Newton-John. Went to collect Ally at 3 but she wasn't ready and so we went back at 4.

At 7:30 we went out, the four of us, to a pub at Micheldever, and then at 9:30 to the Plough at Itchen Abbas, all singing Christmas carols and very much under the influence. We left at 11, to Frank Sinatra on the juke box, and Lynn waltzing around the bar with Graham. We asked Neil [the excellent barman who performs wonderful elephant impressions] to join us at Chillandham Cross but he sadly crashed his car on the short journey and was unavoidably detained on his neighbour's lawn. Back at the house we drank gallons of gin. Dave disappeared and Graham, Gill and I discussed the YP and the great Gordon Linacre at some length. We sat with gin until after 4am.

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Friday November 30, 1979

_. St Andrew's Day, eh? Felt exhausted at the YP and only just survived until 4:30. At home I hurriedly packed things into a bag. Lynn and Dave arrived and we went first to Ally's and loaded up the mini with the presents she's bought the family and then down the motorway in driving rain to Hampshire. I slept most of the way. The Northamptonshire police stopped us to say we had a brake light out, but allowed us on our way without too much harassment. They obviously had no idea who my father is. Arrive at Chillandham Cross at 1am to a reception committee of Mrs Dixon and Graham.

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Thursday November 29, 1979

_. Took a half day and met Ally in Leeds at 12:15. We went to see Dame Edna at the Keyboards shop on the Headrow where 'she' is signing copies of 'her' new song book. The fans and photographers were clamouring round but Ally and I were well positioned and I managed to shake the great Dame by the hand. Blimey, I will never wash my grubby little paw again. The cameras from 'Look North' recorded the event and at 6pm we actually appeared on TV but we failed to tune in.

Shopping later Ally bought five or six Christmas presents, you know, the usual Marks and Spencer pullovers, revolting nylon shirts for her tasteless brother. An LP for Andrew and a frilly nightie for Mrs D. I bought a soft, cuddly dog for Catherine and a sepia print for Lynn & David.

On to Lidget Green for a peculiar dinner which included half a pound of cheese. I fear we are turning into rodents. On to the Drop, then Pine Tops. With Mum, Dad, Jim and Margaret. Ally and I sat snuggled together with an old pamphlet of speeches given by King George V during his silver jubilee year in 1935. So romantic.

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Wednesday November 28, 1979

_. Spent the day at the YP discussing Dame Edna with some of the survivors. Stephanie Ferguson thought it was the funniest thing ever. Our banter persuaded Sarah to book for her and Richard [Burke] on Saturday, and then Carol J got tickets too.

Looking forward to our weekend in Martyr Worthy with Lynn and Dave.

To bed with Adolf Hitler, but only managed about three pages before I was out cold.

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Tuesday November 27, 1979

_. To the Grand Theatre, Leeds, tonight with Ally, Dave L and Marita. A thrilling performance by Barry Humphries. Dame Edna is now my number one lady. I cannot recall ever seeing anything so hilarious in the whole of my life. Dame Edna's wicked and witty tongue had us all falling about. Ally was crying with laughter, and I could hear David and Marita wheezing behind. The performance lasted from 8pm until eleven and it included a 'gladioli throwing' episode and an appearance by the grotesque Sir Les Patterson, the Australian Cultural Attache to the Court of St James's. He spat and blubbered all over the first three rows, scratched his balls, picked his nose and swore like a trooper. The dialogue was brilliant, but some people did walk out of the theatre, apparently in disgust.

Afterwards it was too late to go for a drink and so we bid our farewells to Dave and Marita and went on to Guiseley. Marita invited us to a gathering on December 5, at the Albert in Yeadon, to celebrate her nuptials with Mr Matthews. Marita always has to be different, having a stag party for her male acquaintances.

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