Monday December 24, 1979

_. Left home at 6:30am to have breakfast with Sarah at Ivory Towers. To the office feeling atrocious. Did minimal work until 11 and then we moved behind the filing cabinets to have a few drinks and exchange gifts in the age old tradition.

At 12:30 I met Ally and we went to Parker's. It wasn't busy considering that today is the most alcoholic day in the piss-artist's calendar. We were joined by Sarah, Carol and a pregnant Eileen. On to the abominable Regent at Chapel Allerton, where Sarah and Carol did a disappearing act. The Regent is always full of painted whores. Back to Guiseley at 3pm with the top down on the spitfire. I hailed 'happy Christmas' to bemused pedestrians.

A full house at home. JPH was glued to the TV. I collapsed in a chair and slipped in and out of consciousness until I gave in at 10:30 and went to bed leaving Ally with Mum, Dad and John.

-=-

Sunday December 23, 1979

_. 4th in Advent

Ally moved in for the duration of the Yuletide festival.

Lynn and Dave had a party tonight at Burley. By combining the families [Bakers and Rhodeses] none of us enjoyed it quite as much as we should. _____. John and Maria appeared but M got a lift home with Chris Baker, leaving John in the bossom of his family. John can drink whisky at a phenomenal pace. We all stood in the kitchen exchanging jokes and various stories at which Jim Nason was a central figure. Back at Pine Tops Ally and I sat up until dawm.

-=-

Saturday December 22, 1979

_. Ally and I were in Bradford all day concluding the Christmas shopping horror. The whole day was a nightmare, like a scene from 'War and Peace'.

Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter came for dinner to Club St, at 8. A few drinks around the record player. Nothing outrageous occurred and they all left at about 12. We sat up until after 3.

-=-

Friday December 21, 1979

_. Ally did some Chrissie shopping in Leeds and collected me at 4:30. We went to Guiseley and found Mum and Dad sat by the light of the Christmas tree hand in hand. Dad was very emotional on the subject of Uncle Albert [Wilson], who died 10 years ago on Dec 29. At 9:30 Ally and I went to the White Cross where Peter and Jim and a few work mates are coming to the end of a 12 hour drinking session. Jim and Peter came back to Pine Tops.

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Thursday December 20, 1979

_. Up and out to the YP early to avoid Dad. I phoned Mum at Burley but she didn't answer. I then phoned Lynn. ____. At 7pm Mum phoned me, then Dave came here to collect Dad to take him to Burley for a 'reunion'. Ally came at 8:30 and we went to the Drop. Some hideous Carol singers came in. I could have strangled them. On to Oakwood. Got thoroughly sozzled. Found a wheel trim and brought it home for Dad, at 3am. I stole into Susan's room and she informed me that Mum & Dad are once again under the same roof.  Such a relief. My silly parents - behaving like Rod Stewart and Britt Ekland.

-=-

Wednesday December 19, 1979

_. Wasn't that a delightful little diversion? For the first time in the seven year history of this journal I handed over the pen to another. Subsequently, the entries for the last few days have not been my own, but those of Miss Alison Mary Dixon.

It was a ghastly day... or should I say night? Out at 7pm with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J to Salvo's. I had first been to tea with Auntie Delia at Ivory Towers. The annual YP library Christmas 'nosh up' is always a failure, and even Kathleen's planned absence didn't help. We spent £10 from the kitty which was donated by an obliging Swede for whom we made photostats of the Yorkshire Ripper cuttings. In other words we dined out courtesy of the Yorkshire Ripper. Despite the paper hats and plastic whistles the evening was a bore. At home Mum and Dad were extremely frosty. Things haven't been too good lately and the sound of raised voices penetrated the bedroom wall, and I realised only to well that I was in for 'one of those nights'. Mum got up and drove to Burley.

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Tuesday December 18, 1979

_. [In Ally's own hand]

"After a good two hours sleep in Michael's bed it was once again the hour of doom! I struggled to leave the warm folds of the continental quilt, and so, as usual these days, I was late for work. Just for a change, the evening was spent in each others company beginning with a visit to 7, Lawn Road, where we were greeted with delight and tumblers of whisky. I had Christmas cards waiting for me from the Pinder residence in Southampton addressed to 'C/O Mr & Mrs D. Baker'.

Michael and I left the always busy Bakers ironing and screwing brass handles on kitchen cupboard doors to spend a couple of hours in togetherness. But, as if fate wants to thwart of solitude, George Waite joined us for the remainder of the evening at the Fox and Hounds.

I think I have said enough now, so.... just remember ... Miss Melissa Teasdale, a loved one, thanks the author of this journal Michael Lawrence Rhodes for the very great honour bestowed!

-=-