Thursday December 24, 1981

 Christmas Eve. Snow. YP until 12. Central until 2. Home at 3. Burley in Wharfedale at 5.Guiseley at 6. George & Dragon, Apperley Lane at 8. Splendid dinner.

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Wednesday December 23, 1981

 Pay day. Received lots of money. Vast amounts in fact. Went out at lunchtime, sliding across town, looking for gifts for Ally. I bought her a suspender belt and received some odd glances in the process. Bought a record of Debussy's 'Claire de Lune'. Bought a fountain pen because in the New Year Ally is to keep a diary. Yes, a rival diary. It's a wonderful thought because I hate being the solitary commentator on the earth shattering events occurring in 20th century West Yorkshire. Ally's version of life will no doubt be a healthy competitive narrative, don't you think? After all, didn't Wordsworth's life receive the added complement of his sister Dorothy's writings?

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Tuesday December 22, 1981

 You aren't getting much today. In fact you're getting nothing at all. It is the festive season after all.

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Monday December 21, 1981

 To the YP. Back from the YP. God save the YP. Kiss my arse, the YP. 

Ally came to Leeds to deliver a contract and met me at 2pm. We went to Da Mario's for food. I had a panzerotti and she had a lasagne. Mine was brill.

Life would be such fun if Ally worked in Leeds. She went shopping afterwards and picked me up at 5. She managed to get rid of her awkward present buying.

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Sunday December 20, 1981

 4th Sunday in Advent

Thick snow falling throughout. It's OK for the likes of Bing Crosby but he doesn't have to shift the bleedin' stuff, does he? 

We have the table set, the cocktail cherries ready and expect a nil turnout because of the weather but not so. We had a flickering fire, enough booze to sink a ship, and Ally looking like a debutante from the 1950s.

The first guest to arrive was Mary Moore from across the road. She is a splendidly eccentric spinster who tells us that for a bet she once swam across Dover Harbour on Christmas day. It was too cold she says, because she wasn't properly greased. Others arrived. Cousin Jackie was followed by Sarah and Trevor [unbelieveably] and then the family. A real shindig.  Quite perfect. Dad had to dig the car out and he and Mum came with Lynn, Dave and Frances. Jacq & Paul, Karen and Steve, Dave L, Hilda and Tony the last to arrive and the last to leave. 

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Saturday December 19, 1981

Dickensian?

 Deep and crisp and even. Up very early and left Ally clad in her pale blue nightie. Walked to Charlie Brown's at Girlington and bought a car battery costing £24. The walk was something reminiscent of a lunchtime in a Russian labour camp.

A bright, crisp, and almost Dickensian day. Send for Nicholas Nickleby.

Back at Club Street I inserted the new battery and, as if by divine intervention, old Norman from across the road came staggering past and he took an immediate interest in Audrey's spark plugs, and he fiddled around helpfully. He gave life to the hapless vehicle. I am eternally in his debt. How can we thank him? He walked away in the deep snow with a look of my dear Uncle Albert stamped all over him.

Ally and I to Morrison's. Spend a king's ransom on party food. On to Lazenby's at 11pm. [Tony] Harney was violently sick and collapsed in the bathroom. Otherwise a quiet party. Home at 2am.

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Friday December 18, 1981

 Snow abounds. Christiana Ross was born this day in 1865. To the YP as usual. I have yet to make editor.

Audrey wouldn't start and so we resolved to buy a new car battery tomorrow. We sat watching TV quite calmly knowing full well that we are about to wave goodbye to £22.

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