Saturday April 17, 1982

 Feel hideous. I desperately tried to look lively because the success of Ally's weekend depends on my well-being. After breaskfast we went to Malham where I deposited my breakfast outside the Lister Arms. We drove across vast expanses of open moorland for me to make a spectacle of myself, on hands and knees, surrounded by hikers in the bustling village. We went to the Buck Inn and then to the top of Malham Cove. We sat taking in the view eating Mars bars. On to Settle for petrol and then back to Starbotton where we slept until 8 o'clock. In the bar at 9 we had scampi and chips. Three ageing homosexuals couldn't stop staring at me, and then we were cornered by a trio from Liverpool until 12. To bed giggling.

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Friday April 16, 1982

 Sunshine. Up at 7:30. Full-English breakfast. We are always nervous before weddings. I recall Ally shaking before Jill and Tim's nuptials, and yet we didn't take fright at our own joining. To Leeds at 10:30. The YP building told us it was 60 degrees F.

The bride.

It was my first experience of a register office wedding. Like a cross between a crematorium and a cinema. Piped music. __________. A conveyor belt of ceremonies. One bride queueing, middle-aged and surrounded by offspring, was drawing heavily on a cigarette, and blowing the smoke through the wedding veil covering her face. Sarah arrived at about 11 in Richard's Rolls-Royce. The bride was in a cream suit. Delia exclaimed that my black velvet jacket looked as though I'd slept in it.

To the Roman Gardens Restaurant in Horsforth. A curious table seating plan saw Ally and I on different tables for lunch. I sat facing Eileen Robertshaw. _____________.Back to the the Collis pile. Tea was offered, but I only drink alcohol at weddings. We left Delia's at 6:30 and drove straight to Starbotton, where we sat the bar of the Fox & Hounds drinking like fish. We looked ridiculous sitting in a Dales inn dressed in our wedding 'finery'. Mrs Heap, a scatty Lancashire woman, took us to our bedroom. We didn't dwell long before returning to the bar. 

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Thursday April 15, 1982

 Sunny day. We breakfasted on poached eggs. YP busy owing to Sarah's absence. Ally phoned at lunchtime. She has spoken to a Mrs Heap at the Fox & Hounds at Starbotton, and that subsequently we are going to the Yorkshire Dales at the weekend. I am very happy about it.We have toyed with the idea for a while, but had recently decided against it. Ally always makes the final decision in these things. I walked around with a spring in my step thinking about Theakston's ale and the rolling moors.

Home at 6 and we feverishly packed. Ate chicken curried with rice and chips. Spoke to Mum on the blower to tell her of our plans. She told me to look at the Queen's at Litton, shortly to be placed on the market.

Suitcases packed we sat tonight with salad sandwiches. Watched the final part of 'Badger By Owl-light'.

Lord Strange has died. I am ashamed to say I have never heard of him. I can put this down to the fact that my own copy of Burke's is the 1956 edition and the Strange barony was only called out of abeyance with the death of the Duke of Atholl in 1957. Once again the peerage falls into abeyance amongst his three daughters. Bed at 11.

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Wednesday April 14, 1982

 Sunshine. Went to the YP looking like Bertie Wooster. Very 'county'. It was Sarah's last unmarried day at the YP, and we had cream cakes in celebration. She was in something of a fluster.

I escaped at 4 much to Carol J's chagrin and traveled home squinting in the sunshine. I was home before Ally and startled her when she came in. Two letters in The Times saying what rubbish the Nancy Astor tv series was.

Two peers have died. Viscount Chilston and Lord Greenwood of Rossendale, bringing this years number of deaths in the Upper house to 12. I'm keeping a record.

Chicken stew and dumplings. Listen to the Human League LP. Bessie phoned to see if I have got my missing card and money. Gill's daddy, the Rev Matthew Lynn, has had some ticker trouble over Easter and had surgery. 

Mum phoned to thank me for the copy of Saturday's YP which I posted. Their car failed its MOT today. They are going to sell the old heap. They had been in the Shoulder of Mutton drinking  and she sounded giggly.

Watched part one of the 'Woman in White' by Wilkie Collins.

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Tuesday April 13, 1982

Judith.

 Back to the YP after my Easter break. Took Sarah her bit of 'Evesham' china. She was thrilled with it. I saw Judith Brown [nee Rushworth]. She says they are going for a Timothy Taylor's pub near Keighley. Apparently I am the first to know. They're in a cottage at Burley-in-W on the Wharfe and don't particularly want to sell it.

Phoned Ally who was bringing new life to the spare bedroom and washing the curtains.

Home for 5:30. Sunny warm evening. Roast chicken. Discuss the Princess of Wales. She isn't the shrinking violet as portrayed in the popular press. How else could she have captured HRH?

TV. News. Falklands. Bath. Bed. Books. Sleep.

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Monday April 12, 1982

 Bank Holiday in the UK (Except Scotland) and Canada

JPH and Catherine

My holiday too. Full English breakfast. Scarborough? Indecision about our plans all day, and eventually we decided to go to Pine Tops. We put an old table in the car boot, and we went to Guiseley in the sunshine. I put on my new Arran sweater. John and Maria and the children were with Mum. Maria looked fat and bronzed and looked more Argentinian that Scottish. Baby names came up. Edward, such a nice name. Catherine doesn't eat, except for five oranges a day. 'She loves fruit'. The children, grown, were filthy from head to toe. Falklands chatter. John says the Russians will support Argentina. I can't see this happening. We stayed to tea. Prawns and salad. Home at 11.

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Sunday April 11, 1982

 Easter Day

We should have gone to Steve and Eileen Burnip's but couldn't face it. We were up at 2pm. Watched Erroll Flynn as 'Robin Hood'. After our sojourn in Sherwood Forest with Erroll, and a full-English breakfast we watched 'Great Expectations' until 5:30. Two bottles of lemonade, Cadbury's Creme Eggs, and egg mayonnaise sandwiches - ugh. Music. Saw the last of the 'Nancy Astor' series. Foul. To bed at 10pm square-eyed and knackered. We took lemonade to bed, just in case it might be needed. Ally remains loyal to Agatha Christie after all these years, and doesn't seem to have taken a liking to Ken Follett's 'Key to Rebecca'.

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