Saturday April 23, 1983

 St George's Day

A quaint little chap wants the prime minister to declare this day a national holiday. Most other nations have a public holiday on their saints day. I agree. May Day with all it's lefty implications should be put aside and this day celebrated instead. 

The morning paper reveals the discovery of Hitler's diary. I am sceptical. Just imagine: 'Sept 1, 1939: Sleep in. Boiled eggs for breakfast. Invade Poland after lunch. Dine with Josef (Goebbels), and Martin (Bormann). Uneventful day.' I find it hard to believe that this evil little man would commit himself to paper. Lord Dacre of Glanton has laid his reputation on the line.

The premier barony of England has changed hands.The 27th Baroness de Ros has died aged 49 and has been succeeded by her son. Lord Mowbray can no longer call himself premier baron. No mention of the garter knights.

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Friday April 22, 1983

 Woke up to the sound of the pleasant thud of a book posted through the letter box. It's the Duchess of Devonshire's book 'Chatsworth'. No communication from a brewery. Made breakfast and switched on the TV. The morning news reveals that the Duke of Norfolk, Admiral Lord Lewin and Lord Richardson of Duntisbourne have been given the Garter. For eight years I have expected the Duke of Norfolk to be honoured. He is the Earl Marshal. Lewin saved the Falklands, and Richardson has been top man at the Bank of England since we came off the gold standard in 1917. No mention of the garters in the Daily Telegraph.

Ally goes off. It's the saddest part of the day when we part. I phoned Susie and asked her to look in the Leeds phone book to give me Geoff Hemingway's home address.. He lives at Fartown, Pudsey. Christopher was brandishing the telephone. The Menston house deal is coming off. I later baked bread and made a gallon of tea wine. Sarah phoned for no particular reason. Eileen is going in next week and they are considering setting her on part-time during the holidays. Played with my Paul Signac (painting) and studied Burke's peerage to work out the co-heirs to the barony of Butler.

Ally home at 5 and we ate simply - eggs and chips. Sat in a heap afterwards. An evening of quiet domesticity. A thunderstorm raged tonight and it was crashing like hell. I am sick of the looming general election. The revolting David Steel thinks that the choice of the all important election date should not be with the PM and that it should be fixed like in the USA. Election day, over the Atlantic, takes place on the first Monday after the sixth Tuesday after the last day of Lent. Stupid fool. If Steel ever became prime minister he would sing to a different tune. The SDP are acutely primative. (Roy) Jenkins is their 'PM designate'. Only the Queen can appoint a pm and it is most improper and constitutionally wrong to pre-suppose Her Majesty's decision, nay constitutional right. A political party can only select a leader.

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Thursday April 21, 1983

 Birthday of Queen Elizabeth II

The fifty seventh birthday of Her Majesty the Queen. Buried in bed beneath my quilt singing along to the National anthem on the radio. Has HM filled the vacancies in the order of the Garter? I expect to see the membership brought up to full strength on Saturday. I like to see good old fashioned aristocratic appointments. 

Biting cold. Went out and bought at Daily Telegraph. Nothing in it by way of scandal or possible stuff for tip money. Lord Buckinghamshire has snuffed it. I was thinking his peerage was doomed to extinction after the dead peer and his successor, but I see the new heir is a baronet with three sons on the Isle of Wight. Lord Brownlow is to sell Belton. Rumour has it that the Prince of Wales wants the place because the princess is reported to be dissatisfied with Highgrove. 

Baked bread and daubed at my Paul Signac copy. Watched an Audie Murphy western on TV. Was he the most decorated American soldier in the Second World War? I think so. 

Ally got off the bus in the company of that horrible tart who used to patronise the Staircase pub up the road. We ate fish pie and watched the news. The Waleses are in New Zealand and we saw them toasting the Queen at a banquet at Government House. Ally says this is such good training for Diana. 

I wrote to Geoff (Hemingway) and Kathleen. Geoff's was a letter of thanks for his assistance with my application forms, and the note to Kathleen was to say thank you for the camera. I never expected to receive such a gift. Carol J had to make do with a dictionary. 

Ally has taken to calling me 'Willie'. I cannot think why. We are in to nick names in a big way and have used them in varying degrees of 'sillyness' since our courtship blossomed in 1979.

We watched the 9 o'clock news together in the dark. An ageing US astronaut is to run for the US presidency in '84. I think Ronald Reagan will stand again. He may well be 93 but he looks great. Many people are capable of making important decisions in advanced age. Look at Lord Denning for instance. In royal news: the Duchess of Kent has had an operation for the removal of an ovarian cyst. Does this mean that HRH is no longer fertile? I am not up on the workings down under. Ally is reading out loud from the Daily Telegraph. She enjoys spotting misprints. We missed 'Soap' on Channel 4.

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Wednesday April 20, 1983

 A bright and sunny morning. Up at 7 and made Ally her egg. Switched on the TV and listened to Selina Scott. TV-am have sacked everyone. Took my daily stroll to the newsagents and returned home and washed all the windows. Mum phoned to say they are to call in on me today. They're doing Lynn and Sue this afternoon and dining later with John and Janette. _________. They arrived at 12 looking fit and well. Business hasn't been too good since Easter but they have a few bookings for Saturday because it's the Three Peaks Run. We had a few drinks together. Dad wants to buy my 'Oude Vinck at Lynden' oil painting and I smiled bashfully. Inspired by praise from Mum and Dad I took up a blank canvas and painted a snow scene copied from Paul Signac's 'Boulevard de Clichy, Paris'. Very successful. Ally was home at 5 and we had chicken curry, and felt hungry afterwards. ____. 'Dallas' was gripping. Sue Ellen found JR in bed with Holly and took to the bottle and crashed her car. What makes matters worse is that she had Lucy's lover Mick with her in the car at the time. Ate scones and jam. Bed at 9:20.

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Tuesday April 19, 1983

 Rain all day and an unwelcome chill. Ally went off into the grey and we watched each other until the green  bus carried her away. I took up my paint brush and daubed with my picture but stopped after two hours to let the thing dry. Oils can be messy. I sat afterwards reading 'The Three Musketeers' and drinking coffee. I ironed some sheets and pulled the carcas of yesterday's bird to bits and made a chick soup. Ally was home at 5:20 looking damp and we went straight out and to the Richard Dunn Sports Centre where we swam around for 45 minutes. I think we did 20 lengths of the pool but it's an odd shape with an island in the centre from which noisy children insist on diving and distrupting our calm. We climbed out feeling suitably exercised. Acheing limbs. Didn't get home until 8. Both cold and hungry. Chicken and dumpling stew. Watched  the fabulous 'Minder' with Cole and Waterman - a genius combination. Took to our beds after 10. Lay with our books. I am gripped with the excitement of D'Artagnan's quest for Anne of Austria's diamonds. The book is something which all eleven year olds have mastered and I feel guilty reading it now at the onset of my fortieth decade.

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Monday April 18, 1983

 The alarm sounded off at 6:54 and was too loud and it threw Ally into an Adolf Hitler mood and she lay seething in bed yelling naughty words at her long suffering husband who was downstairs preparing her breakfast. She eventually came down at 7:30 feeling better but was still dangerous. I went to clamour for a Daily Telegraph and the newsagent reported to me that sales of the YP have 'gone stone dead'. I wonder why? Ally went off looking like something that would be safer in a zoo and I was left alone for the day.

At 9:45 I went to the employment exchange and queued with the unemployed Bradford lads. Does anybody actually work in Bradford? I was handed a slip of paper commanding me to report again on May 16. I asked no questions and took a brisk walk back to Lidget Green where I decided to take up my oil painting. I played with a still life which I started in September 1981, and made a start on a copy of 'the Oude Vinck Restaurant in Lynden' by Max Liebermann (1847-1935), the only German impressionist of note. I am obsessed with the colour green. When I next looked at the clock it was 3pm and I rushed around baking bread and trussing a chicken. Ally was in at 5 in a much better mood. I chastised her for going out in such a mood. We watched Coronation Street. Mike Baldwin wants to open a discotheque in Rosamund Street and the Barlows are campaigning to oppose the scheme. The Barlows are so boring and miserable. Mavis and Victor are back from camping in the Lake District. Saw the royal tour on the news. Bed at 9:20.

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Sunday April 17, 1983

 2nd Sunday after Easter

Sunshine. We stayed in bed until 11. I was first to regain consciousness and crept away to make lashings of tea. We sat amidst the quilt talking about last night. I looked in my '73 diary. I first met Marita on Aug 25, 1973 when we went to Cinderella's. I spent £2.50 - an enormous sum a decade ago. We howled with laughter. Ally wallowed in her tub and I played a Michael Jackson LP so loud that he his dulcet tones reach up to the bathroom. At 2 we went out for a bus and made several good connections and arrived in Guiseley at 2:30. It was a toss up to see who we might visit first and decided upon Lynn & David.  We went to Thorpefields but found them in the middle of a furious argument about visiting Audrey and a DIY centre. We took Frances into the sitting room whilst they yelled away at each other on the stairs. It, the argument, was resolved, and they decided it was too late to visit Audrey and so we all went into the garden and sat around the garden shed like gnomes. Lynn is a fresh air fiend. Sue, Pete and Christopher arrived and it became a real family pow wow. Christopher chased the terrified Frances around the garden pushing her into the vegetable patch and pulling her hair. He is a terror. I took numerous photographs of the clan at play. Katie was reclining in her pram surounded by flapping white nappies on the washing line. The pram like a yacht in full sail coming into harbour. Like a scene from the 'Onedin Line'  - but bigger. David is a serious little soul. He took up a spade to dig the garden and Lynn suggested I joined him which I did for five minutes. Poor etiquette. Asking a guest to help dig is surely not on? Sue and Pete left and we went insidfe to escape the chill. Watched news of the royal tour on TV and joined the Bakers for Cornish pasties and beans. Frances, a little love, sat in her high chair digging at the dry food. Katie wheezed on the floor. Lynn says the poor thing has had a constant cold since she was born. Later David disappeared upstairs to draw and we had a couple of drinks with Lynn before returning home at 8. I was in short sleeves and felt 'parky'. Back at Clube St before 9. Bed at 10. Lynn leads a lonely life with David, who is increasingly buried in work. He's such a quiet little person too.

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