Wednesday February 1, 1984

Chillandham Cross.

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, Bradford

New Moon

6:00am chorus. Very good because Samuel went through the night with no feed. Pots of tea and the radio. My hair is sticking out all over and I have decided to have it taken away. Rain. We pushed Samuel over the road to the church hall and have him weighed at the clinic and an MOD inspected his knees, which click. This is nothing to worry about. He weighs 8lb 9oz. Ally was quite revolted at the size of some of the other babies. Great fat things with thighs like legs of pork in a butcher's shop. Samuel is so pleasantly proportioned. At 10:30 I walked down to have my hair cut but the place was closed. Got soaked to the skin and stamped around in puddles. I dislike having my plans thwarted and I stormed home. When Samuel slept Ally went to Vallances and ordered a new washing machine and dryer for £24.75 a month. Not bad. We packed in a disorganised fashion. In fact I didn't pack at all. That sort of thing is Ally's department. Set out to Winchester at 3 and arrived at 7:30. Samuel slept until Oxford and wailed from then on. Heart rending to hear him crying with hunger in the back. We found Bessie full of cold and looking ghastly. Neither she or Frank touched the baby because of it. We ate pork chops and watched TV. Looked at photographs. Hasn't the baby changed in three weeks. It's frightening. He'll soon be a rebellious teen with green hair, sniffing solvent adhesives and sleeping around. To bed at 12.

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Tuesday January 31, 1984

 5, Club Street, Lidget Green

2:50am. Samuel was chattering like a cheetah, or the chimps in those Johnny Weissmuller 'Tarzan' epics. I got up to look at him and he was sucking his mittens with great concentration. Pots of tea, &c. To knock Samuel out I continued with the Windsor saga and he dropped off somewhere after George VI's coronation and the emergence of the Hitler threat. Much more interesting than stuff about three bears. Went back to bed for a few hours. At breakfast time I went out and bought a fresh loaf and a newspaper. Slippery under foot. We messed around until after 12 changing, feeding, then changing again. I sat with Elizabeth Longford's book. Eventually we put the pram in the car and went into town where we inspected washing machines and pine beds (£180 at Cheap 'n Cheerful). Ally inspected the bed and I stayed in the street pushing Samuel around in his pram. Negotiating snow drifts is something of a military exercise. We arrived home at 4 to find Harry and Marian Miller driving into the street behind us. They came in for a cup of tea but Samuel screamed with hunger. He had been patient all afternoon. The Millers were drivern out after half an hour. Harry almost talking to himself about a pub near Eggborough Power Station. We later phoned our mothers. We're going to Winchester tomorrow after clinic and to Horton on Tuesday Feb 7. Ally phoned the Moorhouse and asked if we can store some furniture there on Sunday Feb 12. The Piries said yes. They are flogging the microwave oven for £125. A bit steep? Cottage pie. Watched 'Dallas' and the news. Ronald Reagan is to run again as expected. His only rival is Fritz Mondale, but he'll get back in. That's a cert. Bed at 11. The little boy slept from midnight but seemed to be having nightmares twitching and flinching in his cot.

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Monday January 30, 1984

 5, Club Street

Auntie Mabel and Samuel.

4am rise. Pots of tea. __________. Slept until 8 and then decided we really must visit the Moorhouse Inn today and so I went down and phoned Michael Pirie. No breakfast and instead we packed the slumbering child into the car and drove to Leeds eating biscuits en route. We couldn't find the pub although we could see the blocks of flats nearby. We found the Piries in a state of chaos - half packed. We met a vague Irish cleaner and saw Audrey ('a first class barmaid' according to Chris Wills). They took us upstairs for coffee  and Pirie gave us a run down again of the trouble he's had in two years. Not bad at all when one thinks of the Why Not. The dogs and cats sat licking their lips (if they actually have lips?) at Samuel's pram which we placed on a table midst the potted palms and Victoriana. I do not trust cats with babies. I have seen too many Hitchcock thrillers. We left at 12. Should we buy the Pirie's microwave which they paid £169 for in September? How much should we pay them? Home at 1. We all fed. We had a full-English. Rain. Then back to Pudsey. Mabel was out and so we went to Marlene's. She was out too. So we went to Jill's. Tim is in London. Samuel made a dive for Jill's bossom. Back to Mabel's at 5. Samuel was crying with hunger. We stayed for half an hour and auntie cuddled him so tightly that she almost squeezed the life out of him. We promised to return next week. Home at 6. Fish fingers. Bed at 10. No TV.

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Sunday January 29, 1984

 5, Club Street

4th Sunday after Epiphany

3:45 again. I stepped out to inspect my growing progency, who patiently awaited his morning repast. I went down to wash nappies and crept around. Greater love hath no man .....

Talked of visiting Auntie Annie in Colne eager to get out and about with our beady eyed angel. The thaw is here and we feel sure that the roads over the border will be passable now. I cooked a full-english (breakfast) which Ally moaned about because I fried with the kitchen window wide open. Margaret Nason phoned to say that Christopher has mumps and saw an emergency doctor in the night. Ally phoned Sue to sympathise and spoke to the invalid who told her he has 'umps'. 

Auntie Annie with Samuel and Ally.

At 1pm we set off to Colne in a burst of sunshine. I sat in the back of the car like a nanny next to my well-wrapped issue. We got to Auntie Annie's at about 2 and Samuel immediately squealed until he was fed and changed. Ally fed Samuel in Uncle Bert's downstairs bedroom. We had soup and sandwiches. I questioned Annie about the Dixon lineage and she went away to find old family photos and certificates. She came back from the loft covered in dust and with her father's birth certificate (a copy dated 1905) which was in three pieces and like the Dead Sea Scrolls. Thomas Dixon was born on July 13 1890, registered by his father who signed with a mark being unable to write. he was born at Sherfin Side, Henheads, Haslingden, son of Thomas Dixon, farmer and stone quarrier, and of Mary Dixon formerly Ashworth. Ally's grandpa's birth was registered Aug 27 1890. So, Ashworth is another branch to contend with. She showed us Great Auntie Ellie's death certificate too. She was born a Jobling and was found dead by Annie on March 24 1973. Poor Uncle Bert sat in his armchair like a lump of cheese, but he spoke much better than on previous occasions. We took our leave after 5 and jouneyed home the picturesque way through Haworth in the dark, Ally shouting for Heathcliff over the moorland road.  We sat with more sandwiches and pots of tea and watched a Richard Burton film The Medusa Touch. Quite good. Bed at 11. I nursed Samuel until he dropped off and instead of telling him all about Goldilocks and the Three Bears I recounted to him the tragedy of the Abdication Crisis of 1936 which soon knocked him out. Read the Queen Mother by Elizabeth Longford and lights went out at midnight.

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Saturday January 28, 1984

 5, Club Street

Baby was awake at 3:45 and was immediately fed by his saint of a mother. I went down to brew tea coughing as I went, rasping like George V might have done at Bognor Regis. Back to bed until 10am. Ally woke me shouting from the bathroom to tell me the phone was ringing below. It was John, who said he is heading to Bradford to go to Wickes, a nauseating DIY centre close by. He appeared with Janette at 11 and we had tea together, before going off to buy wooden doors and brass handles. I bought an interior mirror for Mandy Metro - £1.90. Janette says she is in love with Martyn Cole and has dreams about him. Much laughter. Home at 12:30. Ally wore jeans for the first time since last May or June. Janette made some tuna sandwiches and we had slurps of alcoholic refreshment listening to the (Rolling) Stones. John and Janette left at 4 squabbling, but not seriously. Janette's sister and brother-in-law are arriving and apparently John knew nothing about it. We had an omelette and listened to Radio 4. It was Princess Michael of Kent on 'Desert Island Discs'. She has a beautifully gushing personality and is obsessed with our feline friends. Supremely aristocratic. In comparison Princess Anne is like Rita Webb. I stayed up until 1am watching Peter Cushing in one of his hopeless films. I read too. Ally and Samuel departed at 10:30.

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Friday January 27, 1984

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, &c

Samuel stirred at 6am which was good. By the time he was fed and clad in yellow garb it was 7:45 and Terry Wogan was mouthing at us over the radio. A pile of photos arrived - the first of Samuel and we gleefully scanned through them.

A definite thaw and the street is dripping. A fog too. After breakfast of poached eggs a fat health visitor arrived. She has a pathologicl hatred of christian names being shortened. She told us that her husband is 'Kenneth' and anyone who calls him 'Ken' soon knows never do it again. She hissed. She discussed 'family planning' but Ally shrugged it off saying she has discussed this with Dr Duck. (Gynaecological redaction). The fat woman stabbed Samuel in the ankle and took a blood sample and then removed his clothes and inspected him like a skinned rabbit. His knees made a noise when she manipulated them. I thought the noise was the melting snow splashing on the window. No worries though. Ally goes to the clinic on Wednesday.

Bingley.

After lunch we wrapped Samuel in white woollies and piled the pram into the car and and went off in the damp mist to Bingley. Yes, Samuel's first outing. We spent an hour trying to park the car in a snow-free spot and we walked in the slush to the shops. Bought pork chops, butter, &c. Ally was whacked. Back at home we ate the chops and baked two cakes - chocolate and coffee. Watched a St Trinian's epic starring the late, great, unsurpassable Joyce Grenfell. Ageless humour. Baby was starving and we blamed the fresh, Bingley air. The house was hot like a greenhouse and I stripped down to my underwear. Bed fairly early.

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Thursday January 26, 1984

 5, Club St, Lidget Green, &c

Fresh snow has fallen. Samuel fed at 3:30am and then slept until 8. I left Ally feeding and went out to buy a fresh loaf and newspapers. At 8:30 I began shovelling snow until noon to make a track for the car. The fat woman from across the road helped and we joyfully met in the middle. A 'know all' passing by told me that our house walls are 'bellying' and that the people buying Mrs Greenwood's house are unhappy about it. ______. Sat with blistered hands with my boiled eggs and toast soldiers (or Gurkhas, as I call them). 

We have a letter from Whitbread's thanking us for our application. They request our presence at an interview on February 1. We must have written to them in March last year, and this is our first communication from them.

Samuel was 'flat out' until 5 o'clock and I took phots of him in his chair. He is two weeks old today. 

Tardis: destroyed

News: Ronald Reagan has given his 'state of the union' address. Will he run again, that is the question? By the end of a second term in office he'll be 78. Old really. But look at Churchill. He battled on into his 80s. Walter Mondale looks like a 'wet'. At 6 Ally went to sleep flat out on the floor. Both my loved ones slumbering. Mum phoned from snow-bound Horton-in-Ribblesdale. They have had some beautifully coloured birds in their garden. Like parrots, she said. Dad has been in the bushes with his camera like David Bellamy attempting to capture the beautiful plumage on film. _________. 

Sometghing awful has just happened (7:05pm) - the 'tardis' on Dr Who has been destroyed. I feel sick inside. This event is equal only to the loss of the Titanic and the abdication of Edward VIII.

Up to bed with Samuel at 10:30, and he slept an hour later. I am reading a hideous book 'Royal Lists' by Craig Brown and Lesley Cunliffe. Terrible.

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