Wednesday February 29, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Leap Year Day. Poor people like James Ogilvy, Moraji Desai, and Colonel the Hon John Bingham celebrate birthdays today. 

Lazy. Eventually I got out of bed at 8 and changed Samuel who was horribly wet and plastered. His eyes are as big as saucers and give me such long looks. A postcard comes from Frank and Bessie in Lanzarote. I do hope they are enjoying the barren wilderness of that place. Some people could become depressed by the volcanic desolation. 

Club Street.

I went down at 1:15 to put out a 51 year-old bum who stood at the bar with an alarm clock and ordered three pints of bitter and proceeded to drop tablets into each glass. As I escorted him out he whimpered that his father is dead and that his mother is Welsh. I responded that it is better to be dead than Welsh. So very cruel. I then sliced off a chunk of my left thumb whilst trying to defrost a beefburger. Sod it. At 2 we crept out and went to Bradford shopping. Trousers and baby necessities. It was refreshing walking around town with the pram. On to Club Street and sat with Mary Moore who told us that Charles Eyden was buried on Thursday. He would have been 85 in September. Poor Norman continues to wander around the street in his open pyjamas. Back at 8:30. A night of peaceful domesticity.

Takings: (Bar) £123.66, (L) £110.02

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Tuesday February 28, 1984

 7 o'clock start. Down to the cellar to splash around and prepare for the dray delivery. At breakfast my boiled egg was bad and Ally immediately offered me hers. 'Greater Love Hath No Woman' &c. The phone trilled. It was Jane, our new recruit, who says she has a 'bug' and  cannot work tonight, but will be back on Sunday. Oh dear. I do hope she isn't going to be 'one of those'. The dray came at 10 and they went away leaving me short of two bottles of spirits. I was annoyed with myself for allowing this to happen and it will play havoc with the stocktake on Thursday. 

Ally went off shopping and I entertained Samuel. He is a tremedous little character. His eyes followed me around the room. So sturdy too. I am proud and thankful. I will phone the vicar soon to arrange a christening. He's the Rev Terry Munro. Ally says Terry is an unlikely name for a man of the cloth. The snob in me says Terry is more suited to the likes of a bricklayer. 

Harold: another war.

Dear 'Supermac' graces page one of the Daily Telegraph arriving at the House of Lords yesterday for a dress rehearsal for his introduction to the upper house. The last such 'do' for a newly ennobled earl was that following Lord Snowdon's elevation in 1961 - when Harold was PM. I can never remember whether the last earldom to be created was Snowdon or Avon.

Chicken and Yorkshire puds at 4. Watched on by Samuel in his chair. What a pampered pet he is. He whimperes to be picked up and lays placidly in my arms as I go from room to room. He loves bodily contact. 

Worked with Maureen (McNicol). It was dead. An old boy called Harold (born in 1911) told me that we need another war to put the country back on its feet. I hate that sort of talk. I went upstairs at 11 to find Ally and Samuel asleep. I did the tills. Vanham, my old maths teacher, would be proud of me. 

Takings: (B) £121.65, (L) £80.26.

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Monday February 27, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Mrs Thingy phoned from Cheap 'n Cheerful to say we can have an extra large four-poster bed for £210 as a special order and that it will be here at the weekend. Gill phoned to say they are coming here on Friday for the weekend. The takings will shoot up, won't they? 

The family at Christopher's party.

It is Christopher's second birthday. At 3:30 we went over to Guiseley with baby to Christopher's riotous birthday party at which Lynn, Frances, Katie, Pamela, Rebecca, Margaret, Mum, Dad, Emma (next door) and her mother were guests. All potted beef sandwiches, jellies and buns. Lynn took me on one side in the sitting room to say she is furious with L _____________. The family seemed odd and distracted. Mum and Lynn were particularly 'ratty'. Back to Leeds for 5:30. Dead. Ally came down for a few hours on and off. It is a start. L. Gledhill called in. He asked about 'Mister Oliver's' visit and said I had put the cat among the pigeons by telling him I had not been on Mike Walker's training course. I might have to go alone to Taddy. The news tills will be here on Thursday. 

Joan Parkinson-disease worked tonight. She's a mixed up, annoying wench. The tills are always down after she has worked. 

Takings: (B) £116.44, (L) £118.69

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Sunday February 26, 1984

 Sexagesima

Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Another quiet Sunday. I was up at dawn and cleaning the beer lines. Ally came down to lend a hand whilst Samuel slept soundly. She is looking forward to getting 'stuck in' in the bar. The pub needs a woman's touch. _____. The Piries came back from Aberdeen and he came snooping in supposedly to give me a key. It's my view that ex-landlords ought to be banned from revisiting their old pubs.

Roast chicken for lunch. Watched TV afterwards. Caught the end of a Bing Crosby movie, but did some channel hopping. Susan Hayward was in a harrowing film on the other side and I cannot decide whether or not she died at the end. 

It was Jane Tudor's first night. She is an attractive girl and should be good at raking in some of the male population. She did very well for a first night. Quiet until 9:30 and then a deluge of people. Hilda, Tony, Jill and Tim came in and stayed until after 12. We gave them a guided tour of the cellars and we had a couple of pints in the dimly lit lounge. ________. Very late to bed because of our visitors. The novelty will soon wear off and we'll soon be forgotten and ignored by our siblings and cronies. I really must ring Dave G and Dave L. They do not know we are here.

Takings: (B) 116.20, (L) £173.48

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Saturday February 25, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Samuel: gurgling more.

Samuel woke at 6 but after a feed we switched off and went back to bed until 9 which was naughty because I had so much to do. The traditional boiled egg followed and we managed to eat before Samuel woke. He takes pleasure in interrupting meals.

A quiet Saturday with no visits from kin or from friends. We half expected a visit from Sue and Peter, who have yet to see us at work in a public house. At 3:30 we wrapped Samuel up, bundled him into the car, and went in search of Makro, the wholesalers, but we wandered around quite lost. Leeds United were playing at home and so we hurried back for 5 o'clock to avoid the rabble. The great outdoors exhausted me and I nodded off in the armchair after tea and crumpets. Samuel is now gurgling more, almost trying to speak, sturdier too and managing the occasional smile of recognition. Some people cruelly say the smiles are only wind. I don't think so.

We haven't heard from Mum & Dad since they were here almost two weeks ago. Karen and Steve are spending this weekend at Horton-in-Ribblesdale, with Hayley. 

Bed after Peter Cushing. 

Takings: (B) £188.99, (L) £169.62.

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Friday February 24, 1984

 Moorhouse Inn, Leeds 11

Ally was far from happy when I decided to trim my moustache over the sink and leave all the hairs glued to the porcelain. Surely, a true wife would have gathered them up and pressed them together and placed them in a locket to wear close to her heart until her dying day? It's the sort of thing a Jane Austen character would do, so why didn't she? Where has romance gone? On the subject of romance we have suffered something of a blow re our King-size pine bed. We saw one at Cheap 'n Cheerful yesterday and when Ally phoned the guy who makes the beds with our mattress measurements she was told 'Oh, we only make the standard double bed size'. So, we have lashed out on a £99 mattress that we now cannot use. Ally implored the bed-maker to reconsider and he went away to think about it. We still owe MM the money for the mattress.

Lunchtime passed smoothly. I did some of the cooking when Ally was feeding Samuel. Will he have a brother George? We are thinking about this already. Tobias is a good name too. Ally surprised me by saying she'd like a Harry.  Oh dear. Clementine remains the top girls choice.

Worked flat out 5:30 to 11:30. Chaotic. Margaret (Milne) says it's the busiest Friday here since Christmas. Even the lounge bar was deep with thirsty customers praising my ale. Is it usual practice to praise a new landlord's beer? People do say that it has improved since Pirie's departure. I suppose they will say the same about me and my ale when I am no more. Sausage sandwiches and bed at 12:30.

Takings: (B) 211.62, (L) £189.37

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Thursday February 23, 1984

 Busy busy. Hurry hurry. Samuel is six weeks old today. Ally sang 'Happy Birthday' at breakfast time. I am feeling settled now and find the Moorhouse so easy after the Why Not, although some lads in the tap room need watching.

This afternoon we dashed home to Bradford to kidnap the Staffordshire pot dogs, lamps and cushions. The place is quite stripped now but we refuse to become sad or nostalgic about Club Street. Times have to change, don't they? We have to move on. We cannot be expected to spend decades of our lives in that declining Bradford suburb. I see myself in ten years time in a tiny, ramshackle of a pub in the middle of rolling countryside with Ally looking lovelier than ever, and four children upstairs playing Ludo with a floppy dog at their feet. How close am I with this? 

To Cheap 'n Cheerful too. Hung pictures tonight. The tatty landing at the top of the stairs is now a gallery of pictures. Ally could make Spandau prison comfy. We have been given a leaflet on birth control. Something about the rhythm method. I suppose you make love to Glenn Miller? Oh dear.

Takings: (B) £215, (L) £125

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