Monday February 11, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Clive Ponting, the General Belgrano mole, has been acquitted at the Old Bailey of offences under section two of the Official Secrets Act. What a mess this nation of ours is in. The man will not even lose his job and will receive back-pay to August. 

On a lighter note this morning at 9am I began driving lessons again under the tutelage of one Karen Hudson (very Greenham Common/Lib-Lab looking if you ask me). I took to the open road like a duck to water. After some research I can say I last took a driving test on November 20, 1974 in the days when Harold Wilson and Lord Lucan dominated the news and when petrol was 43p a gallon. I did quite well and have some confidence. Dad is very pleased at this.

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Sunday February 10, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Sexagesima

The Bakers came at 3:15 and stayed to tea. Well, the girls did. Frances and Katie are somewhat greedy. Frances gobbled two Mr Kipling apple pies. Looking at Mum she told her not to worry because she would soon be better. The noise and bustle soon proved too much for Mum, and the magic of being surrounded by children is now lost to her. It is all too horrible. Lynn is always on edge. They left and later we had veal in mushroom sauce for dinner and watched TV. Roundheads & Cavaliers, &c, and the mundane 'Last of the Summer Wine'. Mum has been eating better but didn't enjoy the veal.

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Saturday February 9, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

The escape to Bradford and to Linfood, and then on to Club St, Cheap 'n Cheerful, &c. Snow. 

Lord Trevelyan, KG, died today. I keep a list of Knights of the Garter but think a couple of deaths may have escaped me. Have Sir Richard Hull and Sir Cennydd Traherne now passed over to that place where rank and nobility hold no distinction?

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Friday February 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Absolutely ghastly. I woke up at 7:30 ____________. Ally told me that I am a pig. I vaguely recall asking the Baileys to attend a thrash here next Wednesday. Hollywood Days & Hollywood Nights is a disco and yet it isn't, and has had £50,000 spent on lighting and music centres.

A day spent in a twilight existence. I went to vomit with frequency throughout the lunchtime session and left Audrey until after 2pm. Ally showed no sympathy. Not that I expected any. 

Dad went to Horton with John but they could do nothing with the roof at Waltergarth because of the ice and frost. 

This evening I walked out out and bought fish and chips leaving Ally propping up the bar with Archie. A bitterly cold evening. Later I sat watching Victoria Wood, a comedienne of growing distinction. Pub quiet.

The dear PM has been leading the (Tory) party for ten years on Monday. Who would ever have thought that she could have held such a powerful grip?

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Thursday February 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Watery rabbit stew of all things. 

Mum went to see our Dr Danks at 6pm at Beeston Hill Medical Centre. It was just a case of them having a little chat. Mr Hall, the surgeon who operated on Mum, is ill and incapacitated until March. Mum also visited the optician and is having new frames made and stronger reading glasses.

Uncle Peter appeared at lunch but didn't ask to go up and see Mum and instead gave me his phone number and said he would bring Jean at the weekend to see her.

Ally took me out at 4, supposedly to go shopping, but instead took me to the medical centre to see a SRN called Marr who talked to us about dealing with cancer victims and coping with Mum. It was all Ally's idea. Marr is a comforting little woman who sees dying people by the hour.

The General Elliot.

On to market feeling low. Cobblers, &c. Then the two of us went out on the tiles leaving Samuel with Mum and Dad. To the Duncan at 8. Seedy to say the least. Then to the General Elliot and Hollywood Days, Hollywood Nights. We were joined by Paul from the Duncan, and the relief manager from the (General) Elliot, &c. A piss up. Joined by George and ______Bailey. I supped gallons of bitter. Up until now we have managed to avoid the clutch of Sam Smith managers in central Leeds. We were very late home. After 1. Horribly pissed.

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Wednesday February 6, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Charles II

Thirty three years ago today Elizabeth Alexandra Mary ascended the thrones of these islands. May God bless her. 

A ghastly day. Frosty atmosphere all day. Worked with Audrey tonight. Since coming back from Pudsey Mum has improved to the extent that I haven't seen her weep. Her appetite has improved too.

Watched an interesting programme on BBC2 on the life of Charles II who it seems died 300 years ago today in somewhat different circumstances to George VI. Charles's last words: "Let not poor Nellie starve", &c. To die suddenly in ones sleep denies one the opportunity of uttering poignant and meaningful last words. George VI's final utterance was probably: "Pass the cocoa, Evans."

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Tuesday February 5, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Full Moon

Ally is most certainly not pregnant. She had a night upstairs.

Mum and Dad to Sue & Peter's for the day.

I was visited by the landlord of the New Inn at Gildersome, and pissed friend, a manager with Tetley's, who complained about my beer and offered me advice, &c. They left at 10:30 and Andy and I had a couple of pints afterwards discussing breweries and catering, &c. It was 1 o'clock when I went up to bed. _______.

I am to resume driving lessons after ten years, starting on Monday. When did I last take a driving test?  '74 or '75. This requires research.

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