Monday August 12, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Karen Hudson was late for my driving and whilst waiting we took Samuel on to Hunslet Moor. The robbing window cleaner says I owe him a fiver from two weeks ago when he did the windows in a hurricane. He will get this money over my dead body. Karen came at 10:15 and I had a passable lesson. It all seems to have come together. She is a nice girl. Very blunt and down to earth. She is confident I can pass the test, but it all comes down to what happens on the day, the instructor and the Gods. 

No bar staff pm. We enjoyed ourselves tremendously.

World News: The PM has bought a Barratt house in Dulwich for £400,000. Does she think that her tenure of No. 10 Downing Street is shortly to be terminated? Oh dear.

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Sunday August 11, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

10th Sunday after Trinity

Much rain. Ally feels awful. _________. Still, we got up at 8 and after breakfast I drove to Harehills to show Ally the test centre at Hillcrest House. She wasn't in the mood to sit watching me manoeuvre the car and so we returned to the Moorhouse with raw tempers. Ally can be a wicked little thing at times.

Little Charlotte Nora is a week old today, and as yet has no surname. For her to become a Rhodes she will have to be registered by John. Without John's signature the baby will be officially Miss Drysdale. However, a Rhodes by any other name would smell as sweet, sayeth the Bard.

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Saturday August 10, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

To Menston today bearing Dad's spectacles which he left here last week. He's been a mess without them and borrowing Brian's (his neighbour at Horton). He spends many hours with the Daily Telegraph but says he doesn't have the concentration to read a book. I think he is frightened of becoming too like his father, who sat for hours with a weighty tome upon his knee, ignoring all around him. I can see the old boy now reading a biography of James Joyce. For many years I took this to be Lord Haw Haw ... but that was another James Joyce. At Menston Dad and John were painting the kitchen. Dad very subdued. I sat watching them ... yawning. Oh dear, what a life.

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Friday August 9, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

My brother-in-law Graham John Dixon appeared here on Wednesday and has spent two nights with us whilst selling suspended ceilings in Sheffield and Nottingham. What a reformed character he is. He renounced smoking when last on the Isle of Wight and has held to it since and, would you believe, he goes out jogging every morning in shorts and training shoes, &c. Just like Steve Cram. It is awful how people can get the athletic bug. Graham has always had a tendency to breathlessness and is positively Edward VII in appearance. We get along extremely well. _______. He and Gill are looking for a house, only half-heartedly, in Basingstoke or Newbury, &c. Frank and Bessie cannot come here on Aug 31 (Di & Paul's wedding day) because they are having Frank & Barbara Makin from Windermere. Sod it. Who will babysit?

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Thursday August 8, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Charlotte.

Sunshine. To Otley to see Janette and Charlotte Nora. A Dr Goebbels-like nurse refused to allow Sam to view his cousin and so Ally went in for a few minutes and I followed. I played outside collecting stones with my son and heir. Charlotte is a very large, pink baby. Poor Janette has a leg in bandages and says it's a thrombosis. I associate the word thrombosis with heart attacks. This is hysteria on my part, so I'm told. To Guiseley afterwards. Scenes reminiscent of the Hungarian uprising of 1956 at 21, Thorpe Lane. Sue is on the verge of madness. She says she had a showdown with Jim yesterday__________.

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Wednesday August 7, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

This day is a complete blank. I have been getting lapse of late. I  will try to convey a description of the diarist as he is at the moment. I am now in my 31st year. I am not too fat, though my tummy tends to sag. Still, my trousers measure only 34 inches around the waist. I weigh 13 stones and a few ounces. I have a lack of musculature. Scrawny arms, &c. I stand just under 6 feet. My hair is thick and dark - no grey. It's too long at the moment but it's getting cut soon. I have a very thin moustache with envelopes my tiny pursed mouth. I do not have to shave every day. I am a light shaver. It would take me forever to grow a beard. I have a tendency to grow a double chin. This is because my face is full. Some would say round. I dress like a typical thirty year-old when working in the bar. Boring, dull trousers, shirts, ties &c, but dress more flamboyantly in private life. Certainly I look younger than my years. Politically I am more right wing than General Zia. I love music. Anything from Debussy to Duran Duran. I love my wife and I love my son. I miss my mother more than I can say. I am happy with my life though it is too busy at times._____.

Tuesday August 6, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Reasonable morning, but blowy. John Newband came from the brewery to apologise for the lack of exterior decorators. The place looks a shambles. We went at 1:30 to Tadcaster and the 'Pig Roast' - a so-called 'Family Day' which proved to be a complete wash-out. A multitude of managers at Tadcaster Bowling Club. Jumping, bouncy castles, ice creams galore, bowling, beer, &c. Just as the barbecue began a cloud burst let rip over Tad and everybody scampered for the pavilion, a hot, sweaty place no bigger than a telephone kiosk. The outside tables were a sorry sight. Bowls of water-logged salad and coleslaw and two wet pigs on a spit. We were like drowned rats. Samuel insisted on bolting for the door at every opportunity, and our lunch was a hurried, snatched affair. We spoke to only a few. Most people gave us the cold shoulder. Roy & Marie were as normal as ever. The ghastly Ferris trio. The Pipers were cool. We escaped at 4. Sunshine in Leeds. Audrey worked 5:30-7:30. Janet came in. She goes to Belfast for a holiday on Thursday. Her work is somewhat slack. ________.

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