Abdication of King Edward VIII, 1936. Miss Went is away for two days and a relaxed atmosphere prevails at the YP. Little Janice is far too domineering in her attitude to me - I'll put her in her rightful place before very long.
Praise be to God in Heaven! It's happened. The Burtons are back together again. Poor Liz was wheeled out of hospital by a jubilant Richard, and the couple flew to Rome to spend Christmas with Sophia Loren. This really does go to show that true love always finds a way. Liz said she'd separated from Richard because 'we love each other too much'. Eh?
Poor Mark Phillips is in bed and not with Princess Anne it seems. The poor boy has gastro-entiritis. Must be all that South American food he's been getting. Poor chap.
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20090513
Sunday December 9, 1973
2nd in Advent. A completely restful day. Listen to Jimmy Savile all afternoon. Dad gives John and me dirty looks through the window - but how can he expect us to leap up and spend all day pulling up the dead foliage in his herbacious border? The sabbath is for rest, and we certainly obeyed that command.
No one rang in the evening and Lynn, Sue and I watched a Stewart Grainger and Jean Simmonds film 'Footsteps in the Fog' - quite thrilling. John went out with Christine W, and Mum and Dad went to Esholt where they saw Chris, Andy and Laura with the Cartwright Set. Mother thinks_____________. I'd better not tell him. He'd never come again. Bed after 'Up Sunday' at 12.
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No one rang in the evening and Lynn, Sue and I watched a Stewart Grainger and Jean Simmonds film 'Footsteps in the Fog' - quite thrilling. John went out with Christine W, and Mum and Dad went to Esholt where they saw Chris, Andy and Laura with the Cartwright Set. Mother thinks_____________. I'd better not tell him. He'd never come again. Bed after 'Up Sunday' at 12.
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Saturday December 8, 1973
Get up at about 11. Do absolutely nothing all day, until evening that is. Chris rings early on and says he's going to the Emmotts. I ring Denise who is in the bath, and then have a bath myself. I hear from Chris that Denny purchased a moped the other day! I can just imagine dear Denny racing through the wilds of Arthington like a cat out of hell!
Meet Peter Mather, Philip Cartwright and Finlay - we all rush off to the Commercial at Esholt - Mum and Dad's local. Such a strange pub - more like the drawing room of a Victorian vicarage. Very Dickensian. Philip and Fin go off to do a disco, and we three return to the Emmotts. I have a Guinness and decide I ought to drink it more often. Mind you, anything is better than the Emmotts bitter, which is quite revolting. Peter brings me home after fish and chips from the shop opposite the Emmotts. Go to bed at about 12.30 after watching Phil Silvers on the Parkinson programme - quite funny.
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Meet Peter Mather, Philip Cartwright and Finlay - we all rush off to the Commercial at Esholt - Mum and Dad's local. Such a strange pub - more like the drawing room of a Victorian vicarage. Very Dickensian. Philip and Fin go off to do a disco, and we three return to the Emmotts. I have a Guinness and decide I ought to drink it more often. Mind you, anything is better than the Emmotts bitter, which is quite revolting. Peter brings me home after fish and chips from the shop opposite the Emmotts. Go to bed at about 12.30 after watching Phil Silvers on the Parkinson programme - quite funny.
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Friday December 7, 1973
Busy day at the YP. I made photostat copies of all the family births, marriages and death certificates.
A very pleasant evening. Chris, Peter Mather, Laura and her friend Maggie, Andy, Philip Cartwright and myself all went to the Cow & Calf which is now 'Samantha's' - really beautiful now, but the memories of the old place will always linger. Dance until 2.0. Peter brings me home to the door. It is a cold, rainy night. Christmas is only 3 weeks away - not likely to be a white one either.
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A very pleasant evening. Chris, Peter Mather, Laura and her friend Maggie, Andy, Philip Cartwright and myself all went to the Cow & Calf which is now 'Samantha's' - really beautiful now, but the memories of the old place will always linger. Dance until 2.0. Peter brings me home to the door. It is a cold, rainy night. Christmas is only 3 weeks away - not likely to be a white one either.
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Thursday December 6, 1973
Pay day again. I receive an extra twenty odd pence. Old Mr Linacre must have realised by now that my service to the YP is invaluable.
Arrive home at 6.30. The train from Leeds was incredibly slow. Uncles Harry and Bert are devouring my evening meal. Uncle B is still suffering with a bad foot, gangrine or something.
Dad is so pleased to see his brothers. Mum thinks Uncle B is a strange character. He is so vague. Uncle Harry is my favourite uncle on Dad's side of the family - with a funny sense of humour. They go out to Burley-in-Wharfedale to see cousin Dorothy, who resides at the White Horse, not returning until 2.30. I see tv until 12.
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Arrive home at 6.30. The train from Leeds was incredibly slow. Uncles Harry and Bert are devouring my evening meal. Uncle B is still suffering with a bad foot, gangrine or something.
Dad is so pleased to see his brothers. Mum thinks Uncle B is a strange character. He is so vague. Uncle Harry is my favourite uncle on Dad's side of the family - with a funny sense of humour. They go out to Burley-in-Wharfedale to see cousin Dorothy, who resides at the White Horse, not returning until 2.30. I see tv until 12.
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Wednesday December 5, 1973
The train to Leeds is getting hideous. More and more people have to stand, and when petrol rationing comes in it can only get worse. The train will be even worse on Tuesday, when the railworkers go slow. What a state this nation is in.
See in the YP that Sir William Worsley, father of the Duchess of Kent, died at Hovingham last night. The new owner of Hovingham Hall is Sir Marcus Worsley, 5th Baronet, who is 49. I do not pretend to be a keen admirer of the Worsley clan, but the late Sir William was born on April 5, and for that reason alone he deserves a mention.
At 1.0 I meet Chris and Laura at the Jubilee, near the Town Hall, a pleasant half an hour. For lunch I had 2 egg and cress sandwiches.
The honeymoon of Pcss. Anne and Capt. Phillips ended today and they began an official visit to Ecuador in South America. The couple were all bronzed with the sun, and Mark looked quite pleased with himself. I am afraid to say the princess looked somewhat sullen.
Tv boring all evening. Bed 11.0pm.
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See in the YP that Sir William Worsley, father of the Duchess of Kent, died at Hovingham last night. The new owner of Hovingham Hall is Sir Marcus Worsley, 5th Baronet, who is 49. I do not pretend to be a keen admirer of the Worsley clan, but the late Sir William was born on April 5, and for that reason alone he deserves a mention.
At 1.0 I meet Chris and Laura at the Jubilee, near the Town Hall, a pleasant half an hour. For lunch I had 2 egg and cress sandwiches.
The honeymoon of Pcss. Anne and Capt. Phillips ended today and they began an official visit to Ecuador in South America. The couple were all bronzed with the sun, and Mark looked quite pleased with himself. I am afraid to say the princess looked somewhat sullen.
Tv boring all evening. Bed 11.0pm.
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Tuesday December 4, 1973
I awake at 7.55 with Dad's friend hammering on the door. Everyone had over slept. By 8.20 I was in Guiseley station. Phew!
Kathleen was not very pleasant at work today because last night she was "popped up" to the eye balls. The poor dear had a hangover.
My typing lessons finished today until next Monday - a weeks break will do me the world of good. Typing is such monotony at 'Sight & Sound'. Bed 10.30.
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Kathleen was not very pleasant at work today because last night she was "popped up" to the eye balls. The poor dear had a hangover.
My typing lessons finished today until next Monday - a weeks break will do me the world of good. Typing is such monotony at 'Sight & Sound'. Bed 10.30.
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Monday December 3, 1973
I ought to _______________________in August, because my heart is broken beyond repair. Four months have passed since darling June left me, and yet no day goes by without me wishing for a miracle to return her to me. It's not as if I don't try to find someone else, but her image is always in my mind. Her voice, her sayings. I will never stop loving her.
Agreed, sometimes weeks go by without me writing her name, but you must realise that most things I write are only useless facts, to cover my innermost feelings. One day I do suppose that I will forget about my so-called broken heart, and look back upon these months with nothing but fondness. But one cannot act of context with the present. At this moment in time I love June more than anyone or anything else.
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Agreed, sometimes weeks go by without me writing her name, but you must realise that most things I write are only useless facts, to cover my innermost feelings. One day I do suppose that I will forget about my so-called broken heart, and look back upon these months with nothing but fondness. But one cannot act of context with the present. At this moment in time I love June more than anyone or anything else.
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Sunday December 2, 1973
Advent Sunday. Awake at 12.0 and have breakfast. John was home for 11.45 - Mum didn't mind when I told her of the hour at which I had arrived home. Have a bath at 1.0 and listen to Jimmy Savile. The snow still lies, like a shroud, over the ground, and the sun cannot move it. A typical winters day. I hope we will have a white Christmas - like the one in 1970.
See the Royal Command Performance on tv. The Queen looked super. She was dressed in a aquamarine shimmering evening dress. As usual, the same old cracks about royalty were made. Not even the corgis escaped.
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See the Royal Command Performance on tv. The Queen looked super. She was dressed in a aquamarine shimmering evening dress. As usual, the same old cracks about royalty were made. Not even the corgis escaped.
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Saturday December 1, 1973
Mum gets me up at about 7.30 and I walk into Guiseley at 8 to catch the train to Leeds at about 8.20. A beautiful morning and the sun shines brilliantly, but the snow still refuses to melt.
Mum rings me at the YP at about 11.30 to tell me that John will join me in Leeds at about 12.30. Miss Went lets me go at about 11.50 - and I wander around WH Smiths - Leeds is packed out with Christmas shoppers all in a panic because it is now December. I buy a coat for £13.50.
Very hungry. Arrive home at about 2.0. A nice lunch, then John and I play records until nearly 6 o'clock. See Bruce Forsyth and 'The Generation Game'.
Telephone Chris who says he's going to the Emmotts and then on to Andy's - I say I'll join him. Go to the Emmotts at 8.30 where I sit with Philip Cartwright until 9. Chris and Andy went to Philip's last night and were rendered inoperably drunk - one of Mrs Cartwright's best tables was ruined. Anyway, a crowd gathers and at about 10 o'clock we all go down to Andy's with a pile of bottles ranging from ale to Southern Comfort and brandy. When his parents return Chris, Laura and myself go to a beautiful house near Philip's in the car of a certain Dave, surname unknown, where we remain until 3am. Everyone sits gambling until the cold light of dawn breaks through the Rawdon skies. Me and Chris went into hysterics, and caused damage to the record player, when we came upon a recording of 'Puff the Magic Dragon' - never will I forget the laugh that record gave Chris and myself. I slept on one of those sofas without a back, but with a roll on one end.
At 3am Chris, Andy and myself set off for home. I went to Andy's to collect my jacket, and he tried to persuade me to stay the night. I went on walking home and arrived home at exactly 4.05 - a four mile walk in 65 minutes. This is a remarkable fete for a drunk.
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to be continued
Mum rings me at the YP at about 11.30 to tell me that John will join me in Leeds at about 12.30. Miss Went lets me go at about 11.50 - and I wander around WH Smiths - Leeds is packed out with Christmas shoppers all in a panic because it is now December. I buy a coat for £13.50.
Very hungry. Arrive home at about 2.0. A nice lunch, then John and I play records until nearly 6 o'clock. See Bruce Forsyth and 'The Generation Game'.
Telephone Chris who says he's going to the Emmotts and then on to Andy's - I say I'll join him. Go to the Emmotts at 8.30 where I sit with Philip Cartwright until 9. Chris and Andy went to Philip's last night and were rendered inoperably drunk - one of Mrs Cartwright's best tables was ruined. Anyway, a crowd gathers and at about 10 o'clock we all go down to Andy's with a pile of bottles ranging from ale to Southern Comfort and brandy. When his parents return Chris, Laura and myself go to a beautiful house near Philip's in the car of a certain Dave, surname unknown, where we remain until 3am. Everyone sits gambling until the cold light of dawn breaks through the Rawdon skies. Me and Chris went into hysterics, and caused damage to the record player, when we came upon a recording of 'Puff the Magic Dragon' - never will I forget the laugh that record gave Chris and myself. I slept on one of those sofas without a back, but with a roll on one end.
At 3am Chris, Andy and myself set off for home. I went to Andy's to collect my jacket, and he tried to persuade me to stay the night. I went on walking home and arrived home at exactly 4.05 - a four mile walk in 65 minutes. This is a remarkable fete for a drunk.
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to be continued
Friday November 30, 1973
St Andrew's Day. Spend the day looking forward to Chid and Garth's annual booze-up. Ring Denny at about 6.30 and ask her to meet me in the Clothiers at about 8.15. Dad takes John and me to Christine W's, and we walked to Yeadon in the freezing, icy blasts of winter. John buys me a pint in the Clothiers but it makes me feel sick. The coldness makes my stomach revolve.
Denny doesn't arrive and at about 8.45 I ring her from the kiosk outside Morrison's and find no one at home. Very mad that she decided not to come.
MM and Linda Smith join us at 8.30. We walk down to the Liberal Club, or what's left of it, and are sadly disappointed. Chid's group may be good if you like that sort of thing, but the noise really persecuted me. Denny was sitting, all in white, behind one of the speakers. She was mad with me for not going to the Clothiers! Evidently, she's been in one of the other rooms and we'd managed to miss each other. At 10 o'clock I decided I'd go for the bus, much to Denny's disgust, and I went down to the bus stop outside the Town Hall. John and Christine walked down Henshaw Lane.
A beautifully calm evening, but the fallen snow is turning into ice. I run up Hawksworth Lane arriving home at about 11 o'clock.
See a good film starring Dame Flora Robson. Mum is surprised to see me home at such an early hour.
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Denny doesn't arrive and at about 8.45 I ring her from the kiosk outside Morrison's and find no one at home. Very mad that she decided not to come.
MM and Linda Smith join us at 8.30. We walk down to the Liberal Club, or what's left of it, and are sadly disappointed. Chid's group may be good if you like that sort of thing, but the noise really persecuted me. Denny was sitting, all in white, behind one of the speakers. She was mad with me for not going to the Clothiers! Evidently, she's been in one of the other rooms and we'd managed to miss each other. At 10 o'clock I decided I'd go for the bus, much to Denny's disgust, and I went down to the bus stop outside the Town Hall. John and Christine walked down Henshaw Lane.
A beautifully calm evening, but the fallen snow is turning into ice. I run up Hawksworth Lane arriving home at about 11 o'clock.
See a good film starring Dame Flora Robson. Mum is surprised to see me home at such an early hour.
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