20091215

Monday December 30, 1974

A remarkable story was splashed across the pages of yesterday's Sunday People about the marital goings on of the Duke of Argyll's brother, Lord Colin Campbell. Evidently, Lady Colin, the duke's sister-in-law, was a "young man" until her 19th year, when he/she underwent a sex-change operation. Whatever next?

Prepare myself for a quiet Monday evening, which is to be quite different tonight. Andy rings us at about 8. He collects John and I and we go to the Hare. Have several drinks at the local before moving on to the Station on Henshaw Lane. Linda and Carol are having a quiet drink inside, and are surprised to see us. I'm on lager again all night, and drink too much. Not too much as far as intoxication is concerned, but too much in a pig-like style, verging on gluttony. Have fish and chips and then come home to see 'The 39 Steps' - the ancient film. Ah well, 1974 is almost over and done with. I do so dislike having to move into a new year.

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Sunday December 29, 1974

1st after Christmas. Wake up in a lousy state at noon. Still fully clad in jeans and cardigan, but all in knots. Am still drunk at 12. After a bath with the window wide open and a large cooked breakfast I disappeared back to bed until 4.30. Came downstairs to be faced by a bowl of Mum's trifle which had gone off. Nearly decided to call it a day and return to bed, but chose to stay to entertain Dave and Lynn, who are discussing tonight's rave at the Gadsby mansion.

They all go at about 6 and I sit about listening to the radio. Once again the fateful December 29 is upon us. The fifth anniversary of the death of Uncle Albert. Not wishing to be too morbid I'd like to say a few words about him. At the age of 14 I had led a completely sheltered life of happiness and domestic bliss. For those 14 years death had been an unknown monster. Like other children, I never expected this ugly __to raise its sombre face in my direction. But, on December 29, 1969, my little world was shattered by the death Uncle Albert, my beloved relative and friend. This event marked a point of some significance. Nobody before or since has died leaving me so upset. In short, he's the only person I ever been close to and lost. That is why I keep this day in horror next to my heart. I realise that before my life is done, many such dates will be of horrid significance to me.

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Saturday December 28, 1974

Death of Mary II, 1694. Feeling quite well, which is unusual for Saturday mornings. Lynn and I sit listening to the radio until 8.0am. This John Stonehouse case is a right bloody fiasco. It makes one wonder just how many other vice-ridden, corrupt sods flock each day to the Palace of Westminster to help govern this nation of ours. It's a nasty embarrassment for 'Uncle' Harold and his so-called Labour party.

Work until 3.30 when I decide to pack up and go. I was only half an hour early - no catastrophe.
John, Sheila and cousin Valerie came after tea, and John and I only had a few minutes with them before departing for Horsforth. The Ratcliffe party commences in the evening and is a tremendous success. The clan meet in the Fleece, a nice little ale house which we rarely visit throughout the drinking year. See June. We don't speak. Miss Bottomley fails to excite my emotions like she did once upon a time.

The party is underway by 10.30 and goes on until 11 the following morning. I can't remember much about the occasion at all, though I do recall a certain enjoyable experience with Christine Braithwaite. I gradually drank myself into a state of semi-consciousness & Denny was the only one who came to my aid. We walked all over Horsforth together and I felt much better afterwards. Home with Lynn, David, Christine Dibb and Denny at 4am.

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Friday December 27, 1974

Unusual day. Wake up at 10.30 feeling void of all life and health, but do not lay around to dwell on my condition. Downstairs David is preparing breakfast and poor Sandy is in a pile on the lounge carpet with Tosca looking on.

I devour an unwanted breakfast and John attempts to remove the remnants of this early mornings fiasco with a tin of beans and toast from his person. Leave the Lawson residence at about 12 o'clock and David comes back for a drink. Sit in front of the TV all afternoon not taking much notice of the goings on and contemplating the Christine/Philip break-up. She rings later on and confirms it. He came to see her this morning and begged her to reconsider, but she refused. Naturally, the poor girl's upset, but the bulk of my sympathy goes to poor Philip. He's a different character to Christine. I think she can be hard, whilst he's almost child-like in his affection for her. He'll be shattered by this well and truly.

Arrange to go to the Hare at 8.15. Dave's collecting me, and Christine is making her own way down. It's a quiet night really. John, David, Sandy, Christine and myself go to the Hare, then to the Queen's at Apperley. See Judith B's car on the drive, but she's not in the pub in question. Find a fish and chip shop open in Horsforth and we sit about troughing like greedy pigs. Home and tucked up in bed for 12.

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Thursday December 26, 1974

Boxing Day. Holiday in England, Ireland & Wales. Christine finished with Philip at Dave's Christmas party. I am bereft of all comment on the situation. My capacity to deal with the English language is shown to be completely useless when I give it news of such a sizeable calamity as this to cope with. She handed the (engagement) ring back and he went off heart-broken into the wind and rain of the night.

The party itself was super. Dave playing the perfect host as usual, and all went well. Everyone came, and I received my first opportunity to form an opinion of Adrian, espoused of Miss Akroyd.

MM and Marita were sat heaped in a corner all evening - not at all the enthusiastic couple. I became more than just merry. Exactly, I was pissed up beyond the level of safety. Danced with Christine for much of the time. She kept saying how relieved she was to have ended it all with Philip. As though a great cloud had been raised from above her. Carol Smith's little scouse of a boyfriend kept threatening to kill the other male party goers when they attemmpted to dance with his darling. God! Just who does he think SHE is?

Sandy and I made beans on toast at about 4am. John managed to coat himself with more than a liberal layering of baked beans, which set concrete hard by 10am.

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Wednesday December 25, 1974

Christmas Day. Up at a decent time with no hangover, upset stomach or minor bruising in the area of the buttocks, like the situation I was in at last years festive peak. After the ritual handing over of millions of presents we all settle down in the lounge in preparation for lunch. It was better than the last one, and Mum really deserves a medal for all she's done today. Delicious.

David Baker, Esquire, calls after lunch to give Lynn her presents. We sit laughing for hours.
The Queen seemed rather abrupt in her usual Commonwealth broadcast, and we saw none of the usual family tit-bits like Prince Edward pushing a corgi off the back of a Land Rover, or Princess Margaret in cabaret at Braemar Womens' Institute annual prize giving. Still, we are grateful for the few words we did receive.
To Auntie Eleanor's at 7 with the family plus Mr Nason and Mr Baker. ________.Home at 2am. Dave looked like thunder from about 11.30 onwards. The poor boy doesn't understand the Wilson type of humour at all.

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Tuesday December 24, 1974

Christmas Eve. YP till 12 before the festivities begin. At 12 I go outside to meet John who is coming into Leeds for the booze-up in the Central Station pub. He comes up to the library and waits while we open our presents and knock back a glass of cinzano bianco.

The Central is packed out - unbelieveable. Sarah, John and I spend most of the time at the bar. Peter Lazenby and few of his 'Roundhead' Sealed Knot friends go almost hysterical when I tell them that Sarah is descended from Bridget, daughter of Oliver Cromwell, and General Henry Ireton. Praise upon praise was lavished upon her. However, they didn't go so far as to buy her a drink. Sarah, John and I left Leeds by bus at about 3 o'clock. The massive crowd in the Central prevented us from being rendered incapable with ales and spirits, but we weren't all that sober. Devour a few layers of chocolates while travelling home.

At home Mum is prepared for Christmas. Have tea - the first meal of the day for me, before going out on the town to the Hare at 8.30. We stay until 11.30 and nobody seems really enchanted with festive cheer. Come home with Lynn and Dave Baker and sit about merry-making until the early hours.

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Saturday May 19, 1984

A warm, gentle day. Ally and I took off to town with Samuel at 1pm. We didn't take the pram and I carried baby for two hours, by the end...