Friday October 1, 1976

Before I start I must say two things: WHITE RABBITS. John Philip Hugh Rhodes is one day old.

Celebrate my nephew's anniversary at the Hare & Hounds with CB and Martyn. Quiet really. Tony calls in with Stuart and the lad from W.H.Smith's Travel and T shows great surprise when I say Lynne is in Spain. They go off to Oakwood Hall and minutes later we are visited by Mr C. Ratcliffe, Mr J.P. Rhodes, Mr L. Rhodes and Mrs N. Rhodes. Haven't seen Christopher for ages. __________.

John, Mum and Dad had been to Hyde Terrace to look once again at Maria and John Junior. I still can't believe it myself.

Home with Mum, Dad and John at 11.15 and watch a silly Beryl Reid/Flora Robson 'horror film' on the BBC.

Bed at 1.30 after having had a 'friendly' argument with John about hospital deliveries. I see nothing wrong with women giving birth at home. Risks are in all things.

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Thursday September 30, 1976

Awakened at 7.15 by Mum rushing into the bedroom. It's a boy! Maria was delivered of a 8lb 7oz son at 6.05 this morning. John was with her from 1.30am, and Mum, Molly and Jim were in the waiting room. I leave for work at 8am an uncle. The folk in the office are cheered by my good tidings and I have great difficulty in working. Attempt to ring home all day but the phone is constantly engaged.

At 4.30 I go up to the Reference Library and get thoroughly soaked in the process so much so that a 'new baby' card I'd bought for John & Maria is ruined along with a couple of newspapers. The rain was running down my back and in an attempt to keep dry I zipped up my bomber jacket and caught my gold chain in the zip and snapped it. Home at 6 o'clock dripping wet.

Mum and Dad visited their first grandchild this afternoon and Mum says he's the most beautiful baby - ever. Today is also Hugh Macdonald's 29th birthday and so the new baby is to be named John Philip Hugh.

John comes at 7.30 and he takes Susan, Lynn and self to Hyde Terrace. We each spend 15 minutes or so with John, Maria and the baby. He really has the most beautiful, unblemished complexion. So many babies have that 'poached egg' look. John is over the moon. None of us can really take it in. Call in at the off-licence and buy £5 worth of booze. At home discover that Mum's spent the same amount on the same commodity, and so we have a little 'wetting the babies head' treatment. Take a few photos. Bed at 2am.

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Wednesday September 29, 1976

CB rings to say she is the proud owner of an automobile. A Triumph 1300 to be precise. Arrange to go out for a drink at 8pm.

[Hold on a bloody minute the lot of you. Mr Michael Rhodes took the day off to do a spot of decorating and of course to see Miss Lynne Mather off from Yeadon on her trip to good old Spain. She flew off at 9.30 in something of a misty spell. Won't be back until Saturday week.]

CB and I go for a drink to a dead Hare & Hounds and then onto to Emmott Arms where Keith Brown is behind the bar dishing up ale. Half an hour in that God forsaken hole was enough, but, to our horror, we find we are trapped in the carpark by another car. CB attempts to manoevre the machine through a gap in a stone wall whilst I go back into the bar to find the owner of the offending vehicle. On returning to the carpark I'm almost overcome by the fumes of burning rubber and masonry, and can see from CB's face that all is far from well. "I've scratched the bloody car", she yells, and with that we rocket off to the Fox & Hounds. As well as a scratch she's managed to unhinge the bloody car door. To the Hare for the last one and home at 1045. CB drives off with her car door flapping.

Molly and Jim are just leaving with John after visiting Maria in Hyde Terrace. At midnight Molly is on the phone saying Maria is in labour! At last! At 1am, or so, John, Mum, Molly and Jim go off to Leeds again. Poor John of course is car-less at the moment. Lynn and I sit waiting for news. By 5am I am too tired to keep awake and fall into a nervous unconsciousness on the settee.

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Tuesday September 28, 1976

The news in brief: Maria was taken into Hyde Terrace Hospital at lunchtime and I fully expect to be an uncle before Friday or it, the baby, will have my wrath to contend with.

Miss Lynn Rhodes and Mr David Baker have been deeply in love now for exactly two years and a celebration to mark the event was held accordingly.

Lynne rang from Thornton-le-Dale at 8.30 and I say I'll meet her at the airport at 9am tomorrow. The line was bad, at her end anyway, and she doesn't hear a word I say.

Lucy Lindsay-Hogg was in some of the papers over the weekend. Will she be Countess of Snowdon one day? You never can tell.

Bed at 12.04am on Wednesday morning. Read Wodehouse's 'Do Butlers Burgle Banks?'

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Monday September 27, 1976

A wet, awful day. Do you recall how I said on Saturday that people who mention the so-called drought to me will have their balls crushed in a vice and be made to sit through a complete performance of the Max Bygraves TV show? Well, I'm now increasing the sentence to the death penalty. Silly Denis Howell wants his head examining.

My photographs of Christine White's 21st and my weekend at Thornton-le-Dale came today. All good, but one of Lynne and I, and one of Lynne at Castle Howard have not developed.

From 9 until 11am I painted the gloss bits of the bathroom. Quite a pleasant job really. John rings later to say Maria is going into hospital at 2pm tomorrow for tests, but we assume immediately that the time has come at last.

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Sunday September 26, 1976

15th after Trinity. Don't see the light of day until 12 o'clock. Have only a slight headache from Eileen's gin, but otherwise all is well.

Dad decorates his bedroom and I do absolutely nothing amidst the busy scurrying of Mum, Lynn and Susan, who are like ants. Lynne sits crocheting a pram cover or something for a couple of hours, until I persuade her to walk up to the village [Hawksworth] with me. Warm, brilliant sun. Energetic stroll and then home for orange juice and a session with the photo albums.

Lynne goes off at 6.30 - 7 o'clock. Will go to Yeadon Airport on Wednesday to see her off to Espana for a couple of weeks or so. A great and perfect woman she is.

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Saturday September 25, 1976

John's 20th birthday. The first time that one of 'us four' have been away from home for a birthday. A wet, disgusting day. To make matter's worse Lynne's car on Edith's drive, doesn't start and it takes Dad and David 30 minutes, in pouring rain, to get the bloody thing going again. Lynn comes with Lynne and I to Leeds. The less said about shopping in monsoon-hit Leeds the better. Get John a bottle of 'Aramis' for his birthday and buy 'Givenchy Gentleman' after-shave for my own personal use. Lynne buys a white polo-necked sweater and Lynn got David a couple of presents because they've been going out for exactly 2 years next Tuesday.

Mention the drought to me mate and I'll crush your balls in a metal vice. Harsh I know but you can't expect to antagonise me and get away with it Scot free. [Or is it Scott free? And from where does this saying originate?]

[Large gap at foot of page where I was supposed to record my visit to Eileen Byram's party in Dewsbury. It is sadly lost to history.]


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