Saturday July 8, 1978

Sun rises 04:53 Sun sets 21:18

Ode to Ibiza

Ibiza, you are an island covered in sand,
I visit you every year,
You aren't very big,
and neither are you grand,
but to me you are very dear

I've often walked along the beach,
and gazed upon your women,
to them there's a few things I could teach,
like ridin', fishin' and swimmin'

Oh, that's enough

M.L.R.

Friday July 7, 1978

The flight was without incident other than Peter's blunder with the seat numbers which had us trailing up and down the aircraft aimlessly looking for seats 9A, B, C & D. Sue slept for part of the journey, & I don't think she enjoyed it. The little pet looked worried.

The time of our arrival escapes me but by 5:30 or 6am we were at the Hotel S'Estanyol waiting in the foyer to be allocated our rooms. Chippy and Gus walked out of the front door and onto the beach to indulge in a spot of nude bathing.

-=-

Thursday July 6, 1978

Last day at the YP for a fortnight.

At home I said goodbye to Mum and Dad and Lynn. They'd been to say farewell to Edith and Ernest, who leave for Paignton next week. No doubt we'll see them in September.

At 6:30 this evening went with Sue and Pete to the Shoulder of Mutton where we met Chippy & Gus for a few drinks before leaving for Stockport.

We went to Stockport at about 8 and stayed at the Hollywood for the evening. Bill and Garry made an appearance and once again my hair style was the focal point of the conversation.

I do not intend writing page after page for the two weeks I am away. Traditionally I write from notes as my journal hasn't travelled with me since 1976 when I'm sure _____________.

When the pub closed we hung around for about half an hour and then piled into taxis to Manchester Airport. Checked in at midnight. The sexy, blond air hostess informed us that the flight would be leaving slightly EARLY.

-=-

Wednesday July 5, 1978

New Moon 10:50

Packed the suit cases and generally prepared for the exodus. Last night Christine said my perm made me look affluent, or was it effluent?

Ode to my Perm

Once you were straight and hanging down,
But you don't any more,
In fact you're all curly now.
Blimey, Mum says I look like Kevin Keegan,
but Dad thinks I'm a puff.

Ode to Kevin Keegan

Once you were straight and hanging down,
But you aren't any more,
In fact you're all curly now,
Blimey, my Mum says you look like me,
But Dad prefers Plymouth Argyle.

Fin.

-=-

Tuesday July 4, 1978

Out tonight with Christine at about 8:45. John came at about 8 in a new car, the type of which seems to have slipped my memory. It's big and green anyway.

He's selling the MG for £450 which is ridiculous. I wouldn't give him more than a couple of hundred for it. Christine had a giggle with him before our departure to the Fox & Hounds.

Jimmy Mac was in with bloody ____________. She considers herself to be such a superior young lady. _______________.

From the Fox & Hounds we did the usual ritual of the Hare & Hounds, the White Cross and finally the Crown at Yeadon. Philip was in the Drop and was sceptical about CB's Jersey project. He doesn't believe she'll do it, and even if she does go he says he has no intention of stopping her. She borrowed £1 from him to get some drink in.

We came back home quite pissed at 11:30 and had a few more drinks. She took a House of Holroyd shirt as a gift from me and left at about 12:30.

CB bought me a big pencil from her Jersey holiday and a badge with 'Jersey Tom' on it. To went off to bed quite canned.

-=-

Monday July 3, 1978

The same applies to Monday July 3. It was quite an ordinary day. I ventured to the YP and did my usual thing for the national output and received one or two phone calls. One was most definitely from Christine. We arranged to go out tomorrow, probably to the Drop. She wants to inform Philip of her intended flight to the Channel Islands. Another phone call came from an excited Dave G.

Ode to Princess Michael of Kent

Marie-Christine is your name,
I've seen you on the telly,
If I were the Prince I'd take my head
and lay it across your belly,

Roman Catholics can't get divorced,
This is a crying shame.

The Pope should mind his own business,
and his Archbishops should do the same.

-=-

Sunday July 2, 1978

6th Sunday after Trinity

Ah well, you can't win 'em all. To be perfectly honest with you it isn't July 2nd at all. It is some considerable time later and here I am sunning myself in the garden with this diary reclining on my ancient, much sought after knees.

The sun is beating down. You should be able to work out the date from the last statement. The sun only shone on three occasions in the summer of the year of Grace 1978.

Cathleen Nesbitt has just been on the radio talking about Rupert Brooke. Phone the BBC and inquire as to when the broadcast was made and you've cracked it.

However, to get back to July 2. It was Sunday and I did not venture far. I do recall going to Lawn Road with my services and definitely recall devouring a Sunday lunch which wasn't at lunchtime at all so I suppose you'd call it dinner.