Friday December 22, 1978

Moon's last quarter 17:41

Not going to tell you much. Work was over by 1:30 and we went across to Parker's Wine Bar ~ which was ridiculous. So cramped and over crowded. Surely a danger and a fire risk? Tarts abounded. Champagne gushed everywhere at £8 a bottle. Most of the men in the place were dressed like Shirley Bassey ~ I think they were heading off to a fancy dress party.

At about 4 o'clock Carol J took Sarah and I to Ivory Towers {really Ivory Dene, West End Lane, Horsforth}, where we ate beans on toast and drank whisky.

November '63: Jack or Bobby?

Auntie Delia brought me home at 7 and came in to use our phone. She wanted to contact Bill (Collis) ~ the phones at Ivory Towers are out of order.

My throat is on fire. I think my cold is returning. By 8:30 I'm in bed and undergo a hideous night of delirium and sweat. At one point, in my dream, I was about to assassinate Senator Robert Kennedy, but couldn't understand why my calendar said it was November, 1963. I went out on the "grassy knoll" trying to tell people that it was his brother, John, who should be assassinated, not Bobby. Nobody believed me.

Yes, I'm stoned out of my miserable brain.





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Thursday December 21, 1978

Sorry about this ink ~ but my faithful fountain pen is missing.

Back to the YP. Not at all festive. In fact Kathleen was quite dull. She's usually all child~like and giddy at this time of year.

Left work at 1pm and concluded my shopping at Schofield's. I purchased a wonderful Ian Dury single ~ "Rhythm Stick" and made my way home.

Susan and Peter were flat out on the settee ~ both suffering from colds. Peter was too ill to go out tonight. This stunned me. He went home at 5:30 taking me down the lane with him. It's deep in soddin' snow.

I almost froze to death on the bus. The vehicle rattled and shivered on its miserable journey to Horsforth.

To Bibi's in Leeds after having a double whisky at the Leisure Centre. It was the usual YP Library "do". Boring really. On with Sarah, Carol J, and Monica to the Regent at Chapel Allerton ~ the usual cattle market.

Slept in the Pink Suite at Ivory Towers ~ quite a laugh.

-=-

Wednesday December 20, 1978

Feel better, but still snuffling. I phoned Jacq at 12 and told her I couldn't meet her today. She wished me a happy Christmas, and I did likewise to her. I received a Christmas card from her this morning ~ "To Michael, Love, Jacq".

At lunchtime Mum said it was quite unfair that she couldn't have a "works Christmas party" because as a mere humble housewife she misses out on the lavish affairs provided for office workers. Enough said. We grabbed a couple of bottles of wine, and summoned Susan from upstairs, and sat around the dining table to have a celebratory glass.

Sarah phoned at 1pm. They now want to go to Bibi's instead of Da Mario's (on the Headrow, Leeds) and that they want to call in at the Regent at Chapel Allerton. You know what this means? They are going to bugger off with boyfriends leaving me in the lurch. Ah well, who cares?

Sarah doesn't want to linger in town (Leeds). She is frightened that the IRA is going to put an incendiary device under her chair, or pizza, &c. OK, the terrorists have threatened to target northern cities but I don't see the point in worrying unduly about it. Fretting isn't going to halt the IRA.

-=-

Tuesday December 19, 1978

Susan has kindly given me her ruddy cold. I didn't wake up until 9 o'clock when I could hear Mum downstairs on the phone telling Lynn of John & Maria's news.

A deep fog lay outside and I announced that I did not intend going into work today. I rarely miss the YP these days and a day at home can do nothing but good in these frightful weather conditions.

Phoned Eileen and informed her of my loss. Or is it her loss? Never mind, any way.

Gradually throughout the day my condition worsened and I began sneezing, coughing and choking. The little treasure upstairs (Sue) is responsible for my decline.

Jacq phoned. She didn't know I was at home. She wanted to speak to Mum but we had a chat all the same. I told I would take her some of her personal effects tomorrow, but if I'm still grovelling in my bedridden stupor, she will have to wait until after the Yuletide festivities. She told me Trixie had collected my signet ring and that it will cost me £29.  _____________.

We have done little but discuss John & Maria's news all day. She has a doctor's appointment on Wednesday when she will discover the date of the expected delivery. It will no doubt clash with my Ibiza holiday. Susan is 20 on July 21, and it's Maria's 21st (birthday) on July 26.

I love babies and children. John is thrilled. __________.

Bed wrapped up at 11:20 with a couple of paracetamol and cup of hot lemonade.

-=-

Monday December 18, 1978

Frosty. Uneventful at the YP. Played cards all afternoon and swilled coffee with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J.

John & Maria: second baby in July

Sarah told me that ________- slept with Eamon Patrick Burke on Friday and then went to a party with him on Saturday. I am barely surprised.

Christine phoned. She's not working on Saturday and so we can both take the Regent by Storm (Chapel Allerton).

I have some really serious joyous tidings. John rang from Stranraer and said he'd be down here on Saturday afternoon. JPH sang 'Jack & Jill' for Mum, all in his fine Scottish accent, and told her that Santa is bringing him a police car and a ball. And then John dropped a bombshell. MARIA IS EXPECTING A BABY IN JULY! Isn't this wonderful news? The Rhodes line is to be properly secured in the year of Mum & Dad's Silver wedding anniversary. I'm overjoyed. _______________.

Sue was out at the Hare until 10:30 with Wendy Wool employees. When she came home I informed her she is to be an aunt again.

By the way I go on and on about babies I bet you are wondering why I don't have any of my own. One day, dear reader, one day.

Bed at 1:04am. Poor Lynn won't get the news until tomorrow.

-=-

Sunday December 17, 1978

Out of bed at 1:20pm. I'd been brought from my coma several times during the morning to the sound of vacuum cleaners and washing machines belting out. 

Downstairs Mum grinned and said something about Lillie Langtry, but I refused to be drawn on this pointless squabble.

Ate lunch and then went down the lane gathering holly from the hedgerows to bedeck the house in trimmings for Yuletide.

We have had a Christmas card from John in it a note saying he'll be down on Dec 23. I miss him and really look forward to seeing him again. Little JPH will be wonderful. What is this time of the year without children?

Susan and Peter have avoided Mum and they won't be making an appearance. Booze makes Mother extremely cruel and bigoted. She takes it out on Peter because he isn't boisterous and demonstrative like Dave B is prone to be. Most unfair. I refuse to keep silent on the matter, but my so~called "interfering" only proceeds to make Mum all the more abusive. Never shall I be silent and rabbit~like in the face of wrong and injustice,. (My God, I sound like someone with a cause).

Mum and I dined on curried mince. Dad joined us later. Susan called in and collected a bundle of Lynn's washing and took it to Burley. ( Lynn currently has no drying facilities). Peter is full of cold and sneezing and spluttering.

At 8 o'clock we watched "As You Like It" on BBC2. It starred Helen Mirren and Angharad Rees. Yet another delightful production. Helen Mirren is wonderful. I have always been besotted with her ~ she reminds me so much of Sandra Lawson.

The central heating is on the blink and the house is very cold tonight. I took to my bed at 11:45.

Dad surprised us all by suddenly announcing that he could take to reading Kipling. Mum says he's never read a book in his life. I must admit - I have never seen the man buried in any volume.

-=-

Saturday December 16, 1978

Sun rises 08:00

Sun sets 15:52

Sunny and warm. Dave G's cheque arrived from Stockport in a  registered envelope and at 12:30 I caught a bus and buggered off to Bradford to pay the holiday deposit. The city was like the streets of Teheran have been in recent weeks and I resolved to remain in this swarming metropolis for as little as possible.

Met Denise at WH Smith's. She is remarkably thinner. I paid up and then carried her off to the Painted Wagon. It has been so long since we last met it is almost pointless trying to catch up on our experiences. We say we must have a night out soon, but how many times have we promised ourselves this and then done absolutely nothing about it?

Tonight Denise is going with Chris R to see Dave & Laura Pattison (Laura, nee Butchart). Chris and Michelle have finished. Denise is very changed. I suppose she thinks the same of me.

Lucy Lindsay-Hogg

Home at 3:30 to drink sherry with Mum and Susie. The wedding photographs of Lord Snowdon and Lucy Lindsay-Hogg are on the front pages of the newspapers. She is quite ugly. Her arrival at the register office is reminiscent of a housewife dashing to the Co~op  for a pack of toilet rolls. I feel so sorry for Princess Margaret because she has suffered irreparable damage this year over her divorce and friendship with Roddy Llewellyn. The divorce would never have happened but for the fact that Snowdon wanted to re~marry. She must be sad and lonely.

Tonight Lynn and Dave came and we sat round the Christmas tree drinking lager with whisky chasers until 1 in the morning. Mum was quite drunk and became quite nasty. When Sue and Pete came in she turned on Peter like a wild animal. Poor Susan was upset and I consoled her upstairs. She says Mum is always horrible with Peter when Dave B is present. David Baker is Mum's blue~eyed boy.

David severely gashed his finger on a corned~beef tin and the climax of the evening was a violent argument about Lillie Langtry. Mum and Lynn said she was a prostitute. A King's mistress can never be a prostitute.

-=-