Sunday March 4, 1979

1st Sunday in Lent.

_. Went with Sarah and Delia to see Bill North at Headingley. It was my first ascent of a block of high rise flats and I was pleasantly surprised.

Bill is something of a cross between Larry Grayson and Liberace, and very suspect. We drank gin and tonic. I agreed to paint his hallway, which has ten doors leading from it, but no overall price was settled upon. He gave me £10 to be going along with though. Delia kept bursting into howls of laughter and blaming it on me, and it was all so childlike and good fun.  I am eternally grateful to that small, valiant lady, with the bunch of gladioli and campaigning spirit, who has undoubtedly saved me from prostitution & degradation.

Hilda and Tony came here again. Wine was consumed on the usual vast scale and we discussed the so-called family tree. I am sure that Tony knows more on this subject than he lets on , and when I next go to Pudsey I must look at the Wilson family Bible. I gave him the dates of the burials of John & Rella Wilson who died in Dec 1920 and March 1926 respectively. Lynn and David came and saw Auntie H for the first time in three years.

Saturday March 3, 1979

_. To the White Cross at lunchtime with Susie & Peter and then went on to Otley with the intention of buying Lynn a birthday present. Sadly, Peter's car broke down near Birdcage Walk in Otley and something of a pantomime followed. I made my way to a phone box and contacted Margaret Nason and arranged for us to get a lift from Jim. Back at Guiseley we secured Dad with the tow rope and headed back to retrieve the ailing vehicle.

Tonight: Out to the Regent [Chapel Allerton] with Sarah at 8. I had arranged to meet Sue, Peter, Chippy and Deborah but they didn't arrive until 9 o'clock. I was left talking to Sarah & Richard Burke and his brother Eamonn, which was awkward. The lads don't like me at all, especially Eamonn. It all stems from our mutual relationship with J___, and for some reason this is embarrassing for him.

The night was dull and boring. I don't want to go back to the Regent for a long, long time. Home at 11. Sarah and Richard were arguing. For a moment I thought I stood a chance, but this prospect faded rapidly. She has a strange choice of boyfriends does Sarah - they are always the same.

Watched Bogart in a film later.

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Friday March 2, 1979

_. To Len's Bar with Sarah & Delia at lunchtime. Why do I always prefer the mothers?

Thursday March 1, 1979

_. St. David's Day


Today is lost in the mists of alcohol and time. ______________________.

Wednesday February 28, 1979

_. There is a saying that goes "faber est quisque fortunae suae" - so where have I slipped up for God's sake?

I try to do my bit and keep out of trouble. I've never voted Labour, contracted VD or praised the Ayatollah, so why am I being singled out in this cruel way?

This evening I phoned Dave in Stockport and put him off coming at the weekend. He has postponed his trip until March 9. This is far more sensible and agreeable for all concerned. My excuse to Dave - an outright lie - was that I have found employment decorating at the weekend. This may prove more accurate than you may think. Delia phoned me this afternoon in a state of great intoxication. She immediately put me onto a male flower arranging friend [bent as a nine bob note] who wants paint slapped over some of the walls of his flat. The delightful sum of fifty quid was mentioned. Naturally, I leapt eighteen feet into the air and suffered a major respiratory collapse.  £50 is just the right sum to save me from incarceration in the Chateau d'If, and putting emulsion paint on walls is simplicity itself. Further arrangements will be made on Friday but it seems that good old Delia has found me salvation.

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Tuesday February 27, 1979

_. Bright, sunny day. Dave Glynn phoned and invited himself here at the weekend. I readily agreed at the time but afterwards decided that things will be exceptionally tight, financially. It is both Lynn & Dave B's birthdays next week, and with my phenomenal debts I cannot see this weekend being a riot.

Lynn and our Dave called in this evening. We are definitely going - en masse - to dine at the Coniston next Tuesday. The party includes the Bakers and Julie Harris. Lynn complained that I haven't been to Burley since Alison's visit in January. __________________________________.  Jacq is being entertained next Wednesday, and so I must make the effort next week.

Lynn says I am putting on weight. Sharp of her. My ever increasing girth is almost as much a worry as my financial  condition. Aren't I on the mullock heap? Oh dear. This permanent scrawl of self-pity cannot be doing any of you readers much good, eh? I will do my best to cheer up in the coming pages and so do keep reading, and if you like, why not skip a few pages until happier, more interesting times? I feel sure I will be in a happier frame of mind when the Spring lambs are frolicking in the lush greenery of our beloved Yorkshire.

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Monday February 26, 1979

_. At lunchtime I ventured to Leeds Library and snatched up a copy of William IV by Philip Ziegler. By 11:30 tonight I had read 80 pages. I've also got about as far with Dorothea Jordan's biography.

I have studied the life of Sailor Bill before. When one reads of the exploits of the royal dukes in the 1780s/90s it never ceases to amaze me that the British monarchy survived into the 19th century. The cherubic Queen Victoria saved us from the disease of festering republicanism.

My financial condition is now in a calamitous situation. If I could only see some light at the end of the tunnel perhaps I'd be slightly happier but I see nothing but gloom and drudgery.

Saw the divine Julie Harris on our mutual form of public transport and she showed me the engagement photos taken at the engagement party on Saturday. Poor Chris [Baker] was helpless with drink and eventually collapsed. Lynn behaved herself, she tells me, and my sister managed to keep on her feet. Julie thinks Audrey and Henry Baker are a very odd couple. I cannot agree more, but do not say so. I have no intention of becoming a foul conspirator to the plot which Lynn and Co. are so marvellously perpetrating.  _____________________________.

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