._. Bournemouth. Her Majesty's fifty third birthday. Breakfast was served at 8:30. Sausage, bacon, eggs, and lashings of hot, flowing tomato, the tinned variety. Afterwards we congregated in the [dry] lounge to discuss tactics. Neil and his two stooges announced that they wanted to go watch an amateur football team by the name of Stockport County, who are playing at Portsmouth this afternoon. Obviously, I was horrified and dumfounded. I said: "leave me out" and immediately Dave and Garry followed. Billy, who enjoys a game of football said he would go along with the Portsmouth trippers, and that was that.
Garry, Dave and I wandered around the town and then went in the car to Boscombe Pier where we listened to Sooty and Sweep singing 'Teddy Bear's Picnic'. At 12 we met Alison near the Royal Bath Hotel. Her car was making a terrible noise and the exhaust was blowing out filth and choking fumes. Experts afterwards said it was probably the silencer, or lack of it. She leapt from her motor and we all took off in Garry's car to a pub on the outskirts of the town. _________. It was as though Alison and I had never been apart. Garry announced that he could have grabbed hold of her and cuddled her tightly. It was great how the four of us got on so well. Garry, I am sure, fancies her. Things become very blurred. Pints of lager and Pernod make a lethal mixture. We took Alison back to our hotel and something must have been said because the bar door was unlocked and unbolted and Arthur, the toothless proprietor, was soon pulling pints like something possessed.
We drank until about 6:30 and then Alison drove us, in Garry's car, to the beach where, wearing only my underpants, I took a dip in the sea, and poor Dave vomited over the sand. Garry and Alison spent ages lobbing pebbles into the sea. Truly delightful.
Back at the Gainsborough we sobered up, went out for a pizza and then more drink. Alison went at 1:00am.
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20170610
20170517
Friday April 20, 1979
-. We left at 7:30am for Bournemouth, with maps, compasses, carrier pigeons, &c.
Bill was navigating and I snoozed in the back of Garry's car. My red suitcase was behind at the Hollywood because it wouldn't fit in the car, and Neil had orders to bring it along in his car when they followed on.
Down past the Midlands I was in new, unexplored territory and the delights of Wiltshire unfolded before my eyes. At lunchtime we stopped off at a village pub where all the regulars resembled characters from 'The Archers'. They all addressed each other as "Mr A" and "Mrs B", just using initials. Then, when Neil and the other lads had caught up with us, we left them and moved on into further unchartered stretches of the vast unknown. Near Devizes we had further refreshment and then motored onward to Bournemouth, arriving at 5pm.
My first action was to phone Ally in Winchester and she promised to join us tomorrow lunchtime for a few drinks. The hotel proprietor, whom we called Arthur for some reason, was typical of those of his profession. He tried to tell me that the hotel - the Gainsborough - had been built for Prince Rupert, the gay Cavalier, who was a nephew of King Charles I. Given that the hotel dated from the Edwardian period I sneered at this tale. Prince Rupert died in the 1680s! Silly, old, lying Arthur.
The bar on the premises was barred and shuttered in a very ominous fashion. The seven of us visited several hostelries in the town and returned to the Gainsborough at 11:30 ~ pissed up.
-=-
Bill was navigating and I snoozed in the back of Garry's car. My red suitcase was behind at the Hollywood because it wouldn't fit in the car, and Neil had orders to bring it along in his car when they followed on.
Down past the Midlands I was in new, unexplored territory and the delights of Wiltshire unfolded before my eyes. At lunchtime we stopped off at a village pub where all the regulars resembled characters from 'The Archers'. They all addressed each other as "Mr A" and "Mrs B", just using initials. Then, when Neil and the other lads had caught up with us, we left them and moved on into further unchartered stretches of the vast unknown. Near Devizes we had further refreshment and then motored onward to Bournemouth, arriving at 5pm.
My first action was to phone Ally in Winchester and she promised to join us tomorrow lunchtime for a few drinks. The hotel proprietor, whom we called Arthur for some reason, was typical of those of his profession. He tried to tell me that the hotel - the Gainsborough - had been built for Prince Rupert, the gay Cavalier, who was a nephew of King Charles I. Given that the hotel dated from the Edwardian period I sneered at this tale. Prince Rupert died in the 1680s! Silly, old, lying Arthur.
The bar on the premises was barred and shuttered in a very ominous fashion. The seven of us visited several hostelries in the town and returned to the Gainsborough at 11:30 ~ pissed up.
-=-
Thursday April 19, 1979
_. To Leeds with Jim R bearing my red suitcase packed with nearly all my possessions. At lunchtime I bought a ticket and passed the afternoon hanging around in readiness. It was unfortunate really because the coach to Manchester didn't leave until 6pm.
I had a pleasant chat with Ursula before marching out of the office at 5:30. Slept all the way to Manchester on the boring M62 and then got a bus to Stockport arriving there at about 8pm. I managed to get lost. The statue to Queen Victoria was facing one way, and I walked in the opposite direction. Billy told me to follow the old Queen. Dave was out searching for me and so I sat at the bar in the Hollywood with a heap of tongue sandwiches and a pint of lager, chatting with Mrs Glynn. An old boy leaning on the bar was reminiscing about the British pulling out of Malta in WW2, which was really interesting. We then discussed the pros and cons of marrying for money, and we decided it was quite acceptable. I did say that the fortune would have to be considerable before I could contemplate such a move.
Dave G came in at 8:30 followed by Bill [Wright] & Garry [Barratt]. The lads seemed quiet and subdued. Neil arrived with two other Bournemouth trippers and we sat drinking ale until 11. _________.
-=-
I had a pleasant chat with Ursula before marching out of the office at 5:30. Slept all the way to Manchester on the boring M62 and then got a bus to Stockport arriving there at about 8pm. I managed to get lost. The statue to Queen Victoria was facing one way, and I walked in the opposite direction. Billy told me to follow the old Queen. Dave was out searching for me and so I sat at the bar in the Hollywood with a heap of tongue sandwiches and a pint of lager, chatting with Mrs Glynn. An old boy leaning on the bar was reminiscing about the British pulling out of Malta in WW2, which was really interesting. We then discussed the pros and cons of marrying for money, and we decided it was quite acceptable. I did say that the fortune would have to be considerable before I could contemplate such a move.
Dave G came in at 8:30 followed by Bill [Wright] & Garry [Barratt]. The lads seemed quiet and subdued. Neil arrived with two other Bournemouth trippers and we sat drinking ale until 11. _________.
-=-
Wednesday April 18, 1979
_. Packed up my troubles in my old kit bag, and smiled, smiled, smiled. Well, not quite. In fact I loathe preparing to go away and despise traveling and all the inconvenience attached to it, and do not enjoy a holiday one bit until I'm sitting in the hotel bar with a full glass. Suit cases are hideous objects. In fact, I'm looking at one right now. Red it is.
Spoke to Dave G in Stockport and we joked about the recent violence in Bournemouth. I said I'm going to push a few old girls off the pier and into the sea ~ bath chairs and crutches too. But Bournemouth so conjures up a vision of red geraniums set out in regimented gardens, cluttered with elderly ladies with blue rinses, staggering around the sea front clutching onto one another. I see elderly, long retired colonels, with yellow moustaches, and wilting spats. In fact, I picture nothing young or youthful at all. The arrival of ten lads from the north of England will send a gust of cold air up the crinolines of many a dowager duchess, as they cough and wheeze themselves from the latest Des O'Connor show to the garden of remembrance. Goodnight. Lights out at 1:23am.
Spike Milligan was good tonight.
-=-
Spoke to Dave G in Stockport and we joked about the recent violence in Bournemouth. I said I'm going to push a few old girls off the pier and into the sea ~ bath chairs and crutches too. But Bournemouth so conjures up a vision of red geraniums set out in regimented gardens, cluttered with elderly ladies with blue rinses, staggering around the sea front clutching onto one another. I see elderly, long retired colonels, with yellow moustaches, and wilting spats. In fact, I picture nothing young or youthful at all. The arrival of ten lads from the north of England will send a gust of cold air up the crinolines of many a dowager duchess, as they cough and wheeze themselves from the latest Des O'Connor show to the garden of remembrance. Goodnight. Lights out at 1:23am.
Spike Milligan was good tonight.
-=-
Tuesday April 17, 1979
_. Last night, it's all very vague. Ally and I really joked about our so-called romance. She said Lynn is taking it all quite seriously and whenever they are alone together Lynn feeds her potted anecdotes from my distant childhood. Oh dear.
YP was dull and uninteresting. I didn't arrive at the office until after ten because I failed to respond to both my alarm clocks (yes, two of them). Kathleen seldom complains about my diabolical time keeping, but I don't like to get in too late in case the Ayatollah Khomeini should happen to be in the throes of a guided tour of the building with the Lord Lieutenant and dear old Sir Kenneth Parkinson.
David B phoned after lunch to say we are going to Salvo's after work, and he collected me at 5:30 and we met Lynn, Ally, Sue & Peter at the New Inn in Headingley. On to Salvo's at 6:30 for pizzas and el vino. We all enjoyed a couple of bawdy hours, The food was incredibly good and the only sadness was poor Ally having to return to Hampshire. Before she left I took her phone numbers so that I can contact her when I am in Bournemouth next week.
Lynn and Dave didn't want to come back to Pine Tops and see Mum but I insisted and both of them seemed subdued. Lynn said she was tired, but I still think something is queer. ____________. Drank coffee and sent Ally off south at 9 o'clock. Poor Alison. ______________________________.
-=-
YP was dull and uninteresting. I didn't arrive at the office until after ten because I failed to respond to both my alarm clocks (yes, two of them). Kathleen seldom complains about my diabolical time keeping, but I don't like to get in too late in case the Ayatollah Khomeini should happen to be in the throes of a guided tour of the building with the Lord Lieutenant and dear old Sir Kenneth Parkinson.
David B phoned after lunch to say we are going to Salvo's after work, and he collected me at 5:30 and we met Lynn, Ally, Sue & Peter at the New Inn in Headingley. On to Salvo's at 6:30 for pizzas and el vino. We all enjoyed a couple of bawdy hours, The food was incredibly good and the only sadness was poor Ally having to return to Hampshire. Before she left I took her phone numbers so that I can contact her when I am in Bournemouth next week.
Lynn and Dave didn't want to come back to Pine Tops and see Mum but I insisted and both of them seemed subdued. Lynn said she was tired, but I still think something is queer. ____________. Drank coffee and sent Ally off south at 9 o'clock. Poor Alison. ______________________________.
-=-
Monday April 16, 1979
_. Bank Holiday in England, Ireland & Wales.
Incredibly warm day. I had to go into the YP too. Roads are dead, deserted and once again I have the distinct impression that I am the only bugger working this Bank Holiday Monday. Just Carol J & me in the office, which was lifeless. More noise to be heard in the crypt of St George's Chapel, Windsor, I suspect. Did a deal with Carol letting her go home at 2pm, but I took a two hour lunch break from 1pm, and came back to work at 3 for an hour.
At lunchtime I was joined at 1pm by Sue, Pete & darling Ally and we found ourselves in Whitelocks because both Len's Bar and the Ostlers were closed. Gulped back lager and beef and red cabbage sandwiches. They collected me at 4 after my feeble one hour back at the YP, and they tell me that some unfortunate devil has drowned in the weir at Kirkstall Abbey. Damned Bank Holiday swimmers - they just cannot be trusted.
Tonight: with Sue, Pete and Ally to the Commercial. She [Ally] is now very cynical about marriage ___________.
On at 9:30 to the Prachee Indian Restaurant at White Cross. I had prawn Madras curry, &c. All quite drunk and outspoken. A waiter attempted to rob me, but I didn't let him get away with it.
-=-
Incredibly warm day. I had to go into the YP too. Roads are dead, deserted and once again I have the distinct impression that I am the only bugger working this Bank Holiday Monday. Just Carol J & me in the office, which was lifeless. More noise to be heard in the crypt of St George's Chapel, Windsor, I suspect. Did a deal with Carol letting her go home at 2pm, but I took a two hour lunch break from 1pm, and came back to work at 3 for an hour.
At lunchtime I was joined at 1pm by Sue, Pete & darling Ally and we found ourselves in Whitelocks because both Len's Bar and the Ostlers were closed. Gulped back lager and beef and red cabbage sandwiches. They collected me at 4 after my feeble one hour back at the YP, and they tell me that some unfortunate devil has drowned in the weir at Kirkstall Abbey. Damned Bank Holiday swimmers - they just cannot be trusted.
Tonight: with Sue, Pete and Ally to the Commercial. She [Ally] is now very cynical about marriage ___________.
On at 9:30 to the Prachee Indian Restaurant at White Cross. I had prawn Madras curry, &c. All quite drunk and outspoken. A waiter attempted to rob me, but I didn't let him get away with it.
-=-
20170326
Sunday April 15, 1979
_. Up at about 10 feeling revolting. Ate toast and drank tea, then bidding our fond farewells we piled into cars and headed for the Red Lion at Burley in Wharfedale. I could only drink Coca Cola to begin with but soon pulled through. To Lynn and Dave's afterwards where everyone [except me] slept and snored through 'The Greatest Story Ever Told'.
At home by 6:30 to find John, Maria, JPH, Hilda and Tony. Watched even more religious propaganda on TV and ate a big dinner. I am sick to death of food this Easter. Tony is hilarious. It is obvious they have had a good weekend with Mum & Dad. Poor little JPH is returning to Scotland tomorrow. Maria, beetroot-like, had burned herself under a sunray lamp.
-=-
At home by 6:30 to find John, Maria, JPH, Hilda and Tony. Watched even more religious propaganda on TV and ate a big dinner. I am sick to death of food this Easter. Tony is hilarious. It is obvious they have had a good weekend with Mum & Dad. Poor little JPH is returning to Scotland tomorrow. Maria, beetroot-like, had burned herself under a sunray lamp.
-=-
Saturday April 14, 1979
A warm summer-like day. Was very surprised to see Mum up bright and chirpy after last night. She and Papa consumed vast quantities of whisky. At 11:30 we all went to Lynn & Dave's and then all on to the Fox & Hounds at Starbotton for drinks. Ally is still knocking back port and lemon. God knows where she puts it. It was very pleasant have 99 per cent of the family together.
We had turkey sandwiches at Burley and then went over to Pudsey at 7:30 to meet Karen, Steve, Jill and Tim. Diane was out babysitting. Tony and Hilda offered to do an exchange visit by coming over to join Mum & Dad at Pine Tops for the night, leaving number 6, St James's Crescent to the mob. We did a pub crawl of five pubs in Pudsey and then returned to St James's Cres for a party, but nothing exceptional occurred. Steve passed out in an armchair and David went deathly white and dashed off to a bed. Susan and Peter just sat on top of one another in the usual way. Karen danced, and Tim played at disc jockey. Ate cold pizza and supped gallons of wine and ale. Ally and I were drawn together once again and at 3am we were alone in the dining room listening to Harold Melvin's 'Don't Leave Me This Way'. Pepper, the dog, proved himself to be something of a nuisance, but we managed to get rid of him. Things became quite romantic ______.
-=-
We had turkey sandwiches at Burley and then went over to Pudsey at 7:30 to meet Karen, Steve, Jill and Tim. Diane was out babysitting. Tony and Hilda offered to do an exchange visit by coming over to join Mum & Dad at Pine Tops for the night, leaving number 6, St James's Crescent to the mob. We did a pub crawl of five pubs in Pudsey and then returned to St James's Cres for a party, but nothing exceptional occurred. Steve passed out in an armchair and David went deathly white and dashed off to a bed. Susan and Peter just sat on top of one another in the usual way. Karen danced, and Tim played at disc jockey. Ate cold pizza and supped gallons of wine and ale. Ally and I were drawn together once again and at 3am we were alone in the dining room listening to Harold Melvin's 'Don't Leave Me This Way'. Pepper, the dog, proved himself to be something of a nuisance, but we managed to get rid of him. Things became quite romantic ______.
-=-
20170315
Friday April 13, 1979
_. Good Friday
Day off. Alison walked in after breakfast from Burley where she arrived late last night. She looks well, and didn't mention John Pinder, and so we avoided the subject too.
A hot, sunny day. At 11:30 with Alison and Sue we went to collect Janet Simon, and then went on to Wendy Wools to pick up Sue's pay, and a pair of shoes. A strange thing to do you may think, but Alison and I did it without question and walking around Guiseley carrying a pair of size 5 women's shoes didn't seem remotely funny.
We went to the Commercial for a few drinks and roast beef sandwiches. Janet is experiencing pre-marital bother and she and the obnoxious Robert have terminated their relationship.
At 2pm [the pubs close at 2 because it is Good Friday] we went back to Otley and basked in the warmth of the Spring sunshine. Real shirt sleeve weather. Alison wanted some pottery from an obscure shop, but of course it was closed because of the season. I know I have said this before but why Oh why couldn't Christ have been crucified on a Wednesday, because it makes such a mess of what could be a perfectly wonderful Friday. Mind you, Good Wednesday doesn't have quite the right ring about it.
From Otley we collected Lynn from her place of work. Saw David Greenwood ______________. Back to Burley in W for drinks with Lynn and Dave and afterwards we headed for the Red Lion where we spent the evening. Got pissed up and Ally and I realised we have an affinity. My flirting and footling around with Ally seemed to embarrass the others. Sue and Peter argued all night and bringing us home he collided with a roundabout and several rose bushes at the Fox and Hounds. Home in one piece.
-=-
Day off. Alison walked in after breakfast from Burley where she arrived late last night. She looks well, and didn't mention John Pinder, and so we avoided the subject too.
A hot, sunny day. At 11:30 with Alison and Sue we went to collect Janet Simon, and then went on to Wendy Wools to pick up Sue's pay, and a pair of shoes. A strange thing to do you may think, but Alison and I did it without question and walking around Guiseley carrying a pair of size 5 women's shoes didn't seem remotely funny.
We went to the Commercial for a few drinks and roast beef sandwiches. Janet is experiencing pre-marital bother and she and the obnoxious Robert have terminated their relationship.
At 2pm [the pubs close at 2 because it is Good Friday] we went back to Otley and basked in the warmth of the Spring sunshine. Real shirt sleeve weather. Alison wanted some pottery from an obscure shop, but of course it was closed because of the season. I know I have said this before but why Oh why couldn't Christ have been crucified on a Wednesday, because it makes such a mess of what could be a perfectly wonderful Friday. Mind you, Good Wednesday doesn't have quite the right ring about it.
From Otley we collected Lynn from her place of work. Saw David Greenwood ______________. Back to Burley in W for drinks with Lynn and Dave and afterwards we headed for the Red Lion where we spent the evening. Got pissed up and Ally and I realised we have an affinity. My flirting and footling around with Ally seemed to embarrass the others. Sue and Peter argued all night and bringing us home he collided with a roundabout and several rose bushes at the Fox and Hounds. Home in one piece.
-=-
Thursday April 12, 1979
_. Escaped from the YP at 3:30 and in Guiseley I obtained a lift home from Papa, who came to meet me.
John, Maria and JPH are home for Easter. Maria had a 'scan' yesterday ~ whatever that might mean, and the doctors say she is not expecting a multiple birth. Her due date is August 2.
Watched 'The Song of Bernadette' ~ an ancient religious epic, and then devoured a hot curry. Decided to go out with John tonight, but Maria and Sue said they wanted to come too, so that's that. Chippy will have a seizure if a woman appears in the Shoulder on the boys night out.
Out at 8:30 to the Shoulder with John, Maria, Sue and Janet Simon. Pete N is in with Chippy, Neil and Dave W, but they left minutes later ~ Pete being incredibly childish. Refusing to socialise simply because it is Thursday.
We had fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's because Maria has a fixation. She told me that the baby, if a boy, may be Charles.
-=-
John, Maria and JPH are home for Easter. Maria had a 'scan' yesterday ~ whatever that might mean, and the doctors say she is not expecting a multiple birth. Her due date is August 2.
Watched 'The Song of Bernadette' ~ an ancient religious epic, and then devoured a hot curry. Decided to go out with John tonight, but Maria and Sue said they wanted to come too, so that's that. Chippy will have a seizure if a woman appears in the Shoulder on the boys night out.
Out at 8:30 to the Shoulder with John, Maria, Sue and Janet Simon. Pete N is in with Chippy, Neil and Dave W, but they left minutes later ~ Pete being incredibly childish. Refusing to socialise simply because it is Thursday.
We had fish and chips at Harry Ramsden's because Maria has a fixation. She told me that the baby, if a boy, may be Charles.
-=-
Wednesday April 11, 1979
_. Warmer today, but still damp. Lynn came from her weekly shopping extravaganza at Morrison's and remained to dinner. David B came from the office seething with rage and hate after a confrontation with Messers Thompson & Spencer on the topic of his diabolical salary. I do believe he receives less than me. I find this mind-boggling. It means he is running a car, a home and a wife on something like £30 a week! I shudder at this because I find it hard to get by ~ and I have no commitments at all. My £30 is beer, whore, and bus fare money. Oh dear.
To change the subject Sarah and I are back communicating with each other. We plan to go to Lanzarote together in the autumn to stay with John & Sheila. Will this come about, or am I writing balderdash in order to fill a blank page? Wait and see, but at the moment we are deadly serious.
The election campaign dominates the news. I am saying nothing, but my mind is made up, and I don't need to be convinced by any political party and so I can ignore the whole thing until May 3.
Princess Michael of Kent has named her son Frederick. I am quite taken aback by this. It hasn't been used as a first Christian name in the Royal Family since Frederick Augustus, Duke of York [1763-1827], the _Grand Old Duke of York_ the second son of George III. Before him we had Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales [1707-51] who is the new baby's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Of course, George III was George William Frederick, and George V was George Frederick Arthut George, and George VI was Albert Frederick Arthur George. So it isn't altogether an alien name. Princess Michael's brother is Baron Frederick von Reibnitz.
Retired to bed at 1:00am.
-=-
To change the subject Sarah and I are back communicating with each other. We plan to go to Lanzarote together in the autumn to stay with John & Sheila. Will this come about, or am I writing balderdash in order to fill a blank page? Wait and see, but at the moment we are deadly serious.
The election campaign dominates the news. I am saying nothing, but my mind is made up, and I don't need to be convinced by any political party and so I can ignore the whole thing until May 3.
Princess Michael of Kent has named her son Frederick. I am quite taken aback by this. It hasn't been used as a first Christian name in the Royal Family since Frederick Augustus, Duke of York [1763-1827], the _Grand Old Duke of York_ the second son of George III. Before him we had Frederick Lewis, Prince of Wales [1707-51] who is the new baby's great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather. Of course, George III was George William Frederick, and George V was George Frederick Arthut George, and George VI was Albert Frederick Arthur George. So it isn't altogether an alien name. Princess Michael's brother is Baron Frederick von Reibnitz.
Retired to bed at 1:00am.
-=-
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