_. Up for breakfast. My mother is an ogre and resembles Rumpelstiltskin all morning ~ in fact all day. Our guests must think she is insane. The atmosphere is ghastly throughout. We didn't go out for a lunchtime drink and instead sat looking at old photo albums. Our only adventure was when David G, Alison and I went for a quick ten minute constitutional around Tranmere Park.
It was back to stony silence and an old Peter Finch film. We were so desperate we were reduced to looking through old copies of 'Private Eye' to stir up some amusement.
Motherdear and I reached our 'climax' as it were, and the tension began to subside from then on. We had roast beef for dinner, &c. Afterwards Peter took us (Dave G, Ally, Sue and I) to the Half Way House on Hollins Hill. Not a good pub, and far from interesting. Dave was amusing. He sank a couple of pints straight back without comment, as he must have missed his quota today.
Bed at 1am.
-=-
20180416
Saturday May 5, 1979
_. A bugger of a day really. I woke up and the clock said nine o'clock. I had slept for seventeen hours.
Mum tells me David G is coming by train and will be here by 2pm. The other good news is that dearest Alison is with us once again. She arrived at 1pm and with Sue and Peter we went to the Yorkshire Rose for a 'buppy' (one of Dad's terms for a drink). A hideous scene awaited us. A couple of drunks were drinking themselves into paralysis and were rolling around like animals on the sticky carpet. Another scruffy individual was sleeping in a corner ~ all this and the landlord and bar staff were giggling. Sadly, Mum and Dad intend celebrating their silver wedding anniversary here. To make matters worse the place was swarming with dogs.
On to the Regent and home at 3pm to find David G drinking wine with Mother. At 6pm we went to Salvo's at Headingley for pizzas - well, that is David G, me, Sue, Peter and Alison. Alison is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority on Tuesday.
Afterwards we went to the Taps in Ilkley and then met Lynn & Dave at the Cow and Calf. I didn't like the place. It was packed with twelve year-olds, and so we moved to the Fox & Hounds which is too incredibly boring. When I suggested going on to Roger Ratcliffe's party in Leeds it wasn't well received. Subsequently we returned to Pine Tops in argumentative mood. I had bought a bottle of wine and a party can of ale.
Mum and Dad came in late from Wilsill where they had dined with Jim and Margaret. Squabbled furiously. We played Monopoly until Ally lost the little dog and everyone else fell asleep. Peter stole £600,000 of Monopoly money and slipped it amongst my toytown cash. Subsequently I was accused of cheating. The noise was dreadful. At 3am we woke Mum from her slumbers whilst arguing about the sleeping arrangements. Some very hot tempers flared throughout the household.
-=-
Mum tells me David G is coming by train and will be here by 2pm. The other good news is that dearest Alison is with us once again. She arrived at 1pm and with Sue and Peter we went to the Yorkshire Rose for a 'buppy' (one of Dad's terms for a drink). A hideous scene awaited us. A couple of drunks were drinking themselves into paralysis and were rolling around like animals on the sticky carpet. Another scruffy individual was sleeping in a corner ~ all this and the landlord and bar staff were giggling. Sadly, Mum and Dad intend celebrating their silver wedding anniversary here. To make matters worse the place was swarming with dogs.
On to the Regent and home at 3pm to find David G drinking wine with Mother. At 6pm we went to Salvo's at Headingley for pizzas - well, that is David G, me, Sue, Peter and Alison. Alison is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority on Tuesday.
Afterwards we went to the Taps in Ilkley and then met Lynn & Dave at the Cow and Calf. I didn't like the place. It was packed with twelve year-olds, and so we moved to the Fox & Hounds which is too incredibly boring. When I suggested going on to Roger Ratcliffe's party in Leeds it wasn't well received. Subsequently we returned to Pine Tops in argumentative mood. I had bought a bottle of wine and a party can of ale.
Mum and Dad came in late from Wilsill where they had dined with Jim and Margaret. Squabbled furiously. We played Monopoly until Ally lost the little dog and everyone else fell asleep. Peter stole £600,000 of Monopoly money and slipped it amongst my toytown cash. Subsequently I was accused of cheating. The noise was dreadful. At 3am we woke Mum from her slumbers whilst arguing about the sleeping arrangements. Some very hot tempers flared throughout the household.
-=-
Friday May 4, 1979
_. To Ivory Towers on West End Lane (Horsforth). Delia howled with excitement as I sat on the edge of her bed informing her of Jeremy Thorpe's defeat in Devon and the Tory revival in the land. We ate scrambled eggs and drank the fizz. At 8:30am, in brilliant sunshine, Delia drove Sarah and I to the YP. Kathleen was dumbfounded and very nasty about the Tory victory. She didn't approve of me wearing a blue rosette in the office. Library staff, she thinks, ought to be impartial. Blimey, I'm not the fucking Duke of Edinburgh.
After about half an hour I began quite seriously to lose my powers of speech and vision, and a total inability to type. Sarah took me out at 12 and I slumped, almost unconscious, on a park bench in Park Square. At 2 Kathleen realised I was beyond hope of recovery and sent me home. She wanted the flash of my blue rosette out of the office for sure. I got a bus and slept all the way to Guiseley.
At home I focused only briefly on the telly to see Margaret Thatcher leaving Buckingham Palace as our first woman prime minister, and at 4pm I staggered to bed. Four o'clock in the afternoon and I succumb like an eighty year-old geriatric! Lay in bed with the soothing paralysis creeping upon me and contemplating the idea of a Conservative government. My last act of the day was to let out a burst of laughter at the thought of what Mrs T will do to those revolting trade unionists who get out of hand.
-=-
After about half an hour I began quite seriously to lose my powers of speech and vision, and a total inability to type. Sarah took me out at 12 and I slumped, almost unconscious, on a park bench in Park Square. At 2 Kathleen realised I was beyond hope of recovery and sent me home. She wanted the flash of my blue rosette out of the office for sure. I got a bus and slept all the way to Guiseley.
At home I focused only briefly on the telly to see Margaret Thatcher leaving Buckingham Palace as our first woman prime minister, and at 4pm I staggered to bed. Four o'clock in the afternoon and I succumb like an eighty year-old geriatric! Lay in bed with the soothing paralysis creeping upon me and contemplating the idea of a Conservative government. My last act of the day was to let out a burst of laughter at the thought of what Mrs T will do to those revolting trade unionists who get out of hand.
-=-
Thursday May 3, 1979
_. General Election. Dad got me out of bed at 5:40am and then went out on very early duty to guard the polling station at Oxford Road School.
At five minutes to seven I took Dad's large bicycle and pedalled to Hawksworth village and cast both my votes for the Conservative party. Giles Shaw the parliamentary candidate and old Mr Freeman, the municipal candidate. I was the first person to vote at the polling station. Cycled back to breakfast with Mother and Susan. Yes, my mother emerged from her bed. I haven't seen her up so early since Christmas.
To the YP with Jim (Rawnsley) and the delightful Jennie. An interesting day at the office. Kathleen is convinced that tomorrow we will have a hung parliament and is convinced that one party with a big, working majority will never happen again. "You have to face the facts, Michael," she intoned: "the vast majority of the British public want a middle-of-the-road type of government with a re-emergence of the Liberal party." I cannot see this wishy-washy attitude catching on at all.
Sarah and I went to Len's Bar for lunch. _________.
Home at 5pm in a snow storm. Yes, snow. Bought a bottle of Cinzano and twenty cigs and wished a 'Merry Christmas' to the silly sods out walking dogs. Quite freezing cold.
Mum was in a nasty temper and we argued like rat and dog (sic). Lynn and Dave B arrived at 6:30 followed by Jim N, Margaret and Julie N at 9 o'clock.
From the very start of the election programme on the BBC it was obvious to all that Margaret Thatcher will be prime minister tomorrow. The swing to the Conservative party was something in the region of five or six per cent throughout the nation. I didn't feel particularly pissed but throughout the night we consumed a vast reservoir of alcohol. Lynn was invited to stay the night, but they left at about 4:30am, and poor, dejected Labour supporter and Jim Callaghan fan Jim Nason went weeping on his way at 5:30. Mum and Dad went off to bed and I cleared some of the debris to the sound of screaming birds in the snow-covered trees. Then, as if empowered by some superior force, I grabbed my jacket, with the stuffed bird stitched to the shoulder, my Mark Phillips style flat cap, and bottle of 55p pomagne, and walked to Ivory Towers, about six miles away, for breakfast with Delia and Sarah.
(Now see the following entry)
-=-
At five minutes to seven I took Dad's large bicycle and pedalled to Hawksworth village and cast both my votes for the Conservative party. Giles Shaw the parliamentary candidate and old Mr Freeman, the municipal candidate. I was the first person to vote at the polling station. Cycled back to breakfast with Mother and Susan. Yes, my mother emerged from her bed. I haven't seen her up so early since Christmas.
To the YP with Jim (Rawnsley) and the delightful Jennie. An interesting day at the office. Kathleen is convinced that tomorrow we will have a hung parliament and is convinced that one party with a big, working majority will never happen again. "You have to face the facts, Michael," she intoned: "the vast majority of the British public want a middle-of-the-road type of government with a re-emergence of the Liberal party." I cannot see this wishy-washy attitude catching on at all.
Sarah and I went to Len's Bar for lunch. _________.
Home at 5pm in a snow storm. Yes, snow. Bought a bottle of Cinzano and twenty cigs and wished a 'Merry Christmas' to the silly sods out walking dogs. Quite freezing cold.
Mum was in a nasty temper and we argued like rat and dog (sic). Lynn and Dave B arrived at 6:30 followed by Jim N, Margaret and Julie N at 9 o'clock.
From the very start of the election programme on the BBC it was obvious to all that Margaret Thatcher will be prime minister tomorrow. The swing to the Conservative party was something in the region of five or six per cent throughout the nation. I didn't feel particularly pissed but throughout the night we consumed a vast reservoir of alcohol. Lynn was invited to stay the night, but they left at about 4:30am, and poor, dejected Labour supporter and Jim Callaghan fan Jim Nason went weeping on his way at 5:30. Mum and Dad went off to bed and I cleared some of the debris to the sound of screaming birds in the snow-covered trees. Then, as if empowered by some superior force, I grabbed my jacket, with the stuffed bird stitched to the shoulder, my Mark Phillips style flat cap, and bottle of 55p pomagne, and walked to Ivory Towers, about six miles away, for breakfast with Delia and Sarah.
(Now see the following entry)
-=-
20171204
Wednesday May 2, 1979
_. Yes, to get back to David Steel. His father, the Venerable Enoch Steel, was Moderator of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, 1974-75. Margaret Thatcher's dad was a Lincolnshire grocer, and of course Jim Callaghan didn't have a father. Well, of course, he did have a father, but it seems that Mr Callaghan Snr, a naval man, had a woman in every port.
The Queen will be chewing on her royal finger nails today. Will it be Jim or Margaret? I suppose she'd like it to be dear old Alec [Douglas] Home tottering up the steps into the palace every Tuesday, or even Sir Harold [Wilson]. I believe she was quite fond of that pipe-smoking vagabond in the Gannex raincoat.
Sleet and snow again. December-type weather, in fact. Delia sent me a blue carnation to wear in my coat. Poor Sarah C's view of politics is that "they are all as bad as each other" but I'm sure she'd rather sleep with Max Bygraves than vote Labour. She'd also have David Steel castrated.
David G phoned. I suggested they come over on Saturday. Alison D will be here for the weekend because she is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority next Tuesday. So what looked like a tranquil weekend ahead is now developing into a full-scale orgy of booze and blondes. I'm not complaining though.
Dearest mother was in one of her foul, offensive, almost Mussolini-like tempers and I had little to do with her this evening. Mrs Thatcher isn't the only Iron Lady around here. Mother is more formidable than Leonid Brezhnev, Amy Carter, Lena Zavaroni, and President Tito all put together.
To bed at 11:50pm. Dad is going to wake me at 6am because I want to be the first in out polling station. Hip Hip.
-=-
The Queen will be chewing on her royal finger nails today. Will it be Jim or Margaret? I suppose she'd like it to be dear old Alec [Douglas] Home tottering up the steps into the palace every Tuesday, or even Sir Harold [Wilson]. I believe she was quite fond of that pipe-smoking vagabond in the Gannex raincoat.
Sleet and snow again. December-type weather, in fact. Delia sent me a blue carnation to wear in my coat. Poor Sarah C's view of politics is that "they are all as bad as each other" but I'm sure she'd rather sleep with Max Bygraves than vote Labour. She'd also have David Steel castrated.
David G phoned. I suggested they come over on Saturday. Alison D will be here for the weekend because she is having an interview at Bradford Area Health Authority next Tuesday. So what looked like a tranquil weekend ahead is now developing into a full-scale orgy of booze and blondes. I'm not complaining though.
Dearest mother was in one of her foul, offensive, almost Mussolini-like tempers and I had little to do with her this evening. Mrs Thatcher isn't the only Iron Lady around here. Mother is more formidable than Leonid Brezhnev, Amy Carter, Lena Zavaroni, and President Tito all put together.
To bed at 11:50pm. Dad is going to wake me at 6am because I want to be the first in out polling station. Hip Hip.
-=-
Tuesday May 1, 1979
_. It snowed today, and was generally cold. Happy May Day to you all. More election banter on the tv this evening. An interesting debate chaired by Robin Day between Michael Heseltine, Michael Foot and the late Jo Grimond. It was entertaining to say the least. Mr Foot was glowing with embarrassment and cowering at Michael Heseltine's questioning. Labour is so obviously terrified by the union movement. Even Grimond likened the trade unions to the great landlords of the 19th century, and this brought much applause from the audience. Labour cannot hide from the fact that it has abdicated its authority and passed over the mantle of governing to Moss Evans and the heavy boys at the AUEW, or wherever he hangs out. The TUC is undoubtedly the 'red mafia' in our society, and when the Tories have hammered them all into the ground I feel sure we'll be much better off. I feel positive that the country requires a firm swing to the right on Thursday enabling Mrs Thatcher to lead a full strength government, and not reliant on Liberal support. Another 'hung' parliament would be tragic and a Labour government doesn't bear thinking about. Jim Callaghan would be so smug and bouncy. I'm afraid I couldn't stand it. The polls say it is neck and neck, but I feel in my blue bones that Thatcher will come out on top. Ah well, that's enough politics for one day.
Sue and Pete went out for an Indian and returned at 10:30 breathing fumes all over us. For a racist he does very well in these multi-racial eating joints.
Just Mum, Dad and I at home all night. Took to my bed at 11:53pm. Looked at my Who's Who 1976. Did you know that David Steel's dad was a 'Very Reverend'?
-=-
Sue and Pete went out for an Indian and returned at 10:30 breathing fumes all over us. For a racist he does very well in these multi-racial eating joints.
Just Mum, Dad and I at home all night. Took to my bed at 11:53pm. Looked at my Who's Who 1976. Did you know that David Steel's dad was a 'Very Reverend'?
-=-
Monday April 30, 1979
_. Denise sent me the holiday bill which has to be paid by May 13. A further £162.73 is required, and this means we will have paid £182.73 for what was advertised as a £156 holiday. They have a nerve, don't they? And let's not forget, this is only bed and so-called breakfast. You can't call a hard bread roll and a spoonful of green marmalade a breakfast can you?
Rang Dave G with the dreadful news. He was undisturbed by it, and we joked about the Bournemouth trip. At least he is on speaking terms with Neil again. Peter N came up late, at 9:20, and he brought with him a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream sherry and some cans of lager, and fish and chips. Where has he found the cash? Peter Nason is Guiseley's answer to the Duke of Westminster.
Watched a programme about Margaret Thatcher on the BBC. She is really coming over brilliantly in this campaign and her message is put over with force and conviction. Which is more than can be said of the Ayatollah Callaghan. He has made an astonishing attack on poor Edward Heath, and the only reason why I think he has done this is that he is suffering from the delusion that Mr Heath is still the leader of the Tory Party. Why attack Edward Heath?
Bed at 1:15am after discussing the National Front with Papa.
-=-
Rang Dave G with the dreadful news. He was undisturbed by it, and we joked about the Bournemouth trip. At least he is on speaking terms with Neil again. Peter N came up late, at 9:20, and he brought with him a bottle of Harvey's Bristol Cream sherry and some cans of lager, and fish and chips. Where has he found the cash? Peter Nason is Guiseley's answer to the Duke of Westminster.
Watched a programme about Margaret Thatcher on the BBC. She is really coming over brilliantly in this campaign and her message is put over with force and conviction. Which is more than can be said of the Ayatollah Callaghan. He has made an astonishing attack on poor Edward Heath, and the only reason why I think he has done this is that he is suffering from the delusion that Mr Heath is still the leader of the Tory Party. Why attack Edward Heath?
Bed at 1:15am after discussing the National Front with Papa.
-=-
Sunday April 29, 1979
_. Felt dull and nauseous for most of the day. Only my dinner at 6:30pm restored me to normality.
Dad and Jim were once again sprawled under the car and Jim remained to dinner. So did Peter N.
Bing Crosby on the telly this afternoon and Marilyn Monroe tonight. I can see from the movie why she actually killed herself. __________.
Laughed at Auberon Waugh, who is standing on Thursday in Jeremy Thorpe's constituency, for, I think, the Dog Lovers' Party. The ghastly Jeremy doesn't see the funny side of this for some reason. To bed after 12, Read 'The Corps of the Royal Military Police' by Crozier. Don't worry, I'm not thinking of joining.
-=-
Dad and Jim were once again sprawled under the car and Jim remained to dinner. So did Peter N.
Bing Crosby on the telly this afternoon and Marilyn Monroe tonight. I can see from the movie why she actually killed herself. __________.
Laughed at Auberon Waugh, who is standing on Thursday in Jeremy Thorpe's constituency, for, I think, the Dog Lovers' Party. The ghastly Jeremy doesn't see the funny side of this for some reason. To bed after 12, Read 'The Corps of the Royal Military Police' by Crozier. Don't worry, I'm not thinking of joining.
-=-
20170906
Saturday April 28, 1979
The Daily Mail says the Queen was 'badly shaken' and the YP says she was 'unshaken' in last night's car accident so I suppose the truth lies somewhere in between. Let's say, shaken not stirred, eh?
Jim Nason came up at the crack of dawn and he and Dad spent the whole day flat on their backs underneath the car. Welding I believe. And all for the sake of some crumbly MOT. I simply couldn't stand the strain of owning a vehicle. One day I will have to go mobile but for the time being I am staying on my own two feet.
This afternoon I took to a hot, soapy bath with Paul Gambaccini, and wallowed in the steaming firmament. Lynn and Dave came here at 7:30 and Peter joined us before we left for Jill and Tim's engagement party at Farsley Celtic Football Club.
Uncle Tony looked exhausted and I think the coming election is preying on his mind. Guests included Uncle Peter and Auntie Jean. Peter says he's "voting for Maggie" next Thursday which surprised me.
The girls and most of the menfolk danced in formation until after 12. Susan and Diane are just like sisters. The resemblance was noted by many there. Why does my sister [Lynn] always wear trousers? I haven't seen Lynn in a dress for years, and her legs are so slender too.
Back at Auntie Hilda's afterwards Lynn was passing round the sandwiches and nibbles and one of Tony's Asian friends declined a pork pie. "Oh come on, or I'll put you on my black list!" she exclaimed. Black List!
Jill was rolling me cigarettes. Poor Tim fell through a glass door, and then slept on a rug in the lounge frying on the gas fire. Home at about 3:30am. Headache.
-=-
Jim Nason came up at the crack of dawn and he and Dad spent the whole day flat on their backs underneath the car. Welding I believe. And all for the sake of some crumbly MOT. I simply couldn't stand the strain of owning a vehicle. One day I will have to go mobile but for the time being I am staying on my own two feet.
This afternoon I took to a hot, soapy bath with Paul Gambaccini, and wallowed in the steaming firmament. Lynn and Dave came here at 7:30 and Peter joined us before we left for Jill and Tim's engagement party at Farsley Celtic Football Club.
Uncle Tony looked exhausted and I think the coming election is preying on his mind. Guests included Uncle Peter and Auntie Jean. Peter says he's "voting for Maggie" next Thursday which surprised me.
The girls and most of the menfolk danced in formation until after 12. Susan and Diane are just like sisters. The resemblance was noted by many there. Why does my sister [Lynn] always wear trousers? I haven't seen Lynn in a dress for years, and her legs are so slender too.
Back at Auntie Hilda's afterwards Lynn was passing round the sandwiches and nibbles and one of Tony's Asian friends declined a pork pie. "Oh come on, or I'll put you on my black list!" she exclaimed. Black List!
Jill was rolling me cigarettes. Poor Tim fell through a glass door, and then slept on a rug in the lounge frying on the gas fire. Home at about 3:30am. Headache.
-=-
Friday April 27, 1979
Felt acutely rough all day. Kathleen laughed at my condition. I determine to stay by my own fireside tonight. I was horrified looking into my wallet this morning. I spent £10 last night at the Elma and at Oakwood (Hall).
Speaking to Dave W I told him that last Thursday was my very last 'Thursday night with the lads'. ___________.
So, tonight I stuck to my resolve and sat like a chunk of vegetation before the TV set. The Queen was involved in a road accident en route from Heathrow to Windsor this evening. She wasn't injured but her chauffeur-driven Rover was badly pranged. A spokesman said Her Majesty was unshaken by the incident, but I suspect she must live in fear of kidnap by the IRA.
Bed at 1am.
-=-
Speaking to Dave W I told him that last Thursday was my very last 'Thursday night with the lads'. ___________.
So, tonight I stuck to my resolve and sat like a chunk of vegetation before the TV set. The Queen was involved in a road accident en route from Heathrow to Windsor this evening. She wasn't injured but her chauffeur-driven Rover was badly pranged. A spokesman said Her Majesty was unshaken by the incident, but I suspect she must live in fear of kidnap by the IRA.
Bed at 1am.
-=-
20170817
Thursday April 26, 1979
Back to the YP. Pay day. It has been like a dream missing one full week of the general election campaign. Let us hope and pray that Mr Callagas is not re-elected next week. Labour until 1984 would just about finish us all off. We are already on a par with Mozambique, and I do suppose that the populace of the Spanish Sahara are living in opulence in comparison with the starving masses of Bradford and the industrial north. Margaret Hilda (Thatcher) will be our salvation.
I fully intended staying at home tonight but Chippy phoned at 7:30 and I gave in. I do give in very easily when pleasure is dangled like a carrot before my beady, donkey-like eyes.
Out to the Shoulder at 8:15. Micky H_____ is out too but he leaves at 9:30 to go commit adultery. This is terrible. His poor wife is expecting a baby in May. On to the White Cross and the Commercial. I wasn't in the mood for the Elma, and we all realised this was a mistake, so we moved on to Oakwood Hall. Bought Dave W his entry in and his booze all night. Got drunk. Met Steve Hudson and my 'Oakwood girl' Sarah. Home for cheese on toast and coffee at about 2am.
-=-
I fully intended staying at home tonight but Chippy phoned at 7:30 and I gave in. I do give in very easily when pleasure is dangled like a carrot before my beady, donkey-like eyes.
Out to the Shoulder at 8:15. Micky H_____ is out too but he leaves at 9:30 to go commit adultery. This is terrible. His poor wife is expecting a baby in May. On to the White Cross and the Commercial. I wasn't in the mood for the Elma, and we all realised this was a mistake, so we moved on to Oakwood Hall. Bought Dave W his entry in and his booze all night. Got drunk. Met Steve Hudson and my 'Oakwood girl' Sarah. Home for cheese on toast and coffee at about 2am.
-=-
Wednesday April 25, 1979
Ate the usual breakfast washed down with oceans of splashing tea, and left at 10am without saying goodbye to Arthur or to Lady Spencer-Churchill, his wife. I have stolen a very large sun parasol from the hotel which will make a splendid present for Lynn and David. I could not possibly hand over this piece of 'hot' stolen property to dear Daddy, who is a fine, upstanding member of our local law enforcement establishment. Questions would be asked in the House and 'Panorama' would dedicate a whole thirty minute programme to the incident should it ever reached the courts. We Rhodeses are VIPs in this area, you know.
I was in charge of navigating the route homeward. Back up to Devizes and then we by-passed Oxford and joined the M1 at Northampton. Before hitting the motorway we indulged in a few drinks, but were put off somewhat by the very noisy, endless political discussions going on in the bar. Politics and alcohol should never meet and be avoided at all costs.
God only knows how Alison gets from Winchester to Leeds in only three and a half hours. We didn't reach Guiseley until just after 7pm. Bill and Garry were unimpressed by Harry Ramsden's and I was moaned at for quite some time. We went off to Lynn and Dave's at 7:30 and we watched TV and sat with them for a couple of hours. They were very impressed by the large, gaily coloured umbrella. David promises to make a stand for it to adorn the garden this summer. Lynn is always so amiable and wonderful with visitors. Both Lynn and Dave are smoking cigars on an increasing scale. Back home at 9:30 where Mum and Dad sit laughing at Billy. They left after 10:30. It is good to go away, but equally nice to be home. Everything looks so incredibly tidy.
-=-
I was in charge of navigating the route homeward. Back up to Devizes and then we by-passed Oxford and joined the M1 at Northampton. Before hitting the motorway we indulged in a few drinks, but were put off somewhat by the very noisy, endless political discussions going on in the bar. Politics and alcohol should never meet and be avoided at all costs.
God only knows how Alison gets from Winchester to Leeds in only three and a half hours. We didn't reach Guiseley until just after 7pm. Bill and Garry were unimpressed by Harry Ramsden's and I was moaned at for quite some time. We went off to Lynn and Dave's at 7:30 and we watched TV and sat with them for a couple of hours. They were very impressed by the large, gaily coloured umbrella. David promises to make a stand for it to adorn the garden this summer. Lynn is always so amiable and wonderful with visitors. Both Lynn and Dave are smoking cigars on an increasing scale. Back home at 9:30 where Mum and Dad sit laughing at Billy. They left after 10:30. It is good to go away, but equally nice to be home. Everything looks so incredibly tidy.
-=-
Tuesday April 24, 1979
At breakfast Billy remarked how incredibly thirsty he was (alluding to the locked bar) to which Arthur replied: "That's why I have given you an extra large tea pot." It was wonderful just to watch Billy's face. Arthur deserved an Oscar too.
As usual Neil and the silent twosome cleared off while I was still attacking the toast, but we didn't mind in the least. Miserable sods.
At 9:30 we went by car on another jaunt across the southern countryside. Lymington Spa, or is it just plain Lymington? Anyway, we found ourselves at Beaulieu and after a few drinks (12-2pm) we went to the National Motor Museum and then visited Palace House where Lord Montagu hangs out. The old cars were fascinating but I didn't rate the house. Not a patch on Castle Howard.
Lord Montagu of Beaulieu was charged with indecency back in the 1950s. But I believe he is now a reformed peer, and has put groping around in public lavatories behind him.
Back to Bournemouth for fish and chips and then out for more drinks. Tonight our bedroom drinks party became quite riotous. Garry demolished Billy's bed and destroyed a couple of towel rails. We had to swap the furniture from room 17 upstairs, and at one point Garry thought he was Terry Wogan, the Irish lunatic.
-=-
As usual Neil and the silent twosome cleared off while I was still attacking the toast, but we didn't mind in the least. Miserable sods.
At 9:30 we went by car on another jaunt across the southern countryside. Lymington Spa, or is it just plain Lymington? Anyway, we found ourselves at Beaulieu and after a few drinks (12-2pm) we went to the National Motor Museum and then visited Palace House where Lord Montagu hangs out. The old cars were fascinating but I didn't rate the house. Not a patch on Castle Howard.
Lord Montagu of Beaulieu was charged with indecency back in the 1950s. But I believe he is now a reformed peer, and has put groping around in public lavatories behind him.
Back to Bournemouth for fish and chips and then out for more drinks. Tonight our bedroom drinks party became quite riotous. Garry demolished Billy's bed and destroyed a couple of towel rails. We had to swap the furniture from room 17 upstairs, and at one point Garry thought he was Terry Wogan, the Irish lunatic.
-=-
Monday April 23, 1979
St George's Day
To Poole in Dorset this morning to explore the town. Fell into a few bars. Things just were not the same without Alison's company and we talked about her all the time. I really should begin a Miss Dixon fan club. Ate salmon sandwiches and drank a few pints of Stella Artois. This Philippe Junot-like lifestyle cannot go on forever. How long will the cash last out?
Back in Bournemouth this evening we went for a curry, which was like fire. I only had a prawn madras but I felt like I was being cremated from the inside. We took booze with us back to the Gainsborough because the so-called licensed bar remains under lock and key. Billy says he is going to see Arthur about this tomorrow.
Garry is a lonely lad, and I can see where he is going wrong. He wants the companionship of a lady (who doesn't?) but he never goes to the right places to find one. _______________.
-=-
To Poole in Dorset this morning to explore the town. Fell into a few bars. Things just were not the same without Alison's company and we talked about her all the time. I really should begin a Miss Dixon fan club. Ate salmon sandwiches and drank a few pints of Stella Artois. This Philippe Junot-like lifestyle cannot go on forever. How long will the cash last out?
Back in Bournemouth this evening we went for a curry, which was like fire. I only had a prawn madras but I felt like I was being cremated from the inside. We took booze with us back to the Gainsborough because the so-called licensed bar remains under lock and key. Billy says he is going to see Arthur about this tomorrow.
Garry is a lonely lad, and I can see where he is going wrong. He wants the companionship of a lady (who doesn't?) but he never goes to the right places to find one. _______________.
-=-
20170613
Sunday April 22, 1979
_. Low Sunday.
The pizzas last night were diabolical. Just thought I'd say that. Had a usual breakfast at the usual time and at about 11 we headed off for Alison's at Martyr Worthy. I had been feeling guilty about dragging the lads away to Winchester but following yesterday's session I don't think I could keep them away, especially Garry who is very smitten.
Alison was bashing the top of her boiled egg, looking so voluptuous in her dressing gown. Mrs Dixon, as usual, was staggering around her mansion with a vague expression on her face. In fact she looked pale and ill.
At 12 we ventured to the Plough in Itchen Abbas for drinks and sandwiches. Graham was working in the bar with Midge, the landlady, who is the image of comedian Ronnie Barker when in drag. Had a quite a heavy drinking session and went on afterwards to Winchester to look at the cathedral. A hot, sunny afternoon too.
Back to Alison's for apple wine and a session on the piano. Poor Bill slipped into a coma. At about 7 we went to the Ship Inn for grub and more poisonous liquid and then back to the Plough to conclude the day's activities. Bill was really on top form, and was incredible all evening and at times I almost wet myself laughing. A more sensitive and genteel mob would have been more than slightly embarrassed.
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The pizzas last night were diabolical. Just thought I'd say that. Had a usual breakfast at the usual time and at about 11 we headed off for Alison's at Martyr Worthy. I had been feeling guilty about dragging the lads away to Winchester but following yesterday's session I don't think I could keep them away, especially Garry who is very smitten.
 |
| With Alison at Winchester Cathedral |
At 12 we ventured to the Plough in Itchen Abbas for drinks and sandwiches. Graham was working in the bar with Midge, the landlady, who is the image of comedian Ronnie Barker when in drag. Had a quite a heavy drinking session and went on afterwards to Winchester to look at the cathedral. A hot, sunny afternoon too.
Back to Alison's for apple wine and a session on the piano. Poor Bill slipped into a coma. At about 7 we went to the Ship Inn for grub and more poisonous liquid and then back to the Plough to conclude the day's activities. Bill was really on top form, and was incredible all evening and at times I almost wet myself laughing. A more sensitive and genteel mob would have been more than slightly embarrassed.
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20170610
Saturday April 21, 1979
._. 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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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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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.
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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.
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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. _________.
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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. _________.
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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.
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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.
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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. ______________________________.
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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. ______________________________.
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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.
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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.
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