_. Ally and I were in Bradford all day concluding the Christmas shopping horror. The whole day was a nightmare, like a scene from 'War and Peace'.
Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter came for dinner to Club St, at 8. A few drinks around the record player. Nothing outrageous occurred and they all left at about 12. We sat up until after 3.
-=-
20200404
Friday December 21, 1979
_. Ally did some Chrissie shopping in Leeds and collected me at 4:30. We went to Guiseley and found Mum and Dad sat by the light of the Christmas tree hand in hand. Dad was very emotional on the subject of Uncle Albert [Wilson], who died 10 years ago on Dec 29. At 9:30 Ally and I went to the White Cross where Peter and Jim and a few work mates are coming to the end of a 12 hour drinking session. Jim and Peter came back to Pine Tops.
-=-
-=-
20200403
Thursday December 20, 1979
_. Up and out to the YP early to avoid Dad. I phoned Mum at Burley but she didn't answer. I then phoned Lynn. ____. At 7pm Mum phoned me, then Dave came here to collect Dad to take him to Burley for a 'reunion'. Ally came at 8:30 and we went to the Drop. Some hideous Carol singers came in. I could have strangled them. On to Oakwood. Got thoroughly sozzled. Found a wheel trim and brought it home for Dad, at 3am. I stole into Susan's room and she informed me that Mum & Dad are once again under the same roof. Such a relief. My silly parents - behaving like Rod Stewart and Britt Ekland.
-=-
-=-
Wednesday December 19, 1979
_. Wasn't that a delightful little diversion? For the first time in the seven year history of this journal I handed over the pen to another. Subsequently, the entries for the last few days have not been my own, but those of Miss Alison Mary Dixon.
It was a ghastly day... or should I say night? Out at 7pm with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J to Salvo's. I had first been to tea with Auntie Delia at Ivory Towers. The annual YP library Christmas 'nosh up' is always a failure, and even Kathleen's planned absence didn't help. We spent £10 from the kitty which was donated by an obliging Swede for whom we made photostats of the Yorkshire Ripper cuttings. In other words we dined out courtesy of the Yorkshire Ripper. Despite the paper hats and plastic whistles the evening was a bore. At home Mum and Dad were extremely frosty. Things haven't been too good lately and the sound of raised voices penetrated the bedroom wall, and I realised only to well that I was in for 'one of those nights'. Mum got up and drove to Burley.
-=-
It was a ghastly day... or should I say night? Out at 7pm with Sarah, Eileen and Carol J to Salvo's. I had first been to tea with Auntie Delia at Ivory Towers. The annual YP library Christmas 'nosh up' is always a failure, and even Kathleen's planned absence didn't help. We spent £10 from the kitty which was donated by an obliging Swede for whom we made photostats of the Yorkshire Ripper cuttings. In other words we dined out courtesy of the Yorkshire Ripper. Despite the paper hats and plastic whistles the evening was a bore. At home Mum and Dad were extremely frosty. Things haven't been too good lately and the sound of raised voices penetrated the bedroom wall, and I realised only to well that I was in for 'one of those nights'. Mum got up and drove to Burley.
-=-
Tuesday December 18, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
"After a good two hours sleep in Michael's bed it was once again the hour of doom! I struggled to leave the warm folds of the continental quilt, and so, as usual these days, I was late for work. Just for a change, the evening was spent in each others company beginning with a visit to 7, Lawn Road, where we were greeted with delight and tumblers of whisky. I had Christmas cards waiting for me from the Pinder residence in Southampton addressed to 'C/O Mr & Mrs D. Baker'.
Michael and I left the always busy Bakers ironing and screwing brass handles on kitchen cupboard doors to spend a couple of hours in togetherness. But, as if fate wants to thwart of solitude, George Waite joined us for the remainder of the evening at the Fox and Hounds.
I think I have said enough now, so.... just remember ... Miss Melissa Teasdale, a loved one, thanks the author of this journal Michael Lawrence Rhodes for the very great honour bestowed!
-=-
"After a good two hours sleep in Michael's bed it was once again the hour of doom! I struggled to leave the warm folds of the continental quilt, and so, as usual these days, I was late for work. Just for a change, the evening was spent in each others company beginning with a visit to 7, Lawn Road, where we were greeted with delight and tumblers of whisky. I had Christmas cards waiting for me from the Pinder residence in Southampton addressed to 'C/O Mr & Mrs D. Baker'.
Michael and I left the always busy Bakers ironing and screwing brass handles on kitchen cupboard doors to spend a couple of hours in togetherness. But, as if fate wants to thwart of solitude, George Waite joined us for the remainder of the evening at the Fox and Hounds.
I think I have said enough now, so.... just remember ... Miss Melissa Teasdale, a loved one, thanks the author of this journal Michael Lawrence Rhodes for the very great honour bestowed!
-=-
Monday December 17, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
"Once again, the evening was an unbelievable success.... we seem so inseparable .... who would have ever thought it?
Debbie was hostess for the night ... a private 18th birthday party at 'Jeeves' in Burley-in-Wharfedale. Susie stole the limelight wearing a little black, split-skirt number! After driving a dismayed Gus home - [he had somehow smashed a sink in the gents and the manager had threatened him with: 'pay up, or we'll see you in court.'] I sat drinking hot Nescafe with Michael.
-=-
"Once again, the evening was an unbelievable success.... we seem so inseparable .... who would have ever thought it?
Debbie was hostess for the night ... a private 18th birthday party at 'Jeeves' in Burley-in-Wharfedale. Susie stole the limelight wearing a little black, split-skirt number! After driving a dismayed Gus home - [he had somehow smashed a sink in the gents and the manager had threatened him with: 'pay up, or we'll see you in court.'] I sat drinking hot Nescafe with Michael.
-=-
Sunday December 16, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
...... "Feeling slightly delicate. I was made to go downstairs at noon to eat fried eggs! The faithful Spitfire managed to carry my Christmas tree and couple of 'very close friends' to Club Street. We stopped off at the 'Second West' pub in Lidget Green. Afterwards Michael and I were amazed at the skill David G showed for hanging balls, wrapping buckets with Christmas paper, &c.
Dear Auntie Nora made us all welcome later with Yorkshire puddings and roast pork... this, combined with a pre-dinner aperitif, and Riesling with the dinner, knocked us all out. The evening ended to the delightful descant tones of Michael and David snoring".
-=-
...... "Feeling slightly delicate. I was made to go downstairs at noon to eat fried eggs! The faithful Spitfire managed to carry my Christmas tree and couple of 'very close friends' to Club Street. We stopped off at the 'Second West' pub in Lidget Green. Afterwards Michael and I were amazed at the skill David G showed for hanging balls, wrapping buckets with Christmas paper, &c.
Dear Auntie Nora made us all welcome later with Yorkshire puddings and roast pork... this, combined with a pre-dinner aperitif, and Riesling with the dinner, knocked us all out. The evening ended to the delightful descant tones of Michael and David snoring".
-=-
Saturday December 15, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
"Love is ... letting a loved one write in his precious, sodding, bugger of a diary."
"Today was Christmas tree picking day!! After frantic phone calls from the Baker residence pleading with me to get up.... we went, Lynn, David, Chris, Julie and Dave Allinson, and me, in a howling gale ... to select six delightful Christmas trees from a farm in deepest Bramhope. During this time my precious Michael was out entertaining his quaint Stockport guest at one [possibly many] of the drinking houses in Guiseley. The afternoon continued with pre-Christmas festivities. Whisky and home-brewed hock being favourites.... Michael and Lynn, typical sister and brother, arguing over which colour Christmas paper to wrap around the barrel of the tree. Tree decorations, wassail cups, flying everywhere. My beloved, as he promised many weeks ago, insisted I dress in 'kagool' and wellies and dragged me out into the wild evening to pick holly. A truly romantic setting! A quick half pint of punch at Peter Lazenby's didn't go amiss. In fact, after Harry R[amsden's] fish and chips we caused something of an uproar in the Drop and the Yorkshire Rose tap room, then Guiseley Working Mens' Club - Michael dressed in one of his father's old boiler suits and flat cap, and David Glynn is a hideous red tie, beret, and suit jacket with stuffed birds stitched to the shoulder. A sight not to be missed! Lazenby's party was wonderful, to say nothing for the 'bloody hot curry'. Lights went out at 7am on Sunday morning.
-=-
"Love is ... letting a loved one write in his precious, sodding, bugger of a diary."
"Today was Christmas tree picking day!! After frantic phone calls from the Baker residence pleading with me to get up.... we went, Lynn, David, Chris, Julie and Dave Allinson, and me, in a howling gale ... to select six delightful Christmas trees from a farm in deepest Bramhope. During this time my precious Michael was out entertaining his quaint Stockport guest at one [possibly many] of the drinking houses in Guiseley. The afternoon continued with pre-Christmas festivities. Whisky and home-brewed hock being favourites.... Michael and Lynn, typical sister and brother, arguing over which colour Christmas paper to wrap around the barrel of the tree. Tree decorations, wassail cups, flying everywhere. My beloved, as he promised many weeks ago, insisted I dress in 'kagool' and wellies and dragged me out into the wild evening to pick holly. A truly romantic setting! A quick half pint of punch at Peter Lazenby's didn't go amiss. In fact, after Harry R[amsden's] fish and chips we caused something of an uproar in the Drop and the Yorkshire Rose tap room, then Guiseley Working Mens' Club - Michael dressed in one of his father's old boiler suits and flat cap, and David Glynn is a hideous red tie, beret, and suit jacket with stuffed birds stitched to the shoulder. A sight not to be missed! Lazenby's party was wonderful, to say nothing for the 'bloody hot curry'. Lights went out at 7am on Sunday morning.
-=-
Friday December 14, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
"Michael, having washed all the drinking vessels, staggered into bed with me! __________.
A venture into Leeds to collect M's wage packet was followed by a strange little drink at the Peacock, in Yeadon. The smell of deep fried scampi affected Michael in an adverse way, and so I drove the sick looking alcoholic peasant back to his doss house. Four hours later saw the arrival of Sir Arthur Sidebottom, the Australian sports correspondent [aka David Glynn]. The Drop and the Fox & Hounds had the honour of our presence.
-=-
"Michael, having washed all the drinking vessels, staggered into bed with me! __________.
A venture into Leeds to collect M's wage packet was followed by a strange little drink at the Peacock, in Yeadon. The smell of deep fried scampi affected Michael in an adverse way, and so I drove the sick looking alcoholic peasant back to his doss house. Four hours later saw the arrival of Sir Arthur Sidebottom, the Australian sports correspondent [aka David Glynn]. The Drop and the Fox & Hounds had the honour of our presence.
-=-
Thursday December 13, 1979
_. [In Ally's own hand]
[as dictated by Mr Michael Firefly]
It was with great relief that the author regained consciousness feeling much better in himself. Miss Dixon now takes up the tale:
"On arrival, not only was a glass of the famous QC sherry handed over, but also a glass of home brewed carrot wine. The night was enhanced by the joviality of Mr & Mrs Baker, the Rt Hon James Nason and his glorious wife Madame Margarette. [deletion] .... the authoress is aware that people like to shoot grouse occasionally.
-=-
[as dictated by Mr Michael Firefly]
It was with great relief that the author regained consciousness feeling much better in himself. Miss Dixon now takes up the tale:
"On arrival, not only was a glass of the famous QC sherry handed over, but also a glass of home brewed carrot wine. The night was enhanced by the joviality of Mr & Mrs Baker, the Rt Hon James Nason and his glorious wife Madame Margarette. [deletion] .... the authoress is aware that people like to shoot grouse occasionally.
-=-
Wednesday December 12, 1979
_. [compiled by Ally's own hand]
My darling Michael was far from present at the delightful YP. My little heart sank as Carol informed me of his whereabouts... at home in his bed! The spitfire, minus petrol, got me to his side. I threw his letter at him and left. I waited for him to ring, but no, as usual he left me in despair. My pianoforte sounded out of tune as my delicate fingers bashed out the notes of the 'Fairy Waltz' - I played like I have never played before!
After his visit from 'Miss Melissa Teasdale' the aforementioned Mr Rhodes took to his bed in a haze of delirium and Lemsips. Goodnight!!!!
-=-
My darling Michael was far from present at the delightful YP. My little heart sank as Carol informed me of his whereabouts... at home in his bed! The spitfire, minus petrol, got me to his side. I threw his letter at him and left. I waited for him to ring, but no, as usual he left me in despair. My pianoforte sounded out of tune as my delicate fingers bashed out the notes of the 'Fairy Waltz' - I played like I have never played before!
After his visit from 'Miss Melissa Teasdale' the aforementioned Mr Rhodes took to his bed in a haze of delirium and Lemsips. Goodnight!!!!
-=-
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