Sunday November 29, 1981

 _. No sooner were we out of bed when a sharp knock at the door heralded the arrival of cousin Jackie and a bundle of apricot fur, supposedly pertaining to be a six week old Poodle pup. We had a few drinks, and I accidentally stood on the yelping fur ball several times, but life was not extinguished. Jackie was here to stay. We watched a vintage Margaret Rutherford film together with glasses of home-brewed sherry, and then Jackie, a district nurse, left at 4:30 to give an insulin injection to a diabetic gentleman. 

Ally and I continued drinking until evening. I taped some music from the radio. Ally compiled a Christmas card list, and we sat, long faced, through a hideous Royal Command Performance.

We have decided to throw a Sunday afternoon Xmas party on December 20. Phoned Mum, Lynn, Sue and Auntie Hilda.

The Borgias, on TV. Rabbit and Yorkshire pudding. Bed at 11.

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Saturday November 28, 1981

 _. Slept until after 11. Then, in a flurry of activity, Ally took a bucket and went out to clean Audrey before setting to work on the windows. It was a cold day. I ventured outside to glue something onto the car that had fallen off during Audrey's lengthy stay at Jack Andrews garage. I almost had to glue back vital extremities which were frozen and close to falling off my person in the Arctic conditions. Watching Ally from the window I realised that all the other elderly residents of Club Street were doing the same. Funny how old ladies spend a lot of time peeping over their potted geraniums through lace curtains.

At 3 we headed into the metropolis to have a sudden, yet successful spend. Bought Sarah a demijohn for her two week wine. Bought Mum Nigel Dempster's 'Princess Margaret: a life Unfulfilled' [for her birthday]. Took a flower painting to be framed. It will cost £22. Bought Ally a diary. Yes, I am to have a rival in the literary field. I suppose it will be very interesting in years to come for us, and indeed you, dear reader, to look back and view two different accounts of our 'goings on'. I find keeping this journal very time consuming, and yet to call a halt and finish would be like severing a limb. It and I are now joined forever.

Home made pizza. 

Began a still life bowl of fruit and wine bottle on a yellow table. Happy with it. 

We watched 'What Ever Happened to Baby Jane' with Bette Davis and Joan Crawford. Ally, can you believe, had never seen this much viewed so-called spine chiller before. Bed after 1.

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Friday November 27, 1981

 _.It is rumoured that the Princess of Wales is booked into the Lindo Wing at St Mary's Hospital, Paddington, in the second week in June, and under an assumed name. We are told that the Queen has canceled a state visit to Sweden in June because Queen Silvia is expecting a baby, but surely the cancelation is because of a birth closer to home?

YP dismal. 'Mrs Slocombe' is such a crashing snob. I blame the Toxteth riots on Mrs S's attitude to coloured types. Her bigoted ramblings grown worse with every passing day. I have noticed that those who propogate racial discrimination are generally uneducated, ignorant and very small minded.

Terry Fletcher, a YP reporter, followed Shirley Williams around Crosby for two days and says she cannot be matched for her incredible ability to talk to all people from all walks of life. She has, he says, an answer for everything and no journalist there could come any way near to breaking her. Mr Fletcher has returned to Leeds convinced that Mrs Williams will one day be prime minister. I'm not sure. Her appearance lets her down very badly. She is almost a female version of Michael Foot. Just imagine her at the Cenotaph in crumpled orange Crimplene and anorak, her fuzzy hair blowing. Besides, she's a Roman Catholic, and I think we have yet to have an RC PM.

Mushroom soup. Mince, sprouts, dumplings, &c. Mum phoned in a state of great excitement to say that Auntie Mabel has won a Christmas food hamper to the value of £97. I phoned auntie to offer congratulations. Characteristically she says she wept like a baby on receiving the news.

Somebody has offered Ally £240 for Audrey. My God? Thank goodness the weekend is here. We sat until 10 and then bed called.

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Thursday November 26, 1981

 _. Thanksgiving Day, USA.   New Moon.

Last night I shaved off my so-called beard which has adorned my adonis features since Sept-Oct. I have a feeling I last shaved on the morning of Jill and Tim's wedding. As you know I am a feeble grower of facial hair. My legs are like young and vigorous forests, but alas from the waist up I'm a desert.

YP quite pleasant.My two tips to Bob are in today's paper. 

Out at 12 to have a short haircut at Fred's on Boar Lane. I then walked around town killing time and met Ally at 2. We arranged to meet outside a sweet shop and she caught me devouring a packet of Rolos. We went to Kirkgate market and bought a rabbit and enough veg for a harvest festival. We bought JPH a toy in Boots. By 4 it was dark and cold and so we headed for home. 

We had fish and chips and went to Guiseley for 7:30 to see Mummy and Daddy. He is much improved, but cannot return to work for another week. Jim and Margaret arrived at 9, and we left at 11:30. Ally tottered up to bed and I sat and watched the results of the Crosby by-election. Shirley Vivien Teresa Brittain Williams, PC is elected to serve as an SDP MP with a 5,000 majority. In 1979 the Tories held the seat with a 19,000 majority and so it's a major, disastrous juxtaposition. However, a similar phenomenon occurred at Orpington in 1962 when Eric Lubbock [now Lord Avebury] snatched the constituency for the Liberals. Is the SDP here to stay, or is it a flash in the pan? 1984 will reveal all.

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Wednesday November, 25, 1981

 _.Couldn't get out of bed. Felt quite unable to work. Ally in a similar state. Is it the curry?

I struggled to the YP. Gave two tips to Bob Cockroft. The Countess of Rosse has given birth to a son. They are connected to Womersley Park at Doncaster, of course, and Lord Rosse is a half-brother of the Earl of Snowdon. The other tip was the engagement of Richard Clephane Compton, of Newby Hall, to Lucinda Hohler. Compton is a second cousin of the Princess of Wales, both descended from the 3rd Duke of Abercorn.

Phoned Mummy. Lynn walked up to Pine Tops with Frances in the pram collecting Susan on the way, and Peter joined them for lunch. News of a family gathering is heart warming.

Left the YP at 4:30. Ally peaky and complaining of her tummy. 

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Tuesday November 24, 1981

 _.Out of bed at 6:30 to find a gruesome picture awaiting us. Snow, only finely spread, but snow all the same. We shudder at the thought of months of toil in the frozen wasteland that is Lidget Green.

YP: Sarah off with one of her headaches. Kathleen and Carol went off this afternoon to a microfilm extravaganza or whatever, leaving me and Margot.

Is the revolting Shirley Williams going to take Crosby for the SDP? That is the question. By 1984 will all the political parties be led by women? Thatcher in the blue corner, Williams in the yellow/pink SDP collage corner, and ... er... perhaps Gwyneth Dunwoody over in the red? I think Shirley Williams would stand for the Stuffed Rat and Bucket Party if she thought she stood a chance being elected.

Phoned Guiseley for my daily bulletin on Papa's eye. He is still in pain and his eye is aggravated by the light, and so he is walking around the house looking sinister in dark glasses.

Home at 6. Cousin Jackie came to see us at 7:30 with a Billy Connolly LP and stayed until after 11. She seems lonely now that she and Peter are on the rocks and says she is heading to a life of spinsterhood. Next week she is collecting an apricot poodle, called Ben. We discussed families, especially ours, and the useless bickering. What can be done? Our branch continues to stick together.

At 10:30 I went over the road and bought a curry.

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Monday November 23, 1981

 _.YP dismal. Mrs Slocombe is back from London, but nobody mentioned it. Sarah says her wedding now seems to be fixed for April 16, 1982. The press report that the Princess of Wales returned to Althorp to see her Daddy last Friday for the first time since her marriage. A tearful and joyous reunion, by all accounts.

Phoned Mum at 3. Sue and Pete took them to the hospital this morning. Dad's eye is progressing. He has to return on Thursday. He sent a cheque with us on Friday for Di and Paul's engagement, but it was lost in the palatial vastness of the civic centre, and has been canceled.

Home at 6. It's cold and wet. Ally in the hustle and bustle of kitchen, emerging from the steam of the boiling pans looking quite beautiful. Bessie phoned. They were in Jersey for the weekend, and are going to Guernsey next weekend.

Dined and then watched a programme on the BBC about Cliff Richard [no doubt to you readers in 2067 he's now Lord Richard of Chiswick, OM, GCB, CH].

Later, Ally stood ironing and I sprawled on the sofa, feet up watching a cowboy film. We switched off at 10 and went to bed.

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Sunday November 22, 1981

 _.Last Sunday after Trinity

Slept for twelve hours and finally climbed out of bed to escape Noel Edmonds on the bedroom radio. Is it any wonder that his wife has gone crazy?

Another breakfast of late 19th Century Sandringham proportions. All that was lacking was Lillie Langtry and the deviled kidneys. Mind you, Ally with her bobbed hair and fantastic waist is Bradford's answer to the Jersey Lily.

We sat afterwards discussing Audrey. Sadly she has to go. Ally wants a Mini, and good old English rust instead of the Continental crumbling.

Watched the Sunday film. Alan Ladd in a good old Arthurian film 'The Black Knight'. Say no more.

To Wilsby at 5:30 for dinner with Hilda and Tony, Diane and Paul. We took a bottle of home-brewed sherry. Dinner excellent. Mounds of Yorkshire pudding. Hilda and Tony are in very good spirtits. They are disgusting night rakes and seldom go to bed before 1:30am. Watched The Borgias, which we missed last Wednesday. Hilda found the 14th century male costume to be a source of amusement. She announced that the lump in the Holy Father's cassock must be where he keeps his lunch.

Home at 11:30, and so to bed.

-=-

Saturday November 21, 1981

 _.Slept all morning and awoke feeling decidedly dead. My hideous condition mainly due to lack of sleep and not alcohol consumption. I staggered over the road, in the drizzle, like a zombie, and wandered around the Co-op buying bacon, beans, and a loaf for our sumptuous breakfast. The lady in front of me in the queue was buying a very large box of tampons. Brunch with Ally 12-1. Afterwards we went to Morrison's and then to Guiseley to see Mum and Dad who are later dining with Lynn and David. Home at 6:45. Lasagne. Bed at 9:30pm.

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Friday November 20, 1981

 _.Out of bed, as usual at 6:30, and over breakfast we discussed both taking the afternoon off, but decided against it. We have precious little time to prepare before Christmas and intend to venture soon to York and the delights of Habitat.

To the YP. Mum phoned at 9:30 to say Dad has a badly infected eye from a fragment of rust which he managed to contract whilst on his back beneath the Toyota. They went by taxi to Bradford Royal where Ally joined them. 

I had a dull morning and at 12:50 I decided to leave. Bus to Bradford. Ally at the wheel of Audrey came to collect me with Mum and a dreadful looking Dad. His eye bandaged and looking pale and sickly. I don't think I've ever seen Papa looking so rotten. On to Pine Tops to deposit them. We bought fish and chips, had a few drinks and listened to music.

To Pudsey Civic Centre at 7:45. Ally looking chic in a new woollen frock. Diana and Paul's engagement party. I think the Civic centre is too big a venue for a comfortable orgy. 150 people eating and dancing and yet the place felt empty. Sue, Pete, Lynn, Dave, Jill, Tim, Karen, Steve, Phil and Denise, cousin Jackie and cousin Stephen [well over 6ft]. Hilda invited Ally and I to dinner on Sunday. A great honour. We escaped the 'dance hall' and took to the bar for the night. At 12 to the Sanderson residence until 4:30am. Talking to Karen about the ins and outs of modern day dentistry. Believe it or not, Karen is an authority on Prince Edward's teeth. Steve snored throughout. Home at dawn and to bed.

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Thursday November 19, 1981

 _.Busy at the YP. Sarah was a away at a funeral. Just a great-uncle. Margot was back, limping, but looking very well. She is in fact a very nice girl, who always seems to say more when the other girls are away. Mrs Slocombe is in fact a very Mussolini-like figure. I suppose I play Neville Chamberlain in the office, or perhaps Count Ciano. 

Gave Bob [Cockroft] a tip. Lord Deramore's daughter, the Hon Ann de Yarburgh Bateson, 31, is engaged to an Irishman. With a surname like that I don't suppose she stacks shelves in Tesco.

Home to my 're-designed' wifelet at 6:15. Cousin Diane is 18 today, and in Gadsby tradition she became engaged to be married. Ally went out at lunchtime and had her fuzzy hair re-styled and considerably shortened. Bit of a 'Peter Pan' creation. Tonight she was clad in canary-yellow plus-fours and woolly socks. We had a curry and watched 'Top of the Pops' and looked at our money. 

The Pakistani family have quit the corner shop here at Club Street. The children used to watch us, from a perch in an upstairs window. 

Lynn phoned at 8:30 to see if we want a lift to 'the ball' tomorrow. With a bit of luck Audrey will be back with us by then. We brewed some lager. Blissful domesticity.  Bed after 11.

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