Thursday December 24, 1981

 Christmas Eve. Snow. YP until 12. Central until 2. Home at 3. Burley in Wharfedale at 5.Guiseley at 6. George & Dragon, Apperley Lane at 8. Splendid dinner.

-=-

Wednesday December 23, 1981

 Pay day. Received lots of money. Vast amounts in fact. Went out at lunchtime, sliding across town, looking for gifts for Ally. I bought her a suspender belt and received some odd glances in the process. Bought a record of Debussy's 'Claire de Lune'. Bought a fountain pen because in the New Year Ally is to keep a diary. Yes, a rival diary. It's a wonderful thought because I hate being the solitary commentator on the earth shattering events occurring in 20th century West Yorkshire. Ally's version of life will no doubt be a healthy competitive narrative, don't you think? After all, didn't Wordsworth's life receive the added complement of his sister Dorothy's writings?

-=-

Tuesday December 22, 1981

 You aren't getting much today. In fact you're getting nothing at all. It is the festive season after all.

-=-

Monday December 21, 1981

 To the YP. Back from the YP. God save the YP. Kiss my arse, the YP. 

Ally came to Leeds to deliver a contract and met me at 2pm. We went to Da Mario's for food. I had a panzerotti and she had a lasagne. Mine was brill.

Life would be such fun if Ally worked in Leeds. She went shopping afterwards and picked me up at 5. She managed to get rid of her awkward present buying.

-=-

Sunday December 20, 1981

 4th Sunday in Advent

Thick snow falling throughout. It's OK for the likes of Bing Crosby but he doesn't have to shift the bleedin' stuff, does he? 

We have the table set, the cocktail cherries ready and expect a nil turnout because of the weather but not so. We had a flickering fire, enough booze to sink a ship, and Ally looking like a debutante from the 1950s.

The first guest to arrive was Mary Moore from across the road. She is a splendidly eccentric spinster who tells us that for a bet she once swam across Dover Harbour on Christmas day. It was too cold she says, because she wasn't properly greased. Others arrived. Cousin Jackie was followed by Sarah and Trevor [unbelieveably] and then the family. A real shindig.  Quite perfect. Dad had to dig the car out and he and Mum came with Lynn, Dave and Frances. Jacq & Paul, Karen and Steve, Dave L, Hilda and Tony the last to arrive and the last to leave. 

-=-

Saturday December 19, 1981

Dickensian?

 Deep and crisp and even. Up very early and left Ally clad in her pale blue nightie. Walked to Charlie Brown's at Girlington and bought a car battery costing £24. The walk was something reminiscent of a lunchtime in a Russian labour camp.

A bright, crisp, and almost Dickensian day. Send for Nicholas Nickleby.

Back at Club Street I inserted the new battery and, as if by divine intervention, old Norman from across the road came staggering past and he took an immediate interest in Audrey's spark plugs, and he fiddled around helpfully. He gave life to the hapless vehicle. I am eternally in his debt. How can we thank him? He walked away in the deep snow with a look of my dear Uncle Albert stamped all over him.

Ally and I to Morrison's. Spend a king's ransom on party food. On to Lazenby's at 11pm. [Tony] Harney was violently sick and collapsed in the bathroom. Otherwise a quiet party. Home at 2am.

-=-

Friday December 18, 1981

 Snow abounds. Christiana Ross was born this day in 1865. To the YP as usual. I have yet to make editor.

Audrey wouldn't start and so we resolved to buy a new car battery tomorrow. We sat watching TV quite calmly knowing full well that we are about to wave goodbye to £22.

-=-

Thursday December 17, 1981

 Went into town at lunch to buy presents for Ally. Blue gloves from C & A and a bottle of Christian Dior's 'Diorissimo' which cost £11.50. 

We intended going out tonight to buy food for our Christmas party, but we couldn't dig the car out to go to Morrison's. The battery is flat [again], and the snow doesn't help. We sat with long faces grumpily eating fish and chips.

Ally has received a Christmas card from the Pinders addressed to Miss Alison Dixon.

-=-

Wednesday December 16, 1981

 Snow and Poland. Little else.

The snow delayed my journey and I didn't get home until 7:45pm. Coronation Street was in full swing when I fell through the door blue with cold and shaking with rage. I had been stood outside the YP for an hour, and the temperature on the clock there proclaimed 21F.

Club St or Gstaad?

For the first time in many years the River Aire has frozen in Leeds. Some say that it last froze over in 1963, and you always get one who throws in 1947. I certainly never remember anything quite like it.

We dined on spaghetti. She was worried about me. I've never been so late home. Not like _____ who only returns home to his wife when the pub closes.

Dad phoned asking for his car battery charger. His car is having trouble now. No way can we dig out the car and drive over. Club Street looks like Gstaad.

After thawing in front of the TV we retired to bed.

-=-

Tuesday December 15, 1981

Wichita Lineman.

 A slight thaw in the day, but deep snow lays. Infuriating day at the YP. Kathleen is insane. She constantly hums and sings Glen Campbell's 'Wichita Lineman'. It slowly irritates.

Slipped and slid across town at lunchtime to buy minced beef for dinner. Must have looked like Robin Cousins.

At 3:30 Kathleen announced that the weather was taking a turn for the worse and gave us leave to quit the office early. I left in the company of Roy Holland, who drove me home in his little sports vehicle. He came in for a pee, and, like most people, expressed his approval of our humble home. I am very proud of it, and stood, nose in the air, like Lord Hertford amidst his Grinling Gibbons.

Christmas cards behind the door. Eight in all. Ate mince beef, Yorkshire puddings and pancakes. Sat on our cushions relaxing I heard Mrs Greenwood knocking on the wall. Rushing round thinking something was wrong she was struggling to light her gas oven. It lit for me. 

Watched dismal 'Brideshead [Revisited]. 

News: The Queen, caught by the snow, was forced to seek refuge in a two-star hotel near Bristol for seven hours on Sunday. Poland is in a poor way. Brezhnev will go in at Christmas.

-=-

Monday December 14, 1981

 Deep snow which blocked most of the local roads. I'm sitting at Club Street. An eerie silence from the road outside which is usually packed with vehicles.

Up at 6:30. Ally walked to the AHA. No buses, so I phoned Margot to give the YP a miss. Sarah phoned later, just to check up on me. Susan phoned for all the gossip from Stockport.

Club Street.

I went next door to see Ethel Greenwood,who was sitting in a chair next to her bed.She was delighted to see someone. Her son Sammy cannot visit because of the snow. She gave me 'six shillings' to buy her a loaf of bread, and asked me to make her bed, which I did gladly. She does repeat herself a lot, but she's very good for 93. 

My snow-clearing was buried beneath fresh snowfall, and a thick blanket was spread over Lidget Green by the time Ally came in. 

We had a disagreement about opening Auntie Elsie's Christmas present, and quarrelled for a few hours. It's depressing to fall out, and a rarity these days.

My wife has given me a beautiful Christmas card. _________.

To bed with hot chocolate. The news is dominated by Poland. Such a bore. Switched off the TV and went to bed with Stanley Baldwin. I suppose it's work for me tomorrow.

-=-