Wednesday March 17, 1982

 St Patrick's Day - Bank Holiday in Ireland & the Republic of Ireland

Bugger St Patrick. A man on the radio this morning stated that St Patrick was in fact Welsh. Very dubious.

Bacon sandwiches and tea for breakfast. The suspense about Ally's condition is on our minds all day. We try not to think about it and promise not be disappointed if a baby isn't on the way. In quiet moments though, supping tea at work and buried behind the Daily Telegraph, my thoughts drift over to Bradford and that litttle woman, without whom life would be pointless and not worth living.

YP: Carol's diarrhoea. Kathleen's mum diarrhoea. Went out and bought waders -just in case. 

James Anderton says the country is being undermined by Marxists and that nothing is safe. I couldn't agree more, Jimmy. I filled in some coupons from the national papers and despatched them to the Police Federation agreeing with them that capital punishment should be restored. Obviously, not a snowball in Hell's chance, but at least I've expressed my opinion. I am all for hanging, flogging, cutting off ears, fingers, toes, noses, anything to bring peace and quiet back to our streets. We've all gone soft in the head.

-=-

Tuesday March 16, 1982

 YP: Carol's diarrhoea continues, and to make matters worse Kathleen's mum is now overcome by the illness too. Kathleen had to go home early to muck out Brooklands Close.

Sarah was amiable and almost like her old self.

On March 11 and March 13 PHS of the Times Diary was speculating about the Garter. He reported that the last occasion upon which the Queen made a single appointment was Lord Ashburton in 1969. This is incorrect. Lord Casey was also appointed a KG in 1969. The last single appointment was Viscount Cobham in 1964. I wrote to this PHS chappie enclosing a list of all Garter knights appointed since 1952. Am I becoming a crank?

Ally and I dined by candlelight at 6:30, chicken soup, bacon, sausages and eggs. The phone rang. It was Sarah asking us to dine on Saturday. Startling. __________.

Watched TV. Humphrey Bogart, Lauren Bacall and Edward G. Robinson. Ally is unimpressed by these old John Huston films and cannot understand my fascination. She says I only like them because I'm supposed to. Sorry, but that isn't me.

To bed at 9:30 with Lord Mountbatten.

-=-

Monday March 15, 1982

 Ally is the most beautiful creature in the whole world. I sit and fix my eyes on her, soaking every bit in until she spots me, becomes restless, and looks up from her book. Luscious.

YP dull. Carol has diarrhoea, and leaves at 12. Margot suffers from some affliction which prevents her working after lunch. Sarah spent the afternoom grousing about Trevor's sisters, who are very annoyed that their children haven't been invited to their wedding. Nephews are a little too close to be ignored, I fear. Cousins, yes.

Diana: pale and thin

Home for chicken stew and dumplings at 5:30, still in daylight. Ally has a delicious tale of Frank and Bessie's weekend trip to Le Harve with the ghastly Winchester Rotary Club people. Apparently, one of their number, an alcoholic, went berserk on the rough Channel crossing and had to be kept under close guard locked in his cabin. What's more, the incarcerated gent is president of the club. Bessie giggled like a schoolgirl when she related this tale to Ally this afternoon. Gillian was absent today, and so Ally had a better day.

The Princess of Wales looks pale and thin on page 1 of today's YP. Pregnancy doesn't suit everyone, does it? Lord Spencer, we are told, is hoping for a grandson to solve the 'succession problem' and kill Michael English's Bill stone dead. Johnny is such a sensible man and I feel sure that his KG will be well received. Bed at 10.

-=-

Sunday March 14, 1982

 3rd Sunday in Lent

Out of bed at 11:30. I made an enormous fried breakfast and large pot of tea. We sat smiling at one another over our cups. Ally loves and admires my fried creations. She compares then to the photos one sees in glossy food magazines. The way to make a good fried breakfast is not to let the frying pan think it's in charge. Always show the kitchen utensils who is the boss. Romantic, that is until the handle snapped on my china cup, sending a deluge of hot tea over the mahogany table. The breakafast things were cleared away very quickly.

An afternoon of tranquil repose. Watched 'The Cruel Sea' on the BBC. A good, sloppy naval tale with a cast of thousands. Donald Sinden so young he had acne, &c.

Chicken for dinner. We are so greedy. To bed at 10. Mum phoned just as I turned out of the light. They are safely returned from Scotland. JPH is growing up. They bought him a belt of which he is very proud.

-=-

Saturday March 13, 1982

 John and Maria were joined together in Holy Matrimony six years ago this day. I sent them a card bearing the following verse:

'Sing, dance and cheer, for our John and Maria,'

'Who now for six years have been wed'

'To Scotland they went'

'Now the money's all spent'

'And I don't think they get out of bed'

Mum and Dad went to Stranraer yesterday with Jim and Margaret. I can picture the mad, heaving party at Port Patrick. Ally foolishly spent all day doing housework and then at 4:00 we went to Morrison's and spent £16, quite a lot for us.

[Deletion of personal and graphic medical details]

Jackie and Barry came at 8. We had a pub crawl to the 'Fiddler's Three', the 'Fire Brigade', the 'Drop Kick', and the 'Royal'. Barry is such amiable company. I attempted to play on the 'Space Invader' machine and give Barry a game, but blew myself up every time. Jackie seems so happy. They are going to join us with Dave L on April 3 for my birthday. Home at 11:30 and had a curry from over the road.

We closed the evening with lemon wine and Advocaat. Pissed. Jackie and Barry left after 1:45am.

-=-

Friday March 12, 1982

 Stubbornly refused to climb out of bed until the very last moment. Felt slightly rough after Mary's ridiculously extravagent measures of whisky. We were lectured on race relations last night. We were told that the Indians and Pakistanis are a far superior race to the rebellious West Indian and Caribbean types. The latter, we were told by the mindless ladies, all carry enormous chips upon their shoulders, and will never let us forget that they were once enslaved. The recent Toxteth rioters were not the turban-wearing types.

Ally and I are disgustingly boring this evening. Spaghetti for dinner [very unsubstantial]. We sat snuggled together until 9 o'clock when the ice skating championships from Copenhagen drove us upstairs to bed.

-=-

Thursday March 11, 1982

 I spent the day at the YP dwelling on Knights of the Garter and various statistics. I have discovered that since her accession to the throne the Queen has appointed no fewer than thirty eight knights companion. Her first appointment was Sir Winston Churchill in 1953. Twenty eight KGs were peers at the time of their creation and two [Avon and Slim] were ennobled later. Of all the 38 knights only one was unmarried [Amory], and surprisingly, two [the Earls of Avon and Radnor] were divorced, and re-married. This means that Earl Spencer isn't barred from the order as I surmised yesterday. The average age at the time of their appointment is 66, and of the 38 the youngest to be appointed was the 10th Duke of Northumberland, aged 45 at his elevation in 1959. The oldest gent to collect his KG from the Queen was the late Earl of Iveagh, aged 81 in 1955. The first life peer was Lord Casey [1969], and the only former prime minister now honoured is Sir Harold Wilson [1976]. Alec Home is a Knight of the Thistle. When are we going to see a black KG? Lord Chitnis, a Paki life peer, does good work for the Rowntree Tust. Is he a possibility? Perhaps too controversial, and the Queen doesn't do controversy. there are no non-royal women KGs. Ladies of the Garter to date are the Queen Mother, Princess Juliana of the Netherlands and the Queen of Denmark. When are we to have female knights companion? When Mrs Thatcher retires as PM in 1995, after three terms of continuous office, will HM give her the Garter? How would she be styled? 'Lady Margaret Thatcher, KG', or 'Margaret, Lady Thatcher, KG'? I shall have to consult Sir Anthony Wagner on this. Interesting, eh?

Home at 6. Over to see Mary [Moore] at 7:30. Sat with an enormous whisky until after 12. A pair of mindless and nauseating females joined us, putting me into a long silence. I cannot abide silly, giggly women. Mary is far superior, intellectually. Thank God for Ally's brains and good sense.

--

Wednesday March 10, 1982

 The deaths of two former chancellors of the exchequer, Amory and Butler, create two vacancies among the Knights Companion of the Order of the Garter. Will Her Majesty fill these vacancies on St George's Day? It is a great pity that Harold Macmillan never accepted. Edward Heath is out of the running, and so is [James] Callaghan. Lord Spencer would have been a candidate had he not divorced his first wife, and it's a little too early for Roy Jenkins. I'm backing the Master of the Horse, Lord Westmorland, and Cliff Richard.

Prince Edward is 18 today and the prospect of seeing him Duke of Cambridge or Sussex is a little gloomy. Gloomy for the present anyway. They are going to have to give him something before he finds a bride because what will we call her if not? Princess Edward, yes, but Princess Edward of where? The future bride requires a territorial designation.

Phoned Dave L tonight. It's been ages since we communicated. Ally sat writing and injecting some conversational note into my telephone banter. I filled Dave in on the baby Nason saga, and we arranged to go out for drinks on April 3, to celebrate my birthday. To bed, not too late.

-=-

Tuesday March 9, 1982

 Budget Day. A mild one, that is the budget, not the day. Rain.

Lord Butler of Saffron Walden, KG, died yesterday. He was perhaps the greatest post-war chancellor, who should have been prime minister.

Out at 6:30 to Guiseley for fish and chips with Sue & Peter. Christopher had slept for most of the night. Sue looks so content now. Peter bounced his son around and wore that proud expression that only new fathers have. Peter clutched his baby. I clutched a large whisky and Ally a port and lemon. 

We discussed finances and mortgages, brought on by Sir Geoffrey Howe. Pete is of the opinion that we should buy a larger house and have a bigger mortgage.

On to Pine Tops to spend a couple of hours with Mum and Dad. Pine Tops is up for sale for £37,500. A man from Edison's put up a sign this morning.

-=-

Monday March 8, 1982

 David Andrew Baker is 26. Auntie Mabel is 63.

Don't feel communicative. Came home from the YP and found Ally hiding in the kitchen and looking peculiar. Ethel Greenwood had been banging on the wall with her walking stick [a parcel for us had been left there] and for some reason she refused to answer the old girl's summons. Mary [Moore] came across and was knocking on the door, and so with banging from every side Ally decided to hide at the head of the cellar. She is in a highly nervous state and looks exhausted.

Fish fingers. Sue phoned and invited us for tea tomorrow.

Ally was in bed and out cold by 9:30. I sat reading 'Mountbatten' by Richard Hough. I cannot get into it, and find this Hough man offensive. I'm not surprised that Countess Mountbatten has attempted to halt the publication. I read in bed, but it disturbed Ally, and so I switched off at 10:30.

It's the Budget tomorrow. Sir Geoffrey [Howe] won't clobber us too hard because he may only have one more budget to present before the next general election.

-=-

Sunday March 7, 1982

 2nd Sunday in Lent

Hungover. Ally provided me with two invaluable paracetamols and I attempted to battle on. Dave, even at 10am, was doing his books. I marvelled at his dilligence. There he was with a pocket calculator. [He now runs the pub with his mother]. 

Bacon and eggs. Sadie, the German Shepherd, is a fine specimen, and not the vicious, unfriendly dog I expected. Ally was quite taken with the frisky young thing. It's interesting that none of the lads seem to like drinking in the Hollywood these days, and so we had to venture back to the Robin Hood. The fun and warmth of last night is gone and the lads are as lively as a lump of cheese. Garry has been dull since Joanne returned to Jersey. 

Ally reminded me that I was also referring to Anne's bullied Jack Russell as a 'ferret'.

Back at the Hollywood we had turkey for lunch and watched Clint Eastwood's ridiculous [film] 'Magnum Force', which Dave recorded last night. After lashings of tea we left at 7:30. Exhausted, but happy. Home at 8:30. Bed.

-=-