Monday October 11, 1982

 Columbus Day, USA - Thanksgiving Day, Canada

Raising Mary Rose.

What's this Columbus Day? The Tudor flagship Mary Rose was raised this morning and its ancient timbers saw the first light of day since July 1545 when it went down with all hands before a purple King Henry VIII. The Prince of Wales was present to witness the surfacing. Sadly, they found no survivors. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of Sir George Carew, the admiral, thrashing around in the deep clad in his hose and doublet.

Home from the YP. No curtains. The little creep in the curtain shop has forgotten us. Ally stood pulling faces at the offending red, striped curtains which we thought we'd seen the last of. We ate lasagne and watched 'Coronation Street'. Phoned Guiseley and spoke to John. Mum and Dad have been looking at a pub in Darley and have gone to see Joe and Anne Grunwell. John's thinking of going to Scotland at the weekend, if he isn't working on Teesside. 

Read Fanny Hill. Ally weary. Bed after 11. Ally says my cocoa is getting worse.

[Bessie phoned on Thursday I've just remembered. Philip and Carol Middlebrough's baby is to be called Thomas].

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Sunday October 10, 1982

 18th Sunday after Trinity

I awoke to find myself facing a blank, unfamiliar wall. Ally heaped up behind me. The bed was too small. Steve was on the phone downstairs. He had slept in late and was arranging to play football at 10. Karen made toast and marmalade and awful tea and she excused herself by saying she never drinks the stuff. She was drinking Coca Cola. Ally looked dreadful. John's eyes pink. After the marmalade we escaped to Rue Club. We sat with sandwiches, drugs and coffee watching David Niven and June Allyson on the BBC. John left at 3:30 and we lounged on. Ate fish. Fanny Hill. TV. Bed. Our new curtains come tomorrow.

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Saturday October 9, 1982

 Fanny Hill is the most sexually explicit thing I've ever had the fortune to read. It's hard to imagine it was written 200 years ago. 

Up at 8 o'clock, and finished off painting the front door. I am now that person I would have roared with laughter at five years ago. Painting a door shrouded in the autumn mist of early morn. Silly bugger.

Ally made haste to the Co-op and then we had breakfast. I bottled beer and then waited for the paint to dry before we went into town. The hot bus made Ally feel faint. We bought a lampshade for the kitchen and other odds and ends. 

If you think my handwriting has deteriorated then blame the fountain pen which is more or less knackered. It hasn't had a new nib since April, 1973. 

Salad sandwiches. Splashed in the bath. John came at 6:45 with the lounge door which he has restored. We went to the Farmers' Arms at Stanningley at 9. Joined by Lynn, Dave, Sue and Peter. On to Karen and Steve's, where we were joined by Jill, Tim, Phil and Denise. We all drank punch, which is fatal. Susie looked chic in a boiler suit with her hair swept up. Lynn was fat and frilly. John had a roaring time. Ally went to rest in a darkened room at 1am. Blame the punch. To bed there at about 2 or 3. I arranged to see Di for a drink next Thursday.

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Friday October 8, 1982

 Back to the YP. No comment on my day off but I did detect an icy note in Kathleen's welcome. She thinks I've been laying carpets for two days. 

Koo Stark.

Sarah has filled me in on the 'Koo Stark Affair'. On the BBC news last night we were privileged to see photos of the naked body of 'soft porn' actress Kathleen Norris 'Koo' Stark, 25. The starlet and her very obvious attributes have been cast into such prominence because Prince Andrew has taken her and a party of friends to Mustique. It would appear that the foolish prince has been having an affair with Miss Stark since February. She has been to Balmoral and, according to one rag, has slept at Buckingham Palace. A pleasant intruder into the prince's bedroom. I have always thought of Prince Andrew as being too self-assured, and full of himself. He does not enjoy the popular appeal of the more restrained Prince of Wales. The boy obviously thinks he can get away with anything following the wild reception he received coming back from the Falkland Islands. However, public opinion is a temperamental thing. The Queen, in Australia, will not be 'seething' as some news reports suggest, but I suppose she'll be saying 'told you so' to her naughty, wayward, second son.

Fish fingers with Piglet. To bed at a reasonable hour. Reading Fanny Hill by John Cleland.

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Thursday October 7, 1982

 Ally went into to the AHA and had a peculiar conversation with Derek [Jenkins]. She isn't allowed to take a day off for a strike day because he says it will interfere with her superannuation, whatever that is. She yesterday came out of her flexi-leave. I sat at home and waited for the carpet fitters. A little man came and fixed the gas fire. Ally and Dave Watts came in at lunchtime and he looked at the pipe which is still dripping. 'Do not worry', was his comment. Two carpet fitters arrived at 2 and spent 90 minutes. I was fascinated. They make the job look so easy. By 3:30 we had a plush deep green floor which lends an air of sophistication to our dwelling. Tidied the place up and when Ally came in at 5, I had a blazing fire, and Ella Fitzgerald on the turntable. The house looks wonderful. 

Phoned Dave L to remind him about Saturday. He'll be away at the Nottingham Goose Fair. Bed late.

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Wednesday October 6, 1982

 I am resolved to take the day off. Ally phoned the AHA to say she was having the day off as a strike day [today is a TUC day of action]. She phoned Sarah to say I wouldn't be in because I have a cold. I have really landed the YP in it. It will be Hell. Carol J is off, and of course Margo is in Paros with her lover. 

Steve O'Connor, a roofing contractor, came and climbed around on the roof. He says he can make repairs for £12 a square yard instead of the usual £20, and says a new roof, which is needed, will cost us £500. 'Why not apply for a council grant?' he says. Ally phoned and they say we could possbibly have a 90 per cent grant but that there is a long waiting list. We'll wait. Painted the front door. St David, the patron saint of central heating boiler systems, paid a visit and dispelled our fears. He didn't think the system needed draining and came back at 7 with Jean [Watts], and made a poultice [is that sic?]. He says Ally is a born worrier. He is quite right of course. We looked at impressive photographs of Switzerland. I am also taking tomorrow off too to supervise the laying of the new carpet.

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Tuesday October 5, 1982

 Awakened at 6:35am by a loud and irritating knocking at the door. Threw on a pullover and staggered downstairs to find the postman with a parcel, which proves to be a chunk of Frank and Bessie's Pearl Wedding cake. Ally was fuming. This put her in a black mood. I went down and boiled eggs, leaving her boiling in the bath.

Karen is 23 today. MM will also be celebrating in his furniture shop. The day that began badly grew steadily worse. Mum and Dad arrived this evening and while putting back a radiator we discovered yet another leak. We have rain which pours in through the roof too. Life here resembles the Poseidon adventure. Mum isn't well and has a burning sore throat which got steadily worse as the night went on. Dad and I took up the lounge carpet and fit it upstairs in the small bedroom. My heart and soul wasn't in it. They left at 12:30.

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Monday October 4, 1982

 Wet beginning, warm middle, and sunny end. My bus was full of tarts, and has been so for over a week. Five of them on the back seat were talking very loudly about mens bottoms, and having sex in public conveniences. Most disturbing. Young, but with coughs like old women, with dyed hair. What has become of the English rose?

Sat with The Times. Another KG has died. The premier English baronet Sir Edmund Bacon. That is three vacancies now. 

Phoned David Middleton at 10. He came at 6 and to our relief he immediately said he would replace the cracked sink. I have been blaming myself.

The Queen has sailed off to some South Pacific islands, the last bits of the Commonwealth yet to be visited by Her Majesty. She's doing the closing of the Commonwealth Games in Brisbane first. No monarch in the history of the world has travelled as extensively as the present Queen.

Prince Claus, husband of the Queen of Holland, has lost his marbles, and has been locked in an asylum. He's due here next month for a State visit, or perhaps a Strait visit [i.e. strait jackets, etc] Aren't I a wit?

Chicken. Ally ironing. Bed after 11. We are staying up too late. Phoned Mummy and sugegsted a visit to Stockport on Oct 12.

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Sunday October 3, 1982

 17th Sunday after Trinity     Full Moon

Opened my eyes expecting to feel ill, but didn't. Painted in the kitchen all day. Lynn, David and Frances called in for coffee on the way to Richard and Mandy's. Ally was annoyed because they are always on their way somewhere when they visit us. _________. Frances, in a knitted suit looked very 'Bakery', yet sweet. She has big teeth. Laid cushion floor covering in the kitchen. Chicken at 8:30. Hung pictures. Watched Olivier's 'Three Sisters' by Chekhov, and felt stupid because I couldn't understand it. Bed after 12.

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Saturday October 2, 1982

Definitely feel 'off it'. Hot, sweaty, and getting a cold as sure as God makes little apples. Struggled in to town with sweet Ally. The curtains were not ready. Bought wallpaper and my last tin of apple white matt. Home at 2 and papered the kitchen until 6. Ally screamed in horror. The sink, not eight weeks old, has cracked. I could commit murder. Seven thousand pounds for a knackered old kitchen sink. Depression. Fish pie. Stayed up late. Ally baked cakes and buns. Watched Olivier in 'Rebecca'. Bed. Unwell.

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Friday October 1, 1982

 Cold, even frosty. Margo went off at 4 on a 2-week holiday with a mystery friend. Sarah and Carol were almost purple with inquisitiveness. That is if in fact inquisitiveness does make one purple. Mauve perhaps. 

Corn on the cob and a luscious lasagne. [Ah, but first we walked to Comet, in our matching plum coloured jackets, to look at freezers, without actually buying one]. Felt tired. Watched TV. Bruce Forsyth either dyes his hair or wears a hideous wig. 

Have I told you about Andrew? _________________.

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