Friday December 24, 1982

 The eve of Christmas. To the YP for the age-old tradition of present swapping and merriment. We always sit behind the filing cabinets being hideously cheerful with each other. Kathleen especially is like Mother Teresa of Calcutta, and other wrinkled saintly persons. I gave Mrs Slocombe the soaps that she had given to Sarah. It all went off splendidly. I'm hoping for an Oscar. The Asti Spumante saw us through to 12:30 when we drifted away.

Ally came to collect me in the little yellow Lada and we left immediately for Winchester. I clutched a bottle of Dry Martini all the way, sipping leisurely. Ally was bright as a bobbin (or is it a new pin?), and nearing the journey's end she serenaded me with carols. At Chillandham Cross for 6:30. Saw Matthew for the first time. He is such a tiny person. Everyone says he looks like Frank, but all babies look like Frank. Little, bald and sleepy.

Ally was shagged out and didn't want to go out which upset Graham. We sat with Bessie and Frank and retired at 12.

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Thursday December 23, 1982

 Festive. Cold. Went to Denton's at lunch and wrote a cheque for £36. for the amethyst and gold ring I've had my eye on for Ally for weeks. It was a relief to see it was still on the shelf. Bought Asti Spumante for the office fuddle tomorrow, if that's what it is. I often think it's more like a funeral.

Met Ally at Rackham's at 6:30 and we spent two hours walking around the shops. They stayed open until 9 tonight for the maniacal, hysterical shoppers. Bought napkins for Bessie and a dressing gown for Frank, &c. Home. Pork pies by the fire. Mario Lanza warbling in the background. Ally gave me a typewriter! I never guessed. She loves the amethyst ring. A perfect fit. Duran Duran's LP. Exhausted. 

Noel! Our second married one.

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Wednesday December 22, 1982

 Shortest Day

I'm not feeling 100 per cent. 

Hasn't 1982 been a momentous year? Prince William, Koo Stark, the Falklands War, Princess Grace of Monaco, the loss of Arthur Askey, tumbling inflation, 76,000,000 unemployed. I had no dental treatment all year.

To Guiseley at 7:30 with a sack of presents. Mum and Dad have a new car, a Renault 5, which is four years old, and formerly the motor of Mr Webster, a YP printer. John made a flying visit and beat a retreat, after looking at his presents, to see Chris and Pete. Carol J saw John last night in the White Hart at Pool with an unidentified lady, clearly the mental nurse Janet. (She's a nurse who looks after mental patients at High Royds Hospital, not mental herself of course). He is a lad, my brother.

Swapped gifts with the Nasons and devoured pies and sandwiches. We kissed goodbye until after the festivities. On to Thorpefields where Lynn and Dave were listening to Christmas carols around the plastic tree. I would never have thought it of them. The tree that is. Swapped gifts here too and left at 12. Shattered. Despite all the criticism I think that the Pantry (as I call the Lada) goes very well.

Tuesday December 21, 1982

 Thrilling luncheon with Sarah, Margo and Carol J at Da Mario's (as usual). Devoured the usual panzerotti and gallon of wine. The dark, Latin waiter took a fancy to Margo and she got extra cream on her Black Forest gateau as a result. It was a sombre affair quite in keeping with tradition. I only hope I'll be gone from the library by this time next year, though I cannot see how.

I am going to have to bring all my very great acting powers to the fore on Friday at the annual exchange of Christmas gifts twixt the library staff. I am giving Mrs Slocombe the Bronnley soaps which she herself gave to Sarah on Sarah's birthday only a month ago. We believe that Marilyn Wheeler gave the soaps to Mrs Slocombe, who then passed them on to Sarah, who then gave them to me to give back to Mrs S! So wonderfully wicked and fun.

The Lada estate is here. We went over to Pudsey at 8 with our cards. Jill and Tim came and Di and Paul brought a video recorder and we watched our wedding tape. Home at 12 after two glasses of cucumber wine.

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Monday December 20, 1982

 Yes folks, it's Christmas time and once again Michael Rhodes is going down with pneumonia. It's the same every year. Santa brings presents for everyone else but me. Oh no, not me. I get the snots.

We are laying our hands on a motor car as from tomorrow for the two weeks until the end of the festivities. A Lada which is costing us £103. J. Paul Getty all over again. It will please Precious, who secretly despises being car-less, and we can play at Santa Claus without the use of public transport.

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Sunday December 19, 1982

 4th Sunday in Advent

A day at John's flat. Struggling with cold. Joined by Mum and Dad.  Drinking, and eating pork pies until 6. Mum doesn't know that Janette is coming down for Christmas and for an indefinite period afterwards. This news may not be well received. I will be glad to be out of it in Winchester. John drove us home at 7:30 and then went off to play squash with Chris Ratcliffe at Harehills. Ate at 10. Bed afterwards.

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Saturday December 18, 1982

 I was awake at 8:30 listening to Dad pottering around. We emerged for breakfast. We regret last night's excesses, but I didn't feel too bad. Brewed coffee (we have a new coffee-maker from Bessie). I cannot write. Everything is so bitty.

Over to Guiseley at 10. To Thorpefields, Lynn and Dave's new home. A good, solid family-sized house which they'll be able to fill with babies. Spent the whole day travelling between Burley and Guiseley in a large van, loading and unloading. Ghastly. 

To Sue's afterwards, and then out at 8 to the Station (Hotel). Felt shattered. We consisted of: Ally, I, Dave L, John, Jill, Tim, Sue, Pete, Lynn, Dave B, & Chris and Peter came on in at 10:30. Mr & Mrs Brotherwood too. Tony in a trilby. To the flat afterwards. Not a large turn out, but fun. _______ came with her tiny, yet perfectly formed Duran Duran friend and thery proceeded to copulate on the settee. It was great viewing. Spent the evening avoiding toad-like people. John's neighbour, a nurse from the asylum, by the name of Janet, arrived and grabbed hold of John and held his attention all night. A very forward young lady. 

Dave L, Tim and I went across the road to a flat above the fish and chip shop to investigate reports of another lively party taking place, but found nothing but a very old woman tucked up in bed. Felt like Michael Fagan, the intruder who entered the Queen's bedroom.

Back at John's: Sue was in good spirits, and brought the house down. (Peter) Lazenby arrived late and stood cuddling Ally asking me to 'take care of her'. Jill informs us that my cousin's wife, Jennifer Myers, is expecting her third child next summer. Janet took John off to her flat to inspect her Beatles LPs, and the party drifted away into the ice and snow. Ally and I found a bed.

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Friday December 17, 1982

 Go to the market. Very festive. Buy wrapping paper and some cards. Horribly wet day, utterly miserable.

Left the YP at 4 and stood for 45 minutes waiting for a bus, again. By the time I arrived home I was depressed. Very unfestive. Ally looking pale. She says she feels odd ___________.

Mum and Dad came at 7:30 from John's and we cheered up considerably over dinner. Scampi, profiteroles, &c. Dad messed around with the clock and managed to get it going again. Drink flowed. Mum drank liqueurs like water. Cointreau and Tia Maria. After midnight we gave them their Christmas presents and they were delighted. Mum sat fondling her Lanzarote tablecloth, and beaming. The scene reminiscent of Christmas day. Torn wrapping paper and broken Brazil nut shells everywhere. We finally retired to bed at 4am.

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Thursday December 16, 1982

 Hail, the lot. The gales have calmed down but snow is now on the way. By evening it did come, and the skies were white and threatening.. It looks as if my green wellies are going to be put to use after all.

We have a Christmas card from the anonymous man at number 12, who signs himself 'Charles Eyden'. A grand sounding name, I think.  Poor man, he sees no one.

YP: No Kathleen or Sarah today. News: Michael Heseltine is increasing our rates next year. Ian MacDonald, the MOD official and spokesman, has been slated for his angling of the Falklands thing. I thought he was brilliant. He made our so-called broadcasters on TV news today look like pantomime dames. The BBC news has now stooped to employing an Irishman as political editor. I strain to understand what is going on, and occasionally grasp the word 'Thatcher' and the phrase 'back bench rebels'. Nine new life peers were announced today. Welsh solicitors, &c. The Earl of Crawford's daughter is engaged to the son of the librarian at Windsor - one for the diary.

Mother phoned this morning whilst on 'Christopher watch'. Dad was out with Susie shopping. They had a cheque yesterday for £31,000 for the sale of Pine Tops. It was hurriedly placed in the bank. They dined afterwards at the Damn Yankee.

Home to Ally. We had sandwiches. Bake afterwards. I made a batch of profiteroles and Ally some mince pies. The smell of food is driving me insane. Watched sweaty 'Tenko' again. It's a real fun-packed show, that.

Sir Robin Day, &c.

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Wednesday December 15, 1982

 New Moon

90 MPH gale force winds throughout Yorkshire - a dreadful day. Ally had a second day off to put the finishing touches to her Christmas preparations. The house is looking excellent. Last week it resembled an Afghanistan bomb site. Poached eggs. 

YP: Sarah off. Worked through lunch listening to the wind howling outside. Mrs Slocombe coughing over her typewriter like at inmate of St Gemma's Hospice. Margo is rapidly becoming the office comedian. 'What is the number one record in Heaven?' she asked. My curiosity aroused. 'Wide Eyed and Legless', she answers, ' a duet by Marty Feldman and Arthur Askey'.

Home at 6. Ally looking like a rugby player in a striped shirt. We had dumplings in mince and a rice pudding. We have had some Christmas cards from my great-aunt Anne (Kirk) and Uncle Tom in Barrowford.

Ally sat watching 'Dallas'. I'm astonished that she finds it entertaining. Dave L phoned  and was abrupt. He wanted to come over last Thursday but we were out dining with the Wattses. He asked whether John's party is still on. I told him yes. He also enquired about ours at New Year. Will he bring his punk pals? We have a new carpet. To bed at 9:30.

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Tuesday December 14, 1982

 Somewhat wintry. The usual sort of day. Worked through lunch and left at 4:30, but didn't get on a bloody bus until 5. Met Ally in the interchange and we got an 88 (bus) to Pudsey. To the home of Auntie Mabel, matriarch of the Wilson family. We dined on tuna salad, roast chicken, apple pie and cream. Because we are ruled by the buses our stay was short, and we swapped Christmas cards and looked at the photos of Lanzarote. The gas fire, belting out heat like a furnace, reminiscent of one of those steelworks before they all closed down.

We had a good dig at some of our relations, including her 'posh' niece A____ W. Auntie Mabel sat reading the Court Circular - out loud. We left at 9:15. Home at 10. 

Saw Peter Firth in 'The Flipside of Dominick Hide' - the sequal. Brilliant. Then to bed. A very cold night.

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