Saturday January 15, 1983

 Our alarm let rip at 7 and we lay in the darkened bedroom wondering whether we might be raving mad. We had a hurried boiled egg and went out at 8:15 for the bus to Leeds. We got to the city reference library for 9:15 and immediately tackled the 1881 census. I looked at Pudsey and Ally concentrated on Bramley in an attempt to find the elusive John Rhodes. My great-great grandmother Mrs Betty Wilson was still alive aged 66 in 1881. She was living in Chapeltown, Pudsey, with three of her unmarried children, and a granddaughter, Harriet E. Robinson, aged 17. My great-grandfather John Wilson was a 28 year-old labourer, living in Rider's Row, Chapeltown, with his wife Rella, 25, and two children, William 5, and Harriet, 10 months. Where was Mary, born in 1878? She must have been staying elswehere on the night of April 8, 1881. I found a couple of Fawberts but no direct ancestors. On the Bramley register Ally found John Henry Rhodes, 14, son of Samuel Rhodes, 46, a farmer, of Atkinson's Buildings, Bramley, and Eliza Ann his wife, 41, born in Horsforth. Could John Henry be my great-grandfather? It's the middle name Henry that has thrown us off the scent. She came across numerous Appleyards, all well-to-do brothers of my great-great-grandmother Mary Ann Appleyard (Mrs Ross). We finished for about 1:30 and made our way to the pub next door, Stumps, which is run by the Hartleys who employed Ally three years ago at what was the Belfry. We had one drink. Hideous. We went to Austick's and to Greenhead's to look at the books. Bought a YP. Lady Galway's obit is in. Not that they'll pay me. Dear me, no. Bought a Minton Haddon Hall tea plate bringing our collection to six. Home for 3:30.

I trussed the chicken and prepared dinner whilst Ally giggled at an Alastair Sim film on the BBC. Later she fell asleep on a large cushion. Alastair Sim again in 'The Belles of St Trinians'. Very amsuing.

We ate at 6:30. Ally's nap had done her no good, and she was too tired to eat. Sat reading afterwards. The Duke of Windsor was, if Stephen Birmingham is to be believed, an absolute horror. Ally on with Shirley Conran's 'Lace'.

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Friday January 14, 1983

 New Moon

Everyone insists it is going to snow, but nothing happened. Mrs Slocombe came into the office looking like a trapper from the hills of north America. She was later sat sorting through a batch of photographs and asked: "Is George Bernard Shaw alive or dead?" I giggled nervously but was inwardly terrified. How can a 30 year-old woman with 12 years experience of working in a busy newspaper office not know that GBS died aged 90 in 1950?

Ally phoned and we talked of our future. We are definitely taking on a restaurant or pub one day. The drudgery of office life has hit me like a sledgehammer in recent months. Mum phoned. Sue and Pete have had their offer on a house on Fieldhead Rd accepted. Lynn went to Otley yesterday and she and Katie were photographed by Edward 'Ted' Winpenny. It seems that Katie was the first baby to have been born in Otley in 1983, and a local shop is presenting Lynn with a pram for achieving this amazing fete.

Lucia Viscountess Galway, of Serlby Hall, Bawtry, has died aged 92. She served as a Maid of Honour to Queen Alexandra from 1919 to 1922. I passed this amazing piece of information to Derek Foster on the YP newsdesk, and suppose that an obit will appear tomorrow.

Spoke to Michael Brown. He's thinking of spending a summer holiday in Ostend. Poor soul. We laughed at a picture on the cover of the Church of England Times of the Archbishop of Canterbury with the Russian Orthodox Archbishop of Kiev. We are told in the caption that the Russian is on the left and that Canterbury is on the right. Do the people who regularly take the C of E Times need to be told?

Sandwiches with Ally. The planned chicken hadn't defrosted, and Ally thinks it smells foisty. Surely, it's Friday? Sat with our books and no sound but the ticking of the clock and me making slurping noises with my whisky. Pub management? We are buying a pub now. Why not? 

Watched the nine o'clock news. The Prince and Princess of Wales, skiing in Austria, are being pestered to death by the British reporters, and the palace has asked for restraint. The princess is taking the intrusion very bady and is going around heavily camouflaged.

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Thursday January 13, 1983

 Up at 7. Trying to be helpful I fried three sausages which we bought on Saturday last. Ally came down and moaned about the burning fat and ghastly smell and as I poked at the sausages she related to me the tale of the Clerkenwell Sausage Poisoning epidemic of 1867. By the time they were laying brown and greasy upon our plates we had both lost our appetites. I just pushed mine around with a fork. 

Off to Leeds on my faithful No. 72 and sat near to some 12 year-old chaps smoking like chimneys. They were with a friend, aged about twelve and a half, who was furiously sucking on Polo mints because, he explained, they helped him take his mind off the cigs. What a sorry state of affairs. They are sniffing glue before they can walk these days. And what about the under 5 alcoholics?

At home we sat in the bath together and then went to bed _______________. At 8 we had lasagne preceded by pâté and toast. Frank phoned. I didn't recognise his voice. I'm a biff. He is coming up on business on Jan 28 and will take us back to Winchester that night.

We watched Top of the Pops, and went back to bed at about 10. I sat reading Stephen Birmingham's book about the Duchess of Windsor. The man says that Queen Mary's first language was German. This is not so. Queen Mary was born at Kensington Palace the daughter of an English princess and was as English as I am. Ally has started 'Lace' by Shirley Conran. Lights out before 11. 

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Wednesday January 12, 1983

 Up at 7. Sluggish. My face still aches. I had the distinct feeling yesterday as I lay in the dentist chair that his assistant was laughing behind my back. They found it amusing that all my teeth are filled, each and every one of them. Dad said last night that I really should have wonderful teeth because I've been a regular in the chair since the age of three. No son of mine will be allowed to set foot in a dental surgery until he is at least 36.

We had toast and left a note for Mum and Dad. We crept out at 8 to our daily toils. Went to Greenhead's at lunch to look at the books. I also paid £5.20 for the advert announcing Katie's arrival.

Mum and Dad signed for Waltergarth in Otley today. They could be homeless for three weeks yet. Sue and Pete have put there house up for sale and have made an offer for a semi on Fieldhead Road (£26,000).  It's close to Jim and Margaret's. We are, to be sure, a family on the move.

At home Ally has sandwiches ready. A book 'Wallis Warfield Windsor' by Stephen Birmingham has arrived from our book club. Ten years ago I was furiously pro-Windsor. It was my opinion that King Edward VIII had the right to make anyone he wished his wife and subsequently Queen of the United Kingdom. I now realise that Mrs Simpson would never have made the grade. However, I do question the right of the authorities to withhold the style and title of HRH from the Duchess and will always regard her treatment by the Royal Family as shabby and shameful. The old girl cannot have long to go.

Ally took to her bath after a marathon ironing session. She spoke to Bessie yesterday. Andrew came off his motorcycle and banged his head. A policeman brought the news to the door and gave her a nasty turn. He really should get rid of the bloody thing.

I am considering liquid refreshment. I deserve a good stiff one.

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Tuesday January 11, 1983

 Our alarm clock pinged at 6:30 but we didn't stir until 7. I climbed down to visit Ally in the bottom bunk. Downstairs on tip toes to avoid waking Mum & Dad. Brewed tea and made toast. 

The specification for our grant for the roof arrived on Friday. It looks complex. I keep taking it out of the envelope and looking at it. Mum is going to give us a hand with it. We'll contact Steve O'Connor for an estimate.

The EP carried my tip on the Dundas engagement. I phoned my contact at Debrett's for the date of birth of Alexander Lascelles, Lord Harewood's heir of line. He told me. 

To Rawdon and my dentist at 5. I've been climbing those stairs there for 16 years. Tortuous. The moustachioed little dental person gave me an X-ray and three fillings and put me through an hour of misery. I was laid back in the chair reciting the order of succession to the throne to myself to take my mind off the goings on in my mouth. I never seem to get past Princess Margarita of Rumania. I left at 6:15 minus £13.

Didn't get home until 7:30. Ally looking dishy in one of my old T-shirts and Mum and Dad, cutlery in hand, like starving Third World people. I have no appetite because of my face ache. A pie, peas, and chips, followed by two large, stiff whiskies. A documentary about Alastair Sim helped to cheer me.

Mum and Dad say they will move on tomorrow. They sign for Waltergarth at 11am.

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Monday January 10, 1983

 Mum and Dad hear from their solicitor that Horton-in-Ribblesdale is going to have road improvements and that a major development is going to take place within 200 yards of Waltergarth over the next 15 years. This is a grievous blow. Mum thinks the current owner of the house knows all about it, and has kept quiet. Well, he would, wouldn't he? Dad rang a county councillor at the local pub there who assured him that nothing serious is going to take place, but they'll have to wait for official confirmation from Northallerton which could take six weeks. You know what bureaucracy is like. 

A frantic day at the YP. Mondays are obscene. Lord Bruce Dundas, youngest son of the Marquess of Zetland, has announced his engagement to Sophie Lascelles, 24, a fourth cousin of Lord Harewood. Her mother is a Baring, and so she's also closely related to the divine Diana. I passed it on to the EP newsdesk, but they didn't do anything about it today. They can be very slow at times. I'm going to keep a record of my tips to Geoff (Hemingway). 

Home at 5:40. Ally and Dad were making a fish pie. We all sat watching tv and then it was back to the bunks. Mum and Dad will have to rename Waltergarth 'The Tarmacs', or something else appropriate to the construction industry.

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Sunday January 9, 1983

 1st Sunday after Epiphany

Out of bed at 10:30 to sausages and eggs and beans and things. We haven't had a proper 'full English' since we were both struck down with food poisoning last summer.  A day of furious industry.

I went outside and cleaned all the windows and swept up the dead leaves on the path. Ally did the house from top to bottom. I told her she gets more like Mrs Ford every day. __________.

I splashed around in a luke-warm bath, and afterwards I set about a geranium plant and hacked it to pieces. Is this intricate description of my mundane every day a toil for you? I know I would dearly love to be able to read of the daily activities of my great-grandfather. All I know about any of my 'greats' is their names, and a few dates of birth and death. It is sad that whole lives have disappeared, unrecorded for posterity, with no details of their Victorian existence. I don't want to go the same way. 

Mum phoned from Skipton to say they are on the way over. They stayed in Settle this weekend and spent today in Horton-in-Ribblesdale inspecting their new home, Waltergarth. They arrived at 5 and we dined at 6. It is strange having lodgers. Our house is so small. We gave them our bedroom and slept in the bunks, both in the bottom one, until about 4am when I climed up to the top. Mum and Dad are really ready to move now and want to be in Horton by next week.

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Saturday January 8, 1983

 Ally was tired and subsequently ratty throughout the day. As I've said before she'd make a very good psychopathic world leader.

We lay in bed until well after 11 and went down to 'breakfast' scantily clad. We ate crumpets in semi-darkness and discussed our plan of action for the day. Provisions are low and so we got a bus to the market and came back at 2:30 heavily laden. 

I went outside and planted the Christmas tree now looking so drab after its Yuletide trimming of glitter and lights. Inside we played hunt the Christmas decorations box which was nowhere to be found. We had lasagne and a couple of glasses of red wine.

I wrote to Edna and Nellie. They wrote to us before Christmas and I do want to keep in touch. We are condsidering going to look at the 1881 census next Saturday. 

John phoned this evening to see if we fancied going over for a few drinks. Janette arrived at 6 o'clock this morning. She got a lift from a sister who was travelling south and is staying until Wednesday or Thursday. Obviously, we were not in a fit state to go anywhere. ___________.

Saw on the news that the Prime Minister has arrived in the Falklands on a surprise visit. I sat day dreaming about the flags fluttering in Port Stanley. We tuned in to a dreadful American soap called 'Dynasty'. Ally is like Papa in the way that they sit and pull tv programmes to pieces. To bed at 11:45 after bathing in Ally's pink bath salts.

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Friday January 7, 1983

 Frank Metcalfe's snow didn't come, but it's cold and very wet. Laid beneath my Oasis quilt until almost 7:30. Ally skipping around like a young lamb. (All lambs are young - Ed.)

Ally's plea for an electric typewriter must have had some effect because today they removed the ancient machine from her desk and made off with it. By 'they' I mean the eight old men in blue overalls who are paid by the NHS to carry one typewriter between them. 

YP chaotic. Sarah still off tending to her ailing mother. Mum phoned. She and Dad are going off for the weekend and will come to Bradford - if it's OK with us - on Sunday to stay for a couple of days.Susan and Peter have had them for a month, and it's about time we had a bash. It will make a pleasant change. Ally says, laughing, that I will now have someone with whom to stay up late at night with watching TV until closedown.

Tonight we watched ten minutes of Channel 4 and then switched off. We didn't fancy the Spanish Civil War. Speaking of Spain, King Juan Carlos has broken his pelvis while skiing.

Mrs Thatcher has reshuffled the government. John Nott has resigned and will receive a knighthood, and so does Neil Marten. Michael Heseltine has gone to defence. I think Michael Heseltine will go far. Lord Bellwin, a Leeds lad, has been promoted to minister for Local Government. When will the election come? Some say May/June, but I think the old girl might hang on until the autumn.

Ally still battling through 'Penmarric'. She says it's a diabolical book, and yet she's buried beneath it at every opportunity. 

I sent a 'happy New Year' letter to Edna and Nellie. Its difficult writing to someone you've never met. Sixty seven year-old spinsters too - not likely to appreciate jokes about the Pope and Bo Derek.

Lord Halifax is asking for a personal secretary and Ally wants to apply. The applicants for the job have to be over 35 and live at Garrowby. Camilla Halifax is the pretty heiress daughter of Colonel Younger of the brewing dynasty.

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Thursday January 6, 1983

 Epiphany

Could quite easily have reclined in bed this morning. Snatched a bit of breakfast. Ally bouncing around full of glee. She is going in to the office to ask Derek for an electric typewriter, just to be awkward.

To the YP: Busy day doing stuff for the diary. Viscount Melgund is engaged and so is Lady Julia Percy, the Duke of Northumberland's daughter, and Henry Tennant, son of Colin Tennant, has married on Mustique. Surprisingly, Princess Margaret wasn't at the nuptials. It was Charles Tennant who caused a stink when he stole photos from his mother's album and sold them to the Daily Mirror. Oh dear, yes.

Went out at 12:30 to buy some shoes in the sales but couldn't find a decent pair. I despise the 'January sales' and do not usually associate myself with them. I am wearing the shoes I married in, and my toes are almost through at the end. I feel damp and shabby. Pass me a bottle of meths and I'll really look the part.

Drank a mug of chicken and mushroom soup on my bench in Park Square and noticed that the daffodils are pushing up. It was a warm day but Frank Metcalfe says we are due for some snow. Frank is something of an expert of weather patterns. 

Didn't speak to Ally. Was too busy. I'm working through the honours and have all the MBEs to look at. I'll be still at it in July. Daley Thompson got one. That man is big headed enough already.

Mum phoned to say she has bought us a Minton dinner plate in the sales for £7. They are thinking of going off somewhere for the weekend. They are all piled up in the cramped space of West End Terrace. She is a little upset that Lynn and Dave haven't invited them to stay at Thorpe Lane. You know just how temperamental Mum is. However, it would have been nice of them to invite the refugees over for the odd night. I know they have a new baby and all that.

At home I had fish and chips, but Ally just had a bit of toast. Poor Ally has put on a stone in weight over Christmas and is now eight and a half stone. 'Top of the Pops' then 'Superman' which I saw at the cinema when first out. The (Christmas) tree lights are still burning. Is the tree supposed to be down tonight? Will it bring bad luck if it remains up? I suppose I'd better go dismantle the thing.

Ally demanded a gin and tonic and kept peeping at me over the newspaper, passing comments on the days news. The dog which fell off the pier and Blackpool resulting in the death of several policemen is a Jack Russell. How hideous. 

We retired to bed at about 10:30. Both washed out.

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Wednesday January 5, 1983

 Oh yes, I forgot that in the chaos on Sunday night Uncle John E. Rhodes phoned  to wish a happy birth day to Mum and Dad whilst they were at Sue's. He thanked us for the present.

On the subject of John Rhodeses, all is now well with my brother, John P. Rhodes, ___________.

YP: Busy day. Margo says I'm a swot. Policemen have drowned at Blackpool whilst trying to save a dog from the sea off the pier. I am eagerly  awaiting the PM's re-shuffle. Michae Heseltine is expected to get Defence.

The Queen has been giving riding lessons to the Princess of Wales at Sandringham. The poor girl had a nasty experience on horseback years ago and has hated equine beasts ever since. This won't do.

Phoned Lynn at 2. She was let out of hospital at 10:30 and loving being home. Frances was stunned to see her mother breast feeding Katie, and ran away at the sight of a dirty nappy.

Went to see Jacq at lunchtime. She saw the birth announcement in yesterday's YP. 'Where did they get Davina from?' she exclaimed, pulling a face. I like Davina. Surely, it's the feminine of David? People can be very dull and conservative when it comes to names. Ally and I laugh. They will have a blue fit when we come to name ours.

Fish fingers tonight too, drizzled in cheese sauce. Played with my typewriter. Ally still reading 'Penmarric'. I poured another late gin and tonic. Two years ago we decided to get married. Bliss.

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