Wednesday, December 28, 1983
Tree
The weather has been mild again, and this morning it was quite sunny, Ainsley Hill a blaze of copper tints and shades of brown caught by the sun against a sky the colour of gun metal.
Rob and Carol stayed the night and left at dinnertime. I met Lee in Farnshaw market place at eleven and, as we had a few minutes before the bus came, we wandered on to the second-hand electrical shop opposite Top Shop to look for ciné equipment and came away with a Chinon Concord Standard 8 Reflex ciné camera with zoom and wide angle lens for £9. This will go towards the Grey Triangle venture next year. It really seems quite a bargain. We bought batteries for it and the motor works perfectly.
We travelled into Whincliffe on the bus and walked the half mile into Cartbeck to the army surplus shop. Lee bought himself a pair of black German para-boots identical to mine and a pair of baggy fatigues. I bought a pair of trousers too. I kept thinking about the unfortunate uniformity of Lee and I’s taste in clothing just lately. What with the boots, the fatigues and the greatcoats, we look virtually identical.
I hurried back for half-three and the planned visit to Janet’s. I wasn’t looking forward to it but it turned out better than I’d expected. All the Peale clan were present: Nanna P., Kenneth, Shirley, Nicola, Ian, Janet and her husband Trev, Michael and newly born Geoffrey, plus Mum, Dad and Andrew and I. Janet’s baby was born two months premature and only now has he reached an adequate weight.
I held him awkwardly for a little while. He was very light and quite tiny, a small pinched face and perfectly formed hands, palms no bigger than my thumbnail. He slept most of the evening as he was passed around, only rousing himself to squall when he was hungry. Michael is 2½ now and rushed to-and-fro incessantly, a broad grin on his face, his sticking out ears making his face look more triangular than ever. He doesn’t say much apart from “Yes,” “No” and a few other monosyllabic words. He’s a likeable little kid.
I kept quiet and sat in the corner and ate the food and drank the booze provided. Janet’s husband kept referring to me as “the young ‘un” and asked Dad if it was OK for me to have Theakston’s as it was strong: if he only knew.
I don’t have a lot in common with the Peale side of the family and we’re really quite isolated on our little branch of the tree–I think Andrew is Mum and Dad’s strongest hope for grandchildren (I shall certainly never have any). I think this question of heirs to perpetuate this branch of the family is one that bothers Dad on the quiet. He’d enjoy being a grandfather.
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