Gosforth: AI-generated game of flick chess
Five-Year Diary: Up at the usual time, though it being the 29th of February made the whole thing feel like a bonus day, as if the day had crept in where it didn’t quite belong. The spring term rattles on regardless.
I’m still reading 2001: A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke. It’s clever, though I can’t say I can make sense all of it. The bits in space are smashing. The rest feels as if one ought to understand it more than one actually does.
Band Practice
Brass band practice after breakfast. JC has joined the 11, which makes him look insufferably pleased with himself. Grenville took the session. He’s a very good teacher, brisk but not beastly, and he knows precisely when one is making a bish. IG didn’t get a go at conducting, which was rather hard lines.
Church
AHB gave the sermon. Dull, I’m afraid. One of those affairs where you find yourself reading the Psalms and wondering how much longer there possibly can be left. There was some business about silver platters being dedicated, which seemed to excite no one. We were supposed to be pleased.
Sunday Exeat
Mum collected us after and drove us back to Gosforth. We spoke about careers in the car. She asked what I might like to do, and I said something non-committal, as I hadn’t the foggiest – the RAf or acting, or combine them both flying planes in films? It’s odd how adults assume one has a grand design.
Home by 1.15.
Lunch was very good. Proper Sunday lunch. Roast chicken and three veggies. After that, I watched television for a bit, eating Angel Delight though nothing much was on.
Mum said she’d sent Dad a Valentine card and typed it on my typewriter, which I felt was a slightly underhanded use of my equipment. They’ve been separated eight years and divorced for six.
Girlfriend
Later, I cycled into Gosforth to see my girlfriend: no Mackintosh, only two jerseys, which proved insufficient.
They’re digging up the road for the new Metro, which makes the whole place look like a battlefield.
We went for a walk on the Town Moor in the rain.
Afterwards we played flick chess back at hers, which I nearly won, and listened to a few records: ABBA, Rod Stewart and David Soul – her favourites. It’s rather pleasant just sitting about listening to music when one ought to be doing something more industrious.
Home. Pick out some tea, tuck and tapes for my tuck box.
The drive back to Sedbergh via Scotch Corner, the A66 and Brough.
Once back in House, the usual Sunday evening feeling, half comfort and half gloom at the thought of Monday.
Changed my sheets, which were overdue.
JM’s hair continues to resemble an overgrown helmet. I don’t know how he sees out from under it.
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