Fifty years ago: Saturday, 17th April 1976
(Gosforth. Age 14)
Five-Year Diary: I slept in and drifted into the day without much urgency.
I did some sculpture for an hour or so—more fiddling than anything serious—then had breakfast in front of an art programme, half watching, half not. I once made a flamingo out of chicken wire and papier-mâché. Today I used balsa wood. Once upon a time, it would have been an Airfix model.
After that, I went outside and did some gardening: cuttings, marrows in the vegetable plot, and even transplanting some holly. It felt practical, useful, like I was doing something real with my hands.
I rang Julie-Anne and arranged to go into town.
There was some complication about going to Wallington Hall—I was made to go, or at least strongly pushed into it. That meant washing my hair, having lunch, and changing. It all felt slightly imposed, as though the day was being redirected.
There was a talk by Mrs Meller, which I endured rather than listened to. The car had broken springs, so plans shifted again, and I ended up walking with Julie-Anne instead. Mud everywhere, feet soaked through, but better than sitting still.
We had tea, and then went back.
The evening felt stupid—flat, slightly pointless. Nothing quite landed. Just drifting through it.
More Television. The stopgap for the unmotivated.
I let the hamster out.
Top of the Pops:
Sailor: “Girls, Girls, Girls” – I like girls. The song summed it up. But what did I know at 14?
Brotherhood of Man: “Save Your Kisses for Me” – I loathed it so much I flicked over to BBC2 for 3 minutes.
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