2015 — 11 July: Saturday
One of the earlier starts1 as we're off in pursuit of that mythical beast: the interesting aircraft. In Yeovilton. I remain unconvinced, but someone has to keep the ol' chap happy.
I even...
... let him feed me a dram of Scotch last night. Must be mad. I also skimmed through his CHS history book finding no mention whatsoever of any of the names from my own (truncated) time there. I did learn, however, that the "fast track" streaming of "bright" pupils — starting by skipping a year of Junior School — had only been agreed (over the protests of some of the teaching staff) in 1959 and I started there under precisely that scheme in 1960. Here's part of the original letter that kick-started my accelerated early "education":
This was just after I'd taken the entrance exam2 one Saturday. Since I was also the youngest in my "J2" class, I may well even have been the only such pupil that year. Golly. It all seems a very long time ago now. I wonder why that is? Slowly encroaching upon the lower slopes of the foothills of the Mountain of Old Age may just have something to do with it. Perhaps.
:-) TTFN
Happily for me...
... the Yeovilton air display proved to be insufficiently sunny and exciting to hold even Big Bro in thrall/enthralled for more than a few hours of aviation tedium. By the time he realised this I had already returned to the car to escape the pollen, the noise, the icky crowds, the witless commentary... to read my book, and possibly catch some zzzs. He joined me an hour later and we thus made our escape well ahead of the final display — not to mention the likely chaos of exiting a crowded field full of cars in a disorderly fashion. What could I do but assuage his disappointment by treating him to a chocolate cone at Carlo's on the way home by way of reward for his considerate behaviour (truncating my torture, that is)?
One of today's...
... noisy little heavier-than-air devices, as captured by Big Bro's (old) Canon D20. I was amused to note he keeps the longer lens on his newer D60 as that way he thinks the sensors stay cleaner:
I did, once, build an Airfix model of this particular variant; though it wore different livery... possibly even BEA colours of the type that did hops from Lands End to the Isles of Scilly. (That info courtesy of Big Bro's equally retentive, but differently-oriented, memory.)
Tomorrow's little escapade?
Nip up to London NW2, and whisk Peter and his g/f out for an evening meal. Gives me my first chance to inspect their house, too. And the further interest that's just been accrued on dear Mama's Barclays a/c since it was unfrozen and handed back over to my control (again) should just about pay for a burger and a bottle of beer.