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BOLDON BUKE the magazine of Boldon Secondary School
JULY 1969 Issue Number Five
Price 6d
Committee
Editor Wendy Rouse G4
Clive Bulmer G3
Lyn Millar G3
Kenneth Waugh 3A
Editorial
The committee and myself take great pleasure in presenting the fifth issue of the School Magazine.
Every year the number of contributions increases, and once more we have the difficult, but enjoyable task of sorting out the articles to be included. We thank everybody who submitted an entry, unfortunately lack of space limits the number of contributions published.
We have tried to include articles to suit everybody and we hope you will enjoy reading them as much as we have done.
HEAD MASTER'S NOTES
I am very pleased to realise that the First Phase of building in connection with the school's becoming Comprehensive is nearly at an end.. With any luck, we should be able to call the school our own again very early nest term and forget all the dirt, noise and inconvenience that we have endured over the past year. I think we could have two years of peace before the process commences once again and all the other necessary buildings are erected. In addition to the Second Phase, we hope to have a Community Centre, with a 25 metre Swimming Pool, Squash Courts. a Bowls, Archery and Golf indoor area, besides facilities for adults in the way of lounges, bars and rooms for other leisure pursuits. This will be the first of its kind in County Durham, except for the Billingham Forum, and a Centre of which Boldon can justly feel proud.
In September 1970, all the children from the Junior Schools in Boldon will be coming to this school. The initial facilities will include a new Woodwork Room, two Metalwork Rooms, two new domestic Science Rooms, five Science laboratories, a special Technical Drawing room, extra Art and Music accommodation and also the new House blocks with dining facilities and the new School hall and the Games hall. With the gradual increase in numbers then additional staff will be required so that the best use is made of all the improvements included in the first Phase.
Everything is new, clean and tidy and this brings me to pride in personal appearance. This helps towards pride in work, the opposite being also true. The aim in uniformity in dress is to give the school a proper corporate spirit and to avoid appearance giving away the different home backgrounds. Clothes must be purchased, and to buy a black blazer and blue or grey cardigans, blouses etc., is no more expensive than buying other articles. Please ask your parents to help in this matter so that visitors to the school my be impressed by the general appearance of all pupils.
I am delighted that through the efforts of all concerned the standard of this magazine is being maintained and my special thanks go out to them.. This also includes those whose work has not been published. The credit is there for the effort you have made.Again it is "au revoir" and best wishes to the pupils who are leaving. I do not say "Good bye" as that implies not meeting again, and believe me. The staff and I area interested in your future wellbeing. You cease to be girls and boys and become ladies and gentlemen, with all that those words imply.. Good fortune to you all.
I cannot let this opportunity pass without congratulating Mr Tarbitt on his appointment as Headmaster of Whitburn Secondary School. We were, of course, very sorry to lose him from our staff and thank him for the excellent work he did for the school.. It is with deep regret too that we say farewell to Miss Pierce. No school has ever had a more conscientious mistress and no Headmaster could ever have had such excellent support. Thousands of children have passed through her hands and they have gained nothing but good as a result. Please join with me in wishing her a long and happy retirement and saying an extra big THANK YOU for services rendered.
ESSAY TROPHY.
The Winning entry for the Robert McDarmont Cup
The Kind and Book I like to Read
My taste in reading is to varied that it is difficult to specify one particular type of book which I prefer. If I begin to read something which I find interesting. I become so engrossed in it that my sense of time is lost. Among the many types of books which I read. one is predominant, and that is stories of the supernatural, more commonly called ghost stories.
Although I say I do not believe in ghosts, these spectre-stricken stories infested with haunted buildings and blood-curdling sounds hold a certain fascination for me which I cannot explain. Recantations of the horrific rites of satanic power and appalling apparitions too terrible to relate are, to my mind, the essence of a good, terrifying ghost story.
My favourite reading time for these books is about eleven or twelve o'clock at night, just before I go to sleep. The same sensational excitement is not experienced if these books are read during the day, as it all seems too impossible to believe and there must be some belief or at least some lurking doubt before one enjoys these stories. A complete disbeliever in the supernatural would probably not enjoy this type of reading as I do. A complete disbeliever does not read these stories anyway, because he does not need convincing. An agnostic would probably enjoy these books and would gain full satisfaction of being terrified, which is why these books are read in the first place. Whether I am reading of ghostly apparitions, favourite hauntings of phantoms, or merely peculiar and inexplicable phenomena , my imagination becomes so carried away, that I am half afraid to look up from the book in case some frightful, fiend-like spectre is standing over me with a mocking expression on its face. A hasty retreat under the blankets is a sure cure for this.
Because ghosts are usually associated with evil doings, I am half afraid to admit belief in the expectation that I may be "whipped away" by Clootie (old name for the Devil) himself, so until I am firmly convinced one way or the other, I will continue to read in enjoyable fear and 'laugh it off' afterwards.
Linda Hamilton G5
Her First Frilly Panties.
After school I usually get changed and go over to my cousin's house. It just so happened that when I went over, Alison Muir, from Form 4 Arts, was writing an article for a girls' comic. Alan and I asked if we could read it, she gave it to us, and this is what we read.
When my mother was a child she was used to wearing navy "panties", and she utterly hated them. Her mother found out that she hated the school panties so she went out and bought her some pink frilly "panties". She was so pleased with these that she would not let anyone but herself iron them. One day she had ironed the "panties", she folded them neatly and wrapped them up in a towel for safekeeping, and left them to dry on the table. Just at that moment her father came in and picked up the towel, thinking it had been left there for him to take to the pit showers.
After a hard day's work, the miners retreated up the shaft to the showers, so they could get cleaned uyp and go off home. After the showers they sll come out to get dry! They picked up their towels and gave them a wuick shake to get all the dust off the towels, because of their having been in their dirty rucksacks. You can imagine the look on the miners' faces when her father flicked from his towel a pair of frilly "panties".
George Hunter G.1.
Whitburn' Fishing Boats.
Whitburn is a quiet town,
Upon the English coast,
Where many people gather,
To see the fishing boats.The fishing boats are on the beach,
All dismal and alone,
At three o'clock they begin to move,
Upon the coloured stones.
The water is so nice and calm,
The moonbeams, it reflects,
The boat soon reaches the sea,
And wakes it from its rest.The vessel is now afloat,
With oars all unattended,
Heading towards the open sea,
Still but quite contented.
The lobster pots are dropped,
Beneath the black seaweed,
Where crabs and lobsters lurk
All hidden and unseen.As soon as these are dropped,
We now all head for home,
I for my old lonesome beach,
And you for your warm home.At ten o'clock,we go oncemore,
To the lonely spot,
o take the ill fated crabs and lobsters,
And reset all the pots.And now my ork is over,
For one more day at least.
While people watch and wonder "Why?"
As I lie here asleep.
Richard Duncan G. 3.
Early Football.
Many things are enjoyable to watch or do; one of these is football which has a long history as it was played before the Middle Ages. In the early days, it was illegal to play football and men could be put in prison for breaking the law.
The early football was not like the football we play today. In those days goal posts were just chalked on a wall or a fence. Men did not play on a field but in the streets, so the pitches were not straight. When they played, hundreds of them were running around the streets kicking the ball as in those days anyone joined in. After a while, they started to play on fields and so come about the goal posts which did not have a crossbar, only a piece of string. When this came about, they started to cut down the number of players as they knew too many were playing. They decided on eleven players a side as it is today.
After a short space of time, professional football clubs started to "pop up" all over England, so some important men got together and thought of a contest in which the winner would receive a cup, the F.A. cup, which means the Football Association Cup. All the clubs which wanted to enter for this contest had to give some money toward the buying of the cup. I think it was the Wanderers against the Royal Engineers in the final and Wanderers won 1 - 0.
After this they started to play better as more cups, like the League Cup and the World Cup later on, could be won.
In 1938 when England went to play in Germany the English team were made to salute Hitler which they did not like to do , so they said they would beat the German team which they did. They won 6 - 3 which made Hitler angry as he thought his team were invincible, which they were not.
So we see football was played form the Middle Ages and before to today and it is improving all the time. It is becoming more interesting and is played better as the conditions in which is played are improving.
Gerard Brown. G.3.
Boldon Secondary School
To look at BoldonSecondary school today one would hardly think it possible that in a matter of a few years the whole character of the school has been changed. The school is no longer a dull brick building surrounded by fields butt a bright atmosphere has arrived with the construction of new prefabricated school halls and classrooms.
If one's parents were to attend the school today, they would observe an enormous change. No longer is the school separated into a boys' and a girls' school, and the old rule that girls must come and go be the girls/ entrance, and likewise for the boys, has also been dissolved.
One does not say "I am going to room 1" but "I am going to House Block 1 and to the Administration Block".
Many new changes like this have been for the better. In a morning one goes straight to the Assembly Hall, which now with its great capacity holds all the school. There is more contact between pupils and teachers, and the day is started off in the morning by Br. Armstrong wishing all a "Good Morning". It must also be very pleasant for him when all six hundred pupils join in the chorus of "Good Morning" Teachers also take part in this with the men teachers on the right of Mr. Armstrong and the ladies to the left. It sets an example to the pupils that, if teachers can attend the service and hoin in regularly, then there is no reason for pupils to grumble.
Mr. Armstrong tries very hard to make each service as interesting as possible, and if you think that it is boring and you make it obvious, one must also think that Mr Armstrong who has to face six hundred bored pupils, and that too is not easy. But, with joint effort, assembly can go with a 'swing'.
These new buildings have also introduced many facilities. A new sports hall has just been built which is large enough for four badminton courses across. Now Mr Storey can have night classes which before was impossible. Also the new hall in the Administration Block has the up-to-date equipment of spot lights and a control panel for fading lights. This can allow much more professional plays and concert to be performed. If such an occasion should happen, the hall is large enough to hold about five hundred as an audience.
All pupils should be proud of their new school and help to keep it new for future pupils to have as much pleasure out of it as we have.
Linda Gilroy. G.5.
Self Defence.
People differ in
their opinions about which is the best, boxing or judo. With
judo you are less likely to hurt and it is suitable for both boys
and girls. One well-known boxer said, "If a judo
expert grabs me before I punch him hard, he wins, but if I punch
him hard before he grabs me, I win". If a Judoha is
attacked he is restricted in the amount of force he is allowed to
use. He must not inflict more pain than necessary on his
adversary. A simple wrist-lock will show your attacker that
you are not to be toyed with. In judo we use our opponent's
clothing and his own weight against him. This is useful for
women. If they are attacked they can throw a full-grown man
and subdue him. But don’t think that if you know judo
you are invincible. You are not. But you have a
better chance.
Most people's idea
of karate is a Japanese expert breaking tiles with his head,
large planks of wood with his hand, bricks with his elbow and
boards with his feet. This is mostly due to publicity given
to the more spectacular parts of the sport which are usually only
demonstrations. I prefer Judo to the other arts of self
defence because it works as a means of self defence and not as
attack.
Tom
Bromley 4Sc.
Often on a sunny
day I go down to the beach. As soon as you get off the bus,
a slight breeze gushes up and hits you in your face. With
it comes the smell of the sea, freshness and cleanliness. The
wind whistles and the sea wraps its great white surf and its
spray around itself.
You walk along,
thinking or the lands the water has touched, the disasters it has
seen and the changes in plants, people and animals it has seen
since creation. Think, too, that this great expanse of
water covers two-thirds of the earth's millions of square miles.
It washes up the fish and mammals that live there. They
spend their whole lives under the water. The beautiful
plant life dances with the movements of the oceans. Their
colours are brilliant. The life under there (the creatures,
the waves, the sea) must be fantastic. Back up here on land
there is much to see.
As the sea comes
up the shore, it brings with it its "harvest",
its "crop", or, if hyou prefer it,"its
manufacture". By this I mean its shells, pebbles and
plants.
The water looks
fresh and clean as it rolls up the beach, its white surf rattling
the pebbles and making a whispering sound as it sis "sucked
" back towards the sea. It is like someone struggling
somewhere, but being forced back.
As the sea rises,
the people "retreat" and slowly but surely the water
"creeps" up the beach. Its line starts to move up
the pier until the place looks empty.
The people now are
hurrying for 'buses or sitting down looking at the sea, or merely
walking, as I am, looking and thinking of the wonders of the sea.
Now I come here to
compare the winter with the summer. As soon as I get off
the 'bus, an icy, cold wind coming off the sea hits me bitterly
in the face. The spray is also sensed but not seen. I
can also sense my face and cheeks turning red with the cold.
The people are not here and miles upon miles of empty coastline
lie taking great batterings from the weather.
Once again I see
the great waves and surf but it is not on the pebbles. It
is coming in, in big waves, and battering the pier, causing
massive sixteen foot waves and welting people who are unfortunate
enough to be nearby.
Various objects,
(weeds, sea-weed, old shoes and balls), are hurled onto the pier.
What a mess the place is in. passers-bys' hair is blown and
they are tormented by the unmerciful gales.
Yes, definitely
the summer is the best - the brilliant sun-shine throwing off
terrific heat, the people enjoying themselves. All
together, the summer at the beach is surely the best time and the
best place.
Barry
Dryden. 3A.
How Good is Your Memory?
(Solution
on page 37)
Maureen
Tindle G.2.
The Prince of Wales'
Investiture.
A
full year of careful planning, design and research went into the
stamps for the Prince of Wales' Investiture on July 1st.
Invitations
were sent in March 1968 to eight artists, including Welsh artists
Roy Morgan and David Jones, and
The
artist and printers, Harrisons, spent many months perfecting the
designs, guided by the Advisory Committee and
The
Investiture stamps were the second series to show
This
was the first time that Welsh had appeared on every stamp in the
set. It had previously appeared on the one shilling and
sixpenny bridge stamp depiction the Menai suspension Bridge.
About one hundred and thirty million stamps were on sale in
The
strip of three fivepenny stamps, called a Triptych, the nine penny
stamp and the one shilling stamp which comprised the set, bear
the words "Prince of Wales" in English and Welsh,
"Tywysog Cymru".
The
Triptych depicts three of the gates at
A
Celtic Cross, from Margam Abbey, Glamorgan, is shown on the
nine penny stamp, and, in my opinion, the worst stamp is a
threequarter face portrait of Prince Charles. This is
because it is a dull stamp and the Prince is not a very handsome
person really.
Douglas
Owens. G.4.
Across the
In
between drinks, sandwiches and being stuck on a sandbank in the
Mersey Estuary, the school trip to
After
a couple of days, the teacher decided to take us on a trip.
The first place we went to was a park, it was lovely. There
were trees, trees and trees, big and small and different shades
of green. Then we had our lunch by a lake. The meat
sandwiches were covered in fat, and the bank of the lake was
crawling with long legged spiders. One boy lost his shoe
and had to sit in the coach while we all got covered in bog
water. The teacher wanted us to see a view of a lake from a
hill, so we eagerly got out of the coach to see the lake. We
climbed over weeds, were stung by nettles and nearly broke our
necks on the boulders that lay in our path. When we hit the
bog, it looked like black soil. And then when we were all
standing on the soil, we began to sink and the water oozed up
into our shoes.
Although
the trip had its bad faults, I wouldn't have missed it for the
world. It was "Great" and if anyone wants fun on
a holiday you could not have any more than the fun I had
"Across the Irish Sea".
Ann
Lambert. G3
A School Dinner Hour.
At
Suddenly
all the studious, quiet, pupils who had been working away like
proverbial angels literally threw away their wings and halos and
sprouted wings and tails. Hated textbooks were crammed
haphazardly into already bulging haversacks and the volume of
noise increased as if it had been turned on ht a radio. The
teacher, however, seemed quite unperturbed by all the turmoil,
and after qu8etly and methodically putting away his books, he
glared at the impatient class, and growled softy, ""Go
on, Gerrout!"
Theses
words had the desired effect and the room was suddenly emptied of
thirty three scholars, who vacated the class in a fantastic time.
Some, apparently trying to beat the four minute mile, dashed
along the crowded corridors for home, but other stupid fools
(including myself) found ourselves outside the dining quarter.
A strong, pungent aroma, promising cabbage or fish, greeted me a
I reached the door, so taking one last deep breath I walked into
the crowded hall, and secured a seat on one of the wobbling forms
provided. As other people joined me I watched in horror as
the form creaked protestingly on its hinges, and sank slowly
down. Although told (by my neighbour) that it was safe, I
was not reassured , and prepared for an undignified descent onto
the floor, at the some time making a mental note to keep as much
weight as possible off it.
By
this time the hall was full, so the harassed teacher on duty
mumbled a short grace (ignoring other versions hissed at him from
various tables) and gave the command, "Right, Servers!"
The
daily stampede began. The "dinner ladies" were
almost hidden from view as crowds of famished pupils rushed
towards them from all directions.
Soon
the clashing and banging of cutlery against plates (or tables)
could be distinguished above the din, but the noise soon became
less noticeable as pupils received their dinners and began
endeavouring to cram as much food in their mouths as possible
without choking.
I
received my dinner and after the first initial shock sat looking
at it for quite some time, before deciding that it was edible.
On
the large, whjite, china plate, reposed two potatoes, looking
very much the worse for wear, one undersized, pale, anaemic
sausage, some stringy of -white leaves (cabbage ) and. Serving to
hide the rest, some brown, lumpy dishwater (later defined as
gravy). I waded through this, carefully avoiding the
cabbage, as I am not partial to seaweed dyed white,, and ordered
my sweet.
This
was slightly better, although a hammer and chisel would have been
better than a spoon, because the cornflake pie was rock solid.
After fishing out the last piece from the frothy, yellow sea of
custard, I placed my plate on the appropriate pile, and walked
out of the hall, ignoring my stomach which, unused to such
treatment , was reacting violently.
I
sauntered up the empty corridor and decided to spend the
remaining time of the dinner hour in the classroom, attempting to
do some of our ever-increasing homework, which all teachers
delight in handing out "Just to keep us busy"
Crossing the yard to the new block was something resembling a
crazy obstacle race, because I had to avoid such menaces as
cement mixers, holes, loose wire, piles of newly mixed cement,
sand and mud, all waiting to trip up or bog down the unwary
pupil. This accomplished, I flopped down in the large
classroom, and began a terrible struggle with irregular French
verbs and mathematical horrors.
Finally
the buzzer vibrated once more, driving all thoughts of Pythag. and
his delightful theory from my befuddled head, I selected my
books for the afternoon's lessons and walked slowly down the
crowded corridor , at the end of a typical school dinner hour.
Frank
O'Neill. G4
A
Graveyard 'Ghost'.
A
small boy and girl were walking through a graveyard. It was
a dark, cold night by the children were not afraid, that is until
something happened ……..
…."Who's that?" said the girl when she heard a
twig beak behind them.
"Don't
be silly", said the boy, "it's only your
imagination", but then he heard something which sounded like
somebody tripping over a stone.
"There",
said the girl "Now do you believe me?"
"No,
that was me" said the boy trying to hide the fact that he was
frightened.
Now,
both children were afraid but neither would admit it until
they saw a shadow behind them, and then they both said together
that they were afraid. The shadow followed them around the
graveyard.
"Go
away" said the girl. "We haven't done anything to
you."
"I've
just realised something ," said the boy, "shadows can't
exist in the dark".
It
could be a supernatural shadow, like a ghost or something,"
said the girl.
There
seemed to be no way out of the thought of the shadow except that
it was a ghost, and so both children walked along, hoping that
the 'ghost'; would not do anything to them. Then it seemed
to take off its head and put it under its arm.
"Run"
said the boy, but before they could the 'ghost' leapt in front of
them.
"Boo!"
it said, frightening them even more than before, and then it
began to laugh and took off its disguise. It turned out to
be their brother playing a practical joke on them.
"You
frightened us," said the girl.
"I
know," said her brother, "I meant to."
"How
did you make yourself look like a shadow?" said the boy.
"I wore a dark coat said his brother, "and to make
myself look as though I had lost my head I really had a ball on
my head and I had my collar turned up".
"Come
on" said the boy.
Then
the girl heard something. "Who's that?" she said,
"I thought I heard a twig break behind us"
Frank
O'Neill G. 2.
An Ode to the Don
That
rippling stream, singing with gentle tone,
Dancing
over rocks such beauty has never been known.
Fragrance
divine overpowering with perfume,
The
mighty Don is singing out of tune.
As
it winds its way over hill and though dale,
Attracting
many people to come and hail.
The
mighty Don's beauty can not be told,
People
must come for themselves to behold.
To
see such cleanness it does one' heart proud,
The
so pure water so clean and without cloud.
What
nature had hone it can not redeem,
As
the mighty Don, winds its way downstream.
Birds
can be seen doing things to the stream,
Things
which add colour, a colour none could dream.
A
raggy mattress rounds the bend,
An
oddity nature didn't send.
The
banks are frequented by rats galore,
One
comes, two comes and then more and more.
But
how can these things keep people away,
From
the mighty Don, still flowing gracefully, through night and day.
Well
shat more can we say that hasn't been said,
The
Don is a place where rubbish can bed.
To
see such things gracing the smell,
Are
not necessary, just a sniff will tell.
That
is enough to be said, and we must go,
The
Don's song is calling and as you will know,
No
one resists going to see where
The
Don flows onwards without a care.
Michael
Emms G. 4.
"Labour
saving" devices.
Once
upon a time there was an inventor called Mr. Wilson. He had
an enemy called Mr. Heath who was a Con. man. Mr Wilson did
not like Mr. Heath and he was frightened because he thought Mr.
heath might take his place as chief inventor and storyteller.
Quite often they would go and have a talk in the Houses of
Talkiment or, as they say in France, "Parlement".
All day they would argue and talk. Sometimes Mr. Wilson
would invent some very good fairy stories called promises. He
then went around and told all the people in the country the
stories because he thought it would make them all love him.
Quite a number of people liked his stories so they voted and
elected him "Chief fairy story teller" or Prime
Minister. He was so pleased that he got a new house with a
policeman outside the door to help him across the road and scare
would-be Coon. men away, because they might throw stink-bombs or
break in and steal his stories. All Mr. Wilson's helpers
were pleased because he had saved Labour with his devices so the
Most Popular ones, (M.P.'s for short) had a Labour Party to
celebrate.
After
a while he started to do nasty things to the people. He
froze their wages till they were so cold they dropped them, and a
little animal called Tax devoured the wages. Mr. Wilson
became Mr. Almighty and made prices heavenly, very high. The
people did not like this and they began to hate Mr. Almighty just
as they hated Mr. Brown Ale and Mr. Jenkins. Many people
began to like Mr. Heath and his Con. Men which made him happy.
Nr. Almighty was cross because the people liked Mr. Heath or
Smiler as he was called and Mr. Almighty became very jealous.
All over the country people voted for Mr. Heath and his Con. men
in mini-elections. Mr. Almighty;s devices were failing
fast. Nobody liked his fairy stories any more and did not
listen to him. Even comedians (real ones not the politician
ones) made fun of him and people thought that that was funny.
Mr.
Almighty had to think so he went to the Scilly Isles to think up
"scilly" stories. He was worried because hardly
anybody liked him, even his castle at Bar-Bara was no longer his
home. So he is going to think for a while and was heard to
say, "Well, there's quite a while until the next election so
I've time to find a way of getting rid of the Con. Men and
finding some new Labour saving devices."
Shirley Swaine G. 5.
An attempted rescue
One night during
the Easter holidays we caught a wild duck. It was covered
in oil. We took it home and put it in the old rabbit hutch
for the night.
The next morning
Mum sent me out for it. I took it in and gave it some
bread, soaked in hot milk, and a bowl of water. It ate the
food we gave it and then drank the water; then it started to walk
round the kitchen and found a piece of string. It began to
play with the string. After about ten minutes it got tired
of playing with the string and started to follow Judy our dog
around.
After dinner we
took it to the P.D.S.A. in
Catherine
Colman. 1. C.
Our School Night-class.
As many people
know, our school will soon become
Mr. Storey, the
boys' P.E. teacher, has started night classes at the school.
These are P.E. night classes for both boys and girls of the ages
of fifteen to eighteen. Every Thursday, for four till
All types of sport
are included in this; netball, basketball, football, cricket,
badminton, table tennis, tennis and all athletics. When the
new gym is finished, we hope to play most of the games in there,
that is, tennis, badminton, table tennis and netball.
Everyone can join
in at any game or sport for as long as wished, there is nothing
one must do.
This is a very
good idea as not only dies it fill in a little time byut also it
enables them tomeet new friends, learn new sports and at the some
time keep fit.
Marianne
Cook G. 5.
My Family as I seeThem
The transistor
radio blares out the latest songs in the Hit Parade, the baby
cries, Robin shouts to dad about some tool or other, and I try to
concentrate on my homework. This is the Angus family on a
Saturday. Heather, my sister, has brought her baby, Paula,
and herself to
My parents are two
entirely different people with exactly opposite characters.
My mam is about five foot three with fair hair and grey eyes, she
has a marvellous way of looking on the bright side of things,
even if she does have a quick temper. She is very thin and
although she worries, you would not think so by looking at her.
Mam has recently been in hospital and she gets terrible pains in
her back, she always seems as if she has not a care in the world
though. Dad, as I said before, is entirely different, he is
about five foot seven with dark curly air and a bald patch in the
centre of his head, He is getting rather fat, to look at
you would think he had all the cares of the world upon his
shoulders, except when he laughs - in truth he never lets
anything worry him. When he wants to be, and I don't want
him to be, he can be as deaf as a doorpost but when I do not want
him to hear, he generally does. My dad can be awfully
pessimistic when he puts his mind to it and it takes quite a bit
to change his mind. He hardly ever gets into a temper because he
hardly ever hears what one says to him.
Both my brothers
are like one or other of their parents, Malcolm, the eldest,
twenty-nine, looks like dad, the only difference being that
Malcolm was ill and in hospital for three years, thus gaining his
bald patch, while dad got his through old age. Robin, the
younger, twenty-four, has his mam's fair hair and grey eyes but
he is much taller, broader and stronger than mam. Malcolm
has my mother's character and my father's intelligence. He
is an architect in
My sister is like
neither of my parents. She is twenty six, has been married
to Frank, thirty, for six years and they have a sixteen-month-old
daughter Paula. They live in Jarrow. Heather has
always been determined to get what she wanted and what she has
always wanted is what she has, a family and a house of her own.
So that is my
family. Heather happily settled down ,Malcolm an architect
which was always his ambition, Robin the mechanic who never had
any particular ambition, except to live, and both of them
declaring that they are not going to marry until they are
thirty-two. Then my parents, mam, still worrying about
Robin and me in particular because she thinks we should have a
fixed aim in life, and dad who is content to go on as he is but
not content to let Robin or myself go on as we are. That is
the Angus family and despite all our faults, I think that we are
all of us happy as we are.
Joan
Angus G3.
Man
started out with feet all bare,
But soon he learnt his shoes to wear.
For tramping round on stones and rocks,
Was just playing havoc with his socks.
Just
leather soles tied on with thongs,
These were mankind's early ones.
But now he has them made of plastic
Kept on with inserts of elastic.
He
buys them all colours and shapes,
Some are not fit for Stone Age apes.
But if he buys them that don't fit,
His corns are bound to hart a bit.
There
are laces and buckles and buttons and bows,
some have zips as everyone knows.
Most children's shoes have them in rows and rows.
The teenagers have them with peeping toes.
The
fashion of shoes is all going back
To the day when the egg first began to crack.
So you never know, by the end of the year,
We may be walking with feet all bare.
Elizabeth
Burton G3.
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