A big news day. Bobby Sands died at 1.17 a.m., , and almost immediately it was like all-out war, youths lobbing petrol bombs at Army Land Rovers and hooded armed blokes carrying rifles around in broad daylight. Prince Charles got a letter bomb, the Queen was heckled and had a balloon full of tomato ketchup thrown at her in Norway. Pro-Bobby Sands supporters demonstrated in Chicago, San Francisco, New York and worldwide. British prestige must be really low.
At school, a combination of boredom and tension once more. It seems the Assembly definitely an all go for me. I was ‘running’ third lunch. After Art got back to find Dad messing about with stamps, which he’s started again after a lay-off of seven years. He seemed really enthusiastic and happy, sitting there leafing through sheets of stamps. We valued them and some individual stamps are worth £30 each, many at £6. His collection is worth about £500 in total.
Mum went for her driving lesson in the evening and despite the rain she said she’d really enjoyed it. I’ve still got my essay for Hirst to complete and to get ready for this solo assembly tomorrow; talk about pressures. My cope/demand ratio feels about zero right now.
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