‘A favourite pursuit followed as an amusement.’
If I accept this dictionary definition, then I’ve had, and
have, dozens of hobbies. But the
definition is far too loose, and misses the crucial element of a true hobby,
which is obsession. In my sense, I’ve
only ever had the one, which was – guess what – stamp collecting.
My parents had no experience of bringing up a boy, and my
father probably had few memories of his own upbringing, which in any case would
have been very different, in the 1920s, to mine in the 1950s. He certainly had evolved his own set of
hobbies by the time I was eight or nine –
woodworking, gardening, fiddling with electrical stuff – but I’m sure he didn’t think of these as
hobbies: they were just the fabric of his life, things ‘done’ rather than ‘followed’.
I was a compliant child until I reached puberty, and took a
natural interest in whatever was placed in front of me, so when it was
suggested that I might like to take up stamp collecting, I just went along with
it. The idea was prompted by the fact
that a particular aunt, Maud maybe, had ‘collected stamps’ and decreed, as late
Victorian aunts did, that Timothy might like to inherit her collection and make
something more of it. My mother (who was
in charge but also in awe) had no choice but to pass this early bequest on to
me; I had a look, saw an opportunity for some sorting and classification*, and
got stuck in.
Aunt Maud’s stamp collection was, I rapidly saw, a chaotic
mess. It seemed reasonable to try and
make sense of this, so I did, sorting by country, then (having acquired a
Stanley Gibbons catalogue) by date, issue, colour variations, perforations … After a few months, I decided to specialise
in what was then called ‘British Empire’.
In 1953, I was gifted a full set of mint Coronation stamps, from every
Colony and Dominion. But what I craved
was a Penny Black. I saved up pocket
money for months, and finally went to the stamp shop in Boscombe and bought
one, with a rather unusual red revenue postmark, for £2.
Part II will follow tomorrow.
* Perhaps my only true
enduring hobby.
I thought I had some valuable Penny Blacks until Barney dissuaded me of that cherished thought a couple of weeks ago.
ReplyDeleteThese self-adhesive ones aren't much cop are they?
that's not the sort of gear you could buy in Boscombe when I were a lad
ReplyDelete