Me, Carl and Foxy (sister Glenys' intended) at St Leonards. Foxy's HQ behind us. God, he used to drive me everywhere in that thing. This was our first extended trip away from home. 1974 (sigh). I was thirteen. What a hair-bear!
Yep, Carl was still a happy chappy (but it didn't last much longer). Foxy was great company back then. He was kinda like a big kid. The thing is, he still is.
Still at St Leonards, inside the bus that Foxy's dad owned. Jeanette (and her horse) came with us. Look at sleepy-head on the left. Damn my clothes were ugly! But this was the Seventies.
A final farewell (and good riddance) to my teens. Because, as far as I know, there aren't any more photos of me as a teenager (until I'm nineteen). It's kind of fitting: I do think of them as my 'lost years'. From here it was downhill for quite a while - nothing but wagging, unemployment, crime and solitude.