Hobbies featured large in our lives since there was little else to do. Television had only just arrived in Rhodesia by then, but with only one channel in black and white. However, we three children loved to read, visiting the library so often that the librarian commented on the frequency of our visits. Reading was a hobby which was always encouraged by our parents.
My brother, John, and I loved to put together plastic kits, depicting, in my case, various historical figures and in his, usually military aircraft. Our parents bought us the model kits, which came in small lightweight cardboard boxes. Inside we found tiny grey pieces of pre-moulded plastic. Then we began the task of separating and gluing those pieces together, to form three-dimensional models. I loved the historical figures of King Henry VIII or Anne Boleyn, for example. Once they were built, we had to paint them. It was such fun trying to make the figures identical to the picture on the lid of the box. We bought tiny tins of Humbrol paint, and dipped our paintbrushes in so carefully, so as not to spoil the quality of our model. I loved to line up the three or four which I made. I thought they were so beautiful. I never played with them. I simply admired my own handiwork.
Building model airplanes (gliders) out of balsa wood became a favourite pastime of my father, too, one that lasted for several years. I cannot remember how many he had, at any one time, but there were often bits of balsa wood all over the table. My father started with a boxed kit, from which he retrieved a large paper pattern or plan which he pinned onto a wooden board. He then removed from the box the strips of balsa wood, after which we would watch him, using an Exacto knife, carefully cutting the balsa into the required struts, each to be glued and pinned onto that same plan, which was more like a blueprint. Gradually, we would see one side of an airplane fuselage take shape, with three more yet to be completed to produce a three-dimensional skeleton of an aircraft fuselage. The wings, some of which were enormous, 6 or 7 ft. in length, had to be built, too, of course, using the same process of cutting, gluing, pinning, and waiting for all to set.
The task still wasn’t done, though. We children watched our father cut out pieces of fragile, coloured tissue paper, and glue it to the frame of the balsa airplane. The last step was quite fascinating. Our father painted the tissue with a special liquid, called dope (nothing to do with marijuana, I hasten to add!), a setting compound which allowed the tissue to become stiff and more resilient. The finished aircraft often looked magnificent!
To fly these aircraft our family often drove outside the city of Salisbury to a disused airfield or to a clearing in the bush. We took a picnic lunch and set off for the day. I have to say that this was not my favourite pastime, because I considered it boring, but I didn’t have much choice in the matter. It was a family outing, so we all went.
