Thursday 2nd April 2026

It is Thursday.

Again.

Which means phys early doors.

Which is fine.

And yet, after the sorting out of the loft, we have a box full of stuff.

1950 seems a lifetime ago. And it was.

The war was won, and Britain liked to pretend it ruled the world in technology, when the reality was something dofferent.

Eagle comics began in early 1950, and my Dad collected every edition form the first, and these were save in his wardrobe, all the way through the 50s, 60s and into the 70s.

At which point I found them, and was allowed by my Grandmother to take out the exploded drawing in the centre of many editions of how steam locomotives work, or how the new Piccadilly Circus Station would work underground.

The upshot was that many of the rarest first editions were destroyed, when they were worth a small fortune.

Would some 52 editions of the first three years copies be worth anything, especially as they had been kept in wardrobes for the best part of six decades.

I did a Google search, and found a comic shop in Hythe, so that is where we would head later in the day.

First off was a session at the gym, as usual for a Thursday.

Then back home for a shower, shave and change of clothes, before driving to Hythe.

With schools still in session, the roads were clear, so we drove along the M20 before turning down to Hythe, then to the parking area.

I took the plastic box of comics, not just Eagles but also Marvel comics from the 60s to the shop.

I knew enough how much these're worth, and so being offered 50p per edition, other than one comic having the first time the Human Torch had been seen, and even though in poor condition, was worth £40, though with their cut was offered twenty.

So, twenty five quid all in, I accepted.

But the Eagles were too old for them to take on, and in reality they were too fragile to be hawked much more.

I took them and saw a British Heart Foundation, ad they accepted the Eagles, the Simpson's Halloween toys, no questions asked.

So, I gave them all to charity.

All I had left was an empty box. I met Jools at the car park, she saw the box, empty, and was happy with what I had done.

The charity might make a fiver, or fifty, or five hundred quid, whatever, I am sure its the kind of gesture Dad would have approved of .

We walked back to the car, then drove back home hover the down to the motorway and home.

Lots less to deal with.

Through the afternoon we watched three more Beatles Anthologies. All good, and maybe an understanding of of how they became the biggest group in the world.

Makes you think how four guys from Liverpool took over the world.

But they were pretty good.

I listened to podcasts in the bathroom while sitting on the chaise longue, and took a shot of the sky.

It was pretty magical.

The evening faded to the usual, so I read some, listened to the radio, and so Maundy Thursday drew to an end.

Easter next.