Dreams of childhood (Part 4)

Dreams of childhood (Part 4)

Cor blimey, this blog is getting long! I apologise if I’m boring you but I’m trying to keep it in bite size chunks so it’s easier to read.

I’ve already described my delightful school uniform to you and when I first joined the school there were some very tasteful accessories to “complement” it. In the winter months the girls had a lovely brown hat, kind of bowl shaped with a mustardy yellow ribbon and the school badge in the centre. I seem to remember the boys had little brown caps, like Just William. But brown,obviously. In the summer months we had a straw boater with the same ribbon trim. I’m pretty sure there was lots of swearing from my mother when she was trying to sew the badge on to that one. During the summer months the girls had a bit of respite from all of the brown because we got to wear a much nicer summer dress, which had very narrow brown, pink and white vertical stripes. I loved my summer dress, especially because it meant we didn’t have to wear those dreadful ties for a while. Here’s a very fetching picture of me in the dress:

Ahhhh, look, we were getting the chairs out on The Lawn ready for prize giving. The Lawn was very special but more of that in a later post. As you know I really didn’t like my school uniform, it was about as bad as it is possible to be. Although there was one way that it could be made ever so slightly worse. How, I hear you cry? Careful now, don’t sit too close to the edge of your seat, you’ll fall off. Well, imagine if you added to the brown ensemble a hand knitted cardigan made from the finest scratchy wool. Extra thick yarn, for the best homemade effect. And why not have one arm longer than the other? All right, I’m exaggerating wildly. But I really did have a hand-knitted cardigan or three, lovingly created by my lovely Nanny. Nanny as in grandmother not childcarer, it was a prep school but we’re not THAT posh. I’ve just had a closer look at the three photos I posted of myself in Part 1 and each cardigan I’m wearing is hand-knitted. In this one it’s even pretty bobbly:

Doesn't that look lovely?

Strangely enough our school sports wear didn’t follow the brown theme at all. For gym classes in the school hall and outside during the summer we wore white t-shirts and blue shorts. Everyone wore the same, boy or girl. Our winter sports wear was a track suit of the brightest red with white adidas style go faster stripes. And the obligatory black school plimsolls of course, year round. I can’t believe they still make them today but they do and one accidental sniff of their rubberiness instantly transports me back to the school hall and games of dodge ball or trying (and miserably failing) to climb a rope. I’ve never been able to climb a rope. Bloody Jenny could though, once her leg wasn’t broken any more anyway.

I was never a sporty child, as my rope climbing is testament to, but my utter lack of ability didn’t end there. I was rubbish at (and a bit scared of) rounders. I was pretty hopeless at netball. I couldn’t swim. Indeed the annual swimming gala was always a painful experience for me given that I was one of only two children in the whole school that couldn’t swim a single stroke. I’m not sure why I was so hopeless at sports but I really was the child that was always picked last for the team. Maybe I was just too shy and pathetic to put myself forward for these things or maybe it’s because I was mentally scarred by my first ever netball lesson. I’ll never forget standing on the netball court, wearing my bright red tracksuit and feeling a touch apprehensive about starting something new with a new teacher, Mrs Oothan. All the boys were on The Lawn where they were going to play football and Mrs Oothan turned to me and asked if I shouldn’t be with them. “But I’m a GIRL,” I wailed, mortified. I mean, I know my hair was short and badly cut, but still. I grew it after that.

Although…here’s a comparison of me and number 2 son at a similar age…

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