Somewhere on teh intarwebs Sir Tim wrote:
LOL, happy days indeed.
This thread got me to thinking (yeah, yeah...). A while back I was trying to
list the schoold I attended on Facebook (family made me sign up!) and I
couldn't find one of them listed. Also, Google didn't help (at the time), it
was quite bemusing. After posting the above I went to Wiki to read up on
Gloucestershire, followed a few links and found the reason why:
"Northleach did have a "long standing" (Westwoods) Grammar School, now
demolished. The westwood community centre now stands there."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Northleach
:( I loved that school. It has a lot of happy memories. My first proper
kiss (Gods she was gorgeous!), I remember the first time I looked at a girls
legs and my blood re-arranged its distribution in my body. Until then legs
were just legs.... Also it was the site of my first success with reverse
psychology at controlling a mob.
("New boys" were bog-flushed, amongst other things, as part of the old
rituals places like that had. When they came to drag me off to the bogs I
told them there was no need for anyone to get hurt, I'd come quietly. When
we got there I asked politely if I could examine the stalls, to find a clean
one, and I'd put my own head in if they didn't mind, I didn't want to break
a tooth. Oh, and how far does it need to be? They walked away in disgust! I
was later told by one of the prefects that he thought I was the first in
living memory to get away with *not* being forceably bog-flushed during my
first week at the school.)
I spent so much time in the biology lab, in particular looking at the
African Clawed Toads that I earned the knick-name "Frog".
Happy days indeed. A great old school now no longer exists, in it's place
stands a "Community Centre" <barf>. That makes me very, very sad. After
being a freak at primary school because I was so much brighter than the
other kids, going to Westwoods Grammar was like going home - I was still top
of (most of) my classes but not by anywhere near as much and was
congratulated by the other kids for it rather than ridiculed. It was such a
relief.
Then my family came to NZ where there is no segregation of schoolchildren
according to their ability and I was stuck in a class with kids three years
older and two feet taller than me who bullied and resented me. My new
nick-name was "Pom" and school was never again an enjoyable place to be.
Soon I discovered that rebelling, not doing school-work and acting the clown
made my life so much easier - but blew my future. I was deemed ineligible
for university even though I passed the entrance exams as I'd not completed
the ciriculum.
Ah Westwoods, the best time of my young life, possibly the best time of my
life fullstop. Full of curiousity, surrounded by boundless knowledge and a
much nicer group of boys than I'd known before - not to mention the girls!
Wonderful creatures with hyphenated names and *legs* below their short
skirts who, for some obscure reason wanted to talk, laugh and joke with me -
and kiss me!
<sigh> Happy Days.