School reunion, school reports and could do better

Hurrah!  The decorating is finished and the blue paint has finally bitten the dust.  After four coats of one coat paint on each wall, a lick of white gloss on all the woodwork and a general tidy up in the vicinity, the spare room at my parents’ house is looking pretty good!  They have yet to view the transformation so final opinions on the new colour (and the fact that I have done any work at their house) are awaited.

I met with some friends in London at the weekend for a long overdue catch up.  We were at school together back in the 1970’s and most of us had not seen each other since then.  Spookily none of us have really changed all that much over the past few (ahem) years – we are obviously ageing gracefully.  So many funny memories from our school days were shared and the realisation that in today’s world our school would be condemned on many accounts – cats running freely around the buildings (and kitchen); meals eaten at our desks (this only after we had carried tray loads of hot food from the kitchen all around the school – including, in later years, to the house over the road); lessons and exams held in caravans; all sports events held miles away from school (the school was converted houses and the only ‘grounds’ were the gardens complete with washing line); lack of science facilities, cooking area and other basic provisions which today’s children take for granted.................I could go on........ We had a picnic in Hyde Park followed by a couple of hours standing under cover in the kiosk area by Speaker’s Corner to dodge the heavy rain. God bless the British summer.  The hunt is now on to track down more members of our ‘old girls posse’ with a plan to hold another reunion in 2012 before we all need to allow for zimmers and incontinence aids to make the day do-able.

I have since looked through my school reports..................they make interesting (if rather cringe worthy) reading.  “Lack of attention” rears its head several times over the various years.  Personally I attribute that to the way in which we were taught, i.e. if the teachers had been more engaging and made lessons more interesting and fun then I would very likely have paid more attention.  I have learned more historical facts from watching Blackadder and Horrible Histories than I ever absorbed from Mrs Hills’ lessons.  I am sure she was pleasant enough away from school, but her appearance in school gave the impression she was permanently sucking on a particularly manky lemon, which hardly inspired her teenage pupils in any way.

For some crazy reason I am persevering with the Zumba classes.  It is a great social event and I do have fun but my participation has all the grace of a new born giraffe and the co-ordination of a 1960’s psychedelic shirt.  Just when I think my arms and legs are moving in time with each other I look at the people around me and realise I still have a lot of work to do in this area.  Looks like I should dust off the treadmill now and make use of it before it vanishes under the mountain of stuff I am storing on it.