The smell of the hockey boots, the damp-then-dried PE kit, the horrible PE knickers... God, what were they thinking of? Thank you Emma for today's time travel memories!
I remember having been made to stand in the dark corridor outside the swing doors, having been caught talking by matron... it was dark. I opened a window. Over the flat roof below the window, I could see the lights of the staff-room where they were having dinner and adult chatter. I climbed out of the window and sat on the roof... ages later, the matron returned from dinner and I heard her footsteps pass in the corridor above my head... she went through the swing doors and down to her flat. I climbed back through the window... 'hours' (so it seemed), the housemistress came back from dinner and found me standing in the dark outside the swing doors that led to the dorm stairs... "who put you out here?" "Matron" I replied.... "Go back to bed at once"... I did, but heard the knock on matrons door and 'words' exchanged as to the lateness and length of my punishment... I smiled!
Catching up on a few instalments- every one of them so beautifully written and read by you Emma. And Jacks! Oh joy. Have not thought of them for decades and now, like all your details, they spring back into life.
Oh, Emma - boarding school resilience. That term really struck me for as I read your chapters it feels like something so much deeper than that, though at the time, the moments by moments must have called forth any and all resilience you could muster. The way the past weaves into the present, the memories and feelings that are so palpable and everlasting, though thankfully not ever present, gives witness to the deep imprints on our lives during childhood. Jacks - I loved them to and it makes me want to play a game. I am just catching up on a few chapters and with each one am stunned by the experience and the way you have chosen to relive it through your beautiful writing.
Amazing powerful writing -- we are dragged down into the drying rooms whether we want to go there or not!
The smell of the hockey boots, the damp-then-dried PE kit, the horrible PE knickers... God, what were they thinking of? Thank you Emma for today's time travel memories!
And thank you, Anna, for reading them and for commenting.
I remember having been made to stand in the dark corridor outside the swing doors, having been caught talking by matron... it was dark. I opened a window. Over the flat roof below the window, I could see the lights of the staff-room where they were having dinner and adult chatter. I climbed out of the window and sat on the roof... ages later, the matron returned from dinner and I heard her footsteps pass in the corridor above my head... she went through the swing doors and down to her flat. I climbed back through the window... 'hours' (so it seemed), the housemistress came back from dinner and found me standing in the dark outside the swing doors that led to the dorm stairs... "who put you out here?" "Matron" I replied.... "Go back to bed at once"... I did, but heard the knock on matrons door and 'words' exchanged as to the lateness and length of my punishment... I smiled!
I’m fascinated by this, Angie. I can ‘see you’ sitting in that place.
Catching up on a few instalments- every one of them so beautifully written and read by you Emma. And Jacks! Oh joy. Have not thought of them for decades and now, like all your details, they spring back into life.
Oh, Emma - boarding school resilience. That term really struck me for as I read your chapters it feels like something so much deeper than that, though at the time, the moments by moments must have called forth any and all resilience you could muster. The way the past weaves into the present, the memories and feelings that are so palpable and everlasting, though thankfully not ever present, gives witness to the deep imprints on our lives during childhood. Jacks - I loved them to and it makes me want to play a game. I am just catching up on a few chapters and with each one am stunned by the experience and the way you have chosen to relive it through your beautiful writing.