Wednesday, March 13, 2013

Proud day but it didn't last

Off to senior school, in my case, Cheltenham Grammar School
I believe that this was one of the proudest days of my mum's life. That's what she told me at the time. Her second son (that's me) had passed the test to go to Cheltenham Grammar School for Boys, to join his older brother. She even brought me a bicycle once it was known I'd passed. The very best students in the town went to CGS she whispered in my ear, as she kissed it. I don't remember much about my mum, but I remember this. I must admit I felt proud as well as we took this photo on my first day. I was 11 years old, and it must've been 1971. Before we even got around the corner, my brother had whisked the cap off my head and thrown it on a neighbour's garage roof. It was downhill from there. I can honestly say I detested much of my time at CGS, the study was tough, though I loved history and british constitution and sports, obviously, it was a long bus ride across town each day, the homework was never-ending and it was difficult to make real good friends I found. I even got the cane from the deputy head in a case of mistaken identity. I could go on but I won't. Suffice to say, when I was sixteen I couldn't wait to leave. It was a door I desperately wanted to close shut.

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