School reminisces

The "Tuck Shop" was a staple that I had to get used to as at my previous schools being day ones had less of a need and did not provide anything like that with midday meals for those who didn't do sandwiches being the limit.

The Tuck Shop was the place that if you wanted a snack such as crisps, a chocolate bar or soft drinks you would go when it was open at recess and was run under supervision by older children and at our school the School Council would set and review what was sold, with a budget set by the School who would buy the stock from a Cash and Carry supplier.

Stock and prices were clearly indicated to try to save time from the inevitable "and how much is..." and everyone using had to join the line waiting their turn, a great British trait.

Unlike this school, the area for meals was seperate.

Being a boarding school routines were different because you lived and slept school life and that meant you had Breakfast at school, usually cereals and toast and part from the midday meal, you had your "tea" around 5pm which tended to be such british children staples as SpogBog aka spaghetti bolognese, fish fingers, meatballs and cornish pasties before evening activities.

Moving along

It's a odd time really.

You might of thought with the funeral dealt with which was praised by many as being one the best they've attended with just the right choice of hymns, songs and eulogy to be really meaningful and yet not over the top attended by some fifty-six people that might be it but that's not really been the case.

For instance, Dad needed to go to the bank on Monday as his account like many was a joint one meaning Mum had a bank card and was a name on the account which needed to be changed and at the same time a cheque from an insurance company as part payment of the funeral needed to be deposited.

In today's world of reduced branches that meant a journey of several miles each way to get that done.

Then of course Sunday was Mother's Day which just brought back the sense of loss as on radio, tv and online you were bombarded with ads and in store you'd have lots of people carrying related merchandise.

By bad coincidence Monday would of been Mum's birthday where even last March we went to a local pub for a meal together apart from yes more cards we obviously didn't have this year and presents and obviously at some point the cards that were there, over fifty needed to removed post funeral which just emphasized that loss as the window was empty.

One of plus points was seeing some of people at Mum's church on the saturday as they were setting the decorations up for Easter and being able to talk freely with them about how things were while in a more weekend boys outfit of a long sleeved t shirt, short socks and those blue cord short trousers.

Not the classic GSS thing sure but something that worked enabling me to be just me with people totally accepted as I am which for me was always the long term plan - just be the BOY you are in the community.
 

The final departure and acceptance

This morning will be a earlier start than usual from the angle that unlike most wednesday's there is a set timetable I have to meet because today is the funeral of Mum and I have to be up and ready for 8:40 am as that's when we we need to be in the car which after a short spell for locals to wave Mum off we make our way to the Crematorium for a short service a few miles away.

Apart from hymns, her cousin, a Minister, will read a short account of her life drawn not just from his recollections but from ours showcasing just what we are and will continue to miss featuring her interests such as Motorsport, Vintage Aircraft, her role in the local community both personally to people and roles within school, church and local politics.

Dad has agreed to me attending in best little boy mode, what Mum came to love in later life so tie, dress shirt, unbranded school jersey, longer grey shorts and argyle plaid socks are ready to put on and dufflecoat.

Shoes have been polished and cleaned up so I will be very smartly dressed as I am, Mum loved and Dad is happy with.

Such occasions are inevitably emotional as we give thanks for that life, recalling those moments that remind us so much but to just go and be out as me supported by my family is very moving.

I was accepted without exception from family members, the wider community and the undertakers who were very taken by me just being that authentic little with nothing to apologize for.

Normal service or what passes for it resumes next week.

 

Corduroy trousers, Mum and me

 Things that were originated at one point but arrived at another come into this very much changed situation as we have now got the nuts and bolts of Mum's funeral arranged with date, time, person to officiate and formal notices for the press all underway.

The history of corduroy trousers and me goes back a long time, generally the era of the creeping in long trousers when Mum was looking for something hardwearing as with my disabilities I was more likely than most boys to fall over and damage them.

You might say, I certainly did, that frankly the best thing given all of that was short trousers full stop as at least all that was needed was cleaning up any cuts, antiseptic such as TCP and plasters (bandaids) to keep it clean but this was the 1970's and everybody was pushing longs typically jeans as they were held to be "cool".

The first cords I had were dark dusty pink colour which frankly horrified me - it might of been a pretty colour but no boy wore pink in 1970's britain ever - being almost girls so I had to keep a watch out coming from Sunday School and the likes if in them as other boys would give you grief and some for wearing anything they felt girlish.

Later one were at least more sensible colours such as navy blue and brown although it was never long before I was going around with at least one well worn out knee and this topic came to for during the Long Trousered Rebellion of the mid to late 1970's.

Fast forward to 2022 where as we all know that arguement wasn't just settled over time although it took initially a compromise to be put back in short trousers but moving over the last few years especially during Covid to wearing them around 98% of the time no matter what.

What might of happened if instead of those dreaded dark pink cord long trousers perhaps the hard wearing requirement was taken up but in the form of corduroy short trousers which were not uncommon in prep schools as general wear for that very reason?

Well Mr P who does stock traditional aka "proper" short trousers in adult sizes amongst other things was having made some naby blue cord short trousers with traditional white lining which tends to be hard to get today for some reason or other.

That picqued my interest that placing a pre-order happened.

 

The other thing was by doing so at the point of ordering the length could be altered to something more of that era rather than this "on or just above the knee" trend of today so I had them taken up to a inside leg of five that have more the coverage of the boy on this historic picture on the left, noticably shorter but not head turning and a close match for how mine were then.

They arrived last month due to a few issues with materials rather than as anticipated before Christmas, intentions being to wear when spending christmas with Mum so given she was very ill then she didn't get to see them.

It was a pity because they looked great on me - Mum did come to like me in short trousers all over again - and I'm sure she'd of seen that really would of been a better idea had she'd done that back in the day.

An abiding memory was just before Christmas Day sat with her watching the CBeebies Puss In Boots pantomine intently in grey shorts looking very much as her little boy enraptured in the performance before things took a bad turn.

*Top photo credit: Albert Prendergast Ltd.

Lessons from the past for today

It's March.

In the six years since this blog has been around I've looked at a good number of things that have come up which may of been things just from the past or from when I first realized I seemed to be staying in the same lane as my peers seemed to evolve and move on to very different lives, interests and at times emotions around certain topics.

They may of in most respects moved on into adulthood, seeming on the surface at least to feel comfortable with that while to me they're the "grown ups", I'm not and I feel adulthood from what I see of it is highly overrated with  whole aspects of your life being just shut down to accomodate the demands of "the system".

It's been obvious with me my development is such that I struggle with being anything other than still  a schoolboy and to the extent to which anything regarding "growing up" goes just working towards and maintaining being a responsible, mature boy is far and away more appropriate.

This last two months has been a challenge, from putting other needs first rather than being more around what you felt like doing but in bringing back memories from some of the hardest periods mentally in my life, not least the loss of my best forever friend, Andy in my early teens and for watching a few years after one of the Mark's slowly losing their life.

Those two events pretty much shock me to the core back then, leading me more to living for and in the now lest the next day fail to arrive and yet as badly helped as was common place sadly in that era as it was, I didn't just survive stuck in those times but adapted to those changes, making a fresh start as traumatic as things were.

Today I feel it's essentially the same.

This boy is working through the emotions while rebuilding life and relationships that I need using the life lessons left me so I move on, not forgetting the past but building the future.

I'll be still in grey uniform, looking every inch I feel.

I may need or hug or two but I'll get there.