A hacking cough recently persuaded me to seek further help from the Ear, Nose and Throat department.
Previous visits having led nowhere, I agreed to allow the Gastroenterology folk to investigate the next segment of the troublesome pipe.
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Digestive Health, as they are also called, are not my favourite set. I have given them many chances to redeem their reputation, but perhaps I am a hard case.
The nun who attempted to force boarding school stodge into me told me that if I was not careful, I would have difficulties later in life.
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She disliked me, but I think she would have stopped short of putting a curse on me.
It wasn’t just me. She disliked everyone. I am sure I never saw the woman smile once in the two years I was there.
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She really ought not to have been a teacher. One morning when she was quizzing us about our history homework, no-one seemed to have any answers.
She slammed her book closed and flounced off in a great flurry of black robes retorting:
“I’ll leave you to wallow in the slime of your ignorance!”
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Being average horrible 15-year olds, we thought this was tremendously funny.
My desk was by a window and glancing out, I saw my friend Phyllis looking out of her classroom around the corner. I made faces at her which made her laugh and won me a detention.
After school I reported with the other miscreants.
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One was in trouble for escaping and having a rendez-vous with a boy. Her punishment didn’t stick and she finished by being expelled. Horrors!
My task was to write an essay, about the sound grass makes when it grows.
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This, I believe was supposed to be a challenge, but when the invigilator came back half an hour later, I was still writing.
Tenors, sopranos, no doubt a chorus of some kind, I’ve long since forgotten. I know I thought it was rather good but it was received without comment.
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The head mistress was actually quite nice to me. She wrote in my report that I was “mature beyond my years.”
Maybe she hadn’t heard about me making cabbage faces at Phyllis.
When Christmas came around again, I went off to New York to meet my aunt and uncle. For some reason this was viewed with surprise but apparently I set a trend.
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At JFK a few years later, I found myself in charge of an unaccompanied school girl. She was wearing her blazer and I recognised it immediately.
She told me that the miserable old cow was now the headmistress. I could just imagine, if the girl went back and said she had met me, the woman would have raised an eyebrow and thought:
“I knew she would come to a bad end!”
Thank you, Carolyn, for your fascinating school days memories! I love the essay on the sound of grass growing!
Joanna
Wonderful! I really do hope that the girl reported back to the headmistress!
ha ha me too!
This was lovely to read, thank you for sharing!
Convent/Religious schools always sound like a nightmare to me. The idea of putting nuns and priests in charge of the development of young children could only ever have come from the same people who conceived the Spanish Inquisition.
Best wishes, Pete.
Nice school story. Essay on the sound of grass growing might be quite challenging. 🙂
Hope your cough will go away soon. Take good care of yourself 🙋🌞💗
The punishment that teachers find for children during detention – only on this topic one can write a book! Ha ha, I had a good laugh at your last comment on the ‘miserable old cow’ – that’s so funny!
Re. Respiratory protection; I refuse to be without this herb, it shields the sinuses, esophagus, and bronchial tubes. Rather than this link, try to obtain it from a local herb shop:
https://www.amazon.com/Solaray-Marshmallow-Root-480-Count/dp/B000I4C5HY