I guessing my games teacher based his remarks on my school report that year on the one cricket ball I ever bowled at him.
Football was very much the dominating sport at my school. Sure we had tennis courts and running tracks and the occasional student teacher who wanted to convert everyone to rugby, but basically if you didn’t like football you were were an outcast. I didn’t like football.
I loved cricket though, but because it was a summer game we didn’t get to play it much, so I joined the local county club and trained on a Friday evening.
At school they held trials for the cricket team. I bowled the teacher out first ball with a stunning full toss. I didn’t make the team. Instead he picked the entire footballer team to play.
Just one f***ing thing after another*
Finally, this has to be my best school report comment ever. I’m proud to say that little has changed over the years.
Now this should be interesting. An envelope full of my old school reports. I wonder what my English teachers had to say.
“A strong dramatic sense”, I wonder if that means I was always over reacting when they set homework. I hated homework.
“I feel he could further improve the quality of his written work with care”. I admit I did have terrible handwriting, or did they mean the actual words I was trying to use. Both?
Things will be better next year Sir!
There’s the drama again. I remember we used to do little comedy sketches with props that the teacher had brought in. Daft things like Action Man clothes and we’d do a fake TV advert for washing powder that went wrong and shrunk everything. Who would have know at the time that years later I’d be writing radio commercials for skip hire companies and carpet warehouses.
In the school play I took on the role of the guinea pig in Alice In Wonderland. I know exactly what you are thinking, there isn’t a guinea pig in Alice In Wonderland. Remember, it was school play so they had to make up parts so that everyone who wanted to be in it could. I think I managed to make it my own, but I was upstaged by the stick insect and the dung beetle.
Tomorrow I will have a look at what my Physical Education teachers had to say about me. That should be a laugh.
My knees are giving me Hell, so I’m taking it easy today. I think I’ve spent most of the past few weeks on the floor painting or taking up carpet or putting down new flooring or kneeling to assemble some flat pack furniture.
Note from next door
So today I’ve been sorting through some old papers.
I found this note from next door which must be a couple of years old. It says,
Do you think you could put a nail in the front fence.”
I didn’t think about it at the time, but I realised reading it again that there is no question mark.
So rather than it being a polite “would you mind awfully”, it’s more of a “I am rather surprised you have not done this so pull your finger out…”.
In case you are wondering, I’ve pixelated the signature. That’s not how they usually sign their notes. I’m not living next door to Prince or anyone like.
I wish I’d kept other notes from my neighbour. “Windows tomorrow” is a frequent one and the rather worrying “police were in our gardens” note of 2018.
My neighbour once sacked my window cleaner because he drenched her net curtains. Admittedly he was washing her windows at the time and I don’t think it was deliberate but still, I’m not sure she should have taken the law into her own hands and barred him from doing mine.
The window cleaner previous to that one had a fall (not at either of our houses) and was too frightened to climb a ladder again. Three window cleaners in 8 years. Not sure what the average is.
I was tidying up my various DIY bits when I heard something I didn’t realised I’d not heard for some time.
It was the the Teddy Bear’s Picnic drifting over from a street or two away.
Two things went through my mind. Firstly, gosh, I haven’t heard the ice cream van for ages. Secondly, gosh, should they be out selling ice cream?
As a child we were discouraged from buying from the ice cream man as Mother always said that he didn’t wash his hands after going to the toilet. How did she know?
Occasionally a different van would come round. It was the Walls Ice Cream van and we were allowed to buy from the elderly gentleman who was always smartly dressed. I did love a 99 with the Flake in it.
My feelings towards rehanging doors have not improved over the last 24 hours.
Here’s an extract from a conversation I had with myself earlier.
Me 1: What were they thinking?
Me 2: Who?
Me 1: I hope that the current doors of whoever spent the last thirty years painting over the hinges squeak really loudly.
Me 2: Didn’t we have this conversation yesterday?
Me 1: I also need to take off a few centimetres from the bottom of the door.
Me 2: Don’t you mean millimetres? Please don’t take off centimetres.
Me 1: Millimetres, silly. Oh God, that’s just the sort of thing I’d do isn’t it.
Me 1: Hmm. A jigsaw just isn’t going to cut it. (Laughs at unintended pun).
Me 2: You need a planer.
Me 1: I’m sure there must be a tool perfect for this job.
Me 2: Yes, it’s called a planer.
Me 1: I wonder what YouTube says.
Me 2: It’ll say buy a planer.
Me 1: People seem to be using a planer.
Me 2: Are you even listening to me?
Me 5: I wouldn’t bother Number Two. I gave up a long time ago and I’ve slowly slipped down the rankings of internal conversationalists.
Me 1: Excellent. It’ll be here tomorrow.
Me 2: You did measure and mark off how much needs cutting off before you removed it right?