Good Memories

A Memory of Welwyn.

I would have been at The Grange from c59-65 (Lexie Irving), big sister Sally from c53-64 and my younger brother, Richard c63-65 when we moved to Cheshire. The overall memory is definitely positive. Ok so the big double doors to the kindergarten terrified me (I was certain I was going to be trapped between them in the dark), lunchtimes were a trial as I was an extremely fussy eater, the green baize studded door to Mr Miller's room was known to be the door to damnation (especially for naughty girls or boys who got the slipper or the cane - not me, I was far too good!) and times tables with Mr Miller made me shake with fear. But who can forget Mr Miller leaning against the mantelpiece explaining equations with Mars bars, Mrs Millers' excruciating French accent and the spelling games with us all lined along the wall? Ok so I never reached the high bar in gym, but Mr M used to help me up and my senior school days definitely benefited from the rope climbing skills and basic Latin learnt there. My knees are permanently scarred from constantly falling over in the cobbled courtyard and the shaled rear play area. Boys vs girls seemed to be the main game as we got older which involved more running and falling. In fact the study was not actually as terrifying as I'd feared. I remember being taken down with the class to sit and watch a Wimbledon tennis final (though in honesty I would have been happier in class, I never have acquired the knack of watching sport). I also remember both the Millers as being essentially kind, if strict, and when my mother was late to pick me up yet again, I was taken into the warmth of the study where they tried their best to make me feel at home, even if I was sitting on the edge of my chair like a bird ready to take flight. Sports day and prize giving, someone mentioned. What a fantastic affair that was. All the dads racing trying to beat Dr Dancie (or is it Dansey? I don't know) and my dad, definitely older but giving it all he could, which made up a tad for my pathetic efforts. I seem to remember competing for last place with Julie Holloway in the 100 yards, and in long jump I never even managed to reach the sandpit. And what about cricket under the chestnut tree...ok so the cricket took place beside the tree but whilst waiting to be humiliated at the stump, the tree gave a good place to play. And hockey in the field, sharing with that enormous grey horse...yes, yet another thing that terrified me! Fortunately I have grown up to be much braver!