please empty your brain below

oh the memories!!!

I walked past a shop in town t'other day that was advertising presents for teachers. When did that little racket start up then? Not content with 6 weeks off they're now fleecing the little darlings as well. Never happened in my day, grumble etc

I was going to bring chocolates just for you... but I ate them

the is nothing so frightening as seeing gangs of teachers hangin' around street corners during the holidays with no one to punish.

..half past three? In our dreams... they finish at lunchtime and have already had one half-day due to the heat this week round here. Any slight pretence of school work finished two weeks ago. pah!

mastermind

All together now, loud voice,"one more day to go, one more day in sorrow, one more day in this old dump and I'll be home tomorrow..."

I haven't heard Harriet's rhyme before, we used to sing this(obviously more ASBOs at our school than Harriet's):-

We broke up we broke up
We don't care if the school blows up
There'll be no more English, no more French
No more sitting on the old school bench
If the teacher interferes
Stand her up and box her ears
If that does not do the trick
Dynamite will do it quick.

George...... don't do that.

Sadly my teacher neighbour has moved so she won't be leaving her excess flowers and chocolates on my doorstep for when I get home.

And the memories come flooding back... Our 'school song' was more like Verity74's - except we used to sing about the school falling down rather than blowing up:

We break up
We break down
We don't care if the school falls down
No more English, no more French
No more sitting on the old school bench!

I'm so glad you said Primary. that sounds really rather like mine.

Whereas at secondary the last full day was taken up with...can you believe this...cleaning and tidying. Everyone had to polish their desks, amongst other things.

The final half day was Mass, which usually went on for an hour and a half and whilst school chapel was freezing 364 days of the year, on Breaking Up Day it was worth running a book on how many girls would faint. And a separate one on how many would have self-induced it.

One year my friend and I were put outside for talking. I think it was supposed to be a punishment.

At the time we viewed it as supreme irony and a result, but on reflection, now, considering that it was our RE teacher who was perceptive and enlightened and knew us well enough, she probably felt that it was utterly pointless and perhpas even sinful to force Conscientious Objectors such as us to participate in something that held no meaning.

I remember the school blowing up song now! i'd forgotten.

Cheers for writing my post for today

I'm rather disturbed as to the accuracy of this memory. I have also, thanks to commenters, remembered my old school song. But I shall keep it to myself.

Oh you shouldn't y'know!

Bastard for writing this post. Here in Jakarta they've all started back after (only) four weeks off and I'd forgotten the delights of the whole of August to wander the world or wherever.
Ho hum.

Simon Says! Simon Says!

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BORRRRP!











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