Gemstone
Here for the Journey
When I look back on my childhood the summer days were longer, the grass was greener and the sky was bluer. Thelast school term was the one where all the good things happened. There were walks in country lanes to identify trees and wildflowers, the school trips to amazing places in a coach and of course the long summer holidays to look forward to.
With summer came outdoor sports and the favourite in our school was rounders. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy rounders, it was just the humiliation!
Miss Hargreaves the PE teacher would march us down to the cloakroom where we would get undressed to our vest and knickers, boys and girls together, leaving top clothes on our coat pegs. Once divested we were marched off again down the corridor, across the playground and onto the playing field where we would sit cross legged and wait for instruction.
The first task was to elect captains. These were fairly predictable as Miss Hargreaves liked to choose the best players. After tossing a coin to see who would go first the captains would then take turns to pick their players.
As the captains picked their teams, the smiling players would line up behind them while the rest of us sat cross legged, arms folded, chins raised and smiling. Some even ventured to unfold their arms to point to their chest in a “pick me” gesture.
Me? I would sit quietly until the end, hardly bearing to breathe, never daring to draw attention to myself, waiting to be allocated to the last caller.
© July 2008
With summer came outdoor sports and the favourite in our school was rounders. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy rounders, it was just the humiliation!
Miss Hargreaves the PE teacher would march us down to the cloakroom where we would get undressed to our vest and knickers, boys and girls together, leaving top clothes on our coat pegs. Once divested we were marched off again down the corridor, across the playground and onto the playing field where we would sit cross legged and wait for instruction.
The first task was to elect captains. These were fairly predictable as Miss Hargreaves liked to choose the best players. After tossing a coin to see who would go first the captains would then take turns to pick their players.
As the captains picked their teams, the smiling players would line up behind them while the rest of us sat cross legged, arms folded, chins raised and smiling. Some even ventured to unfold their arms to point to their chest in a “pick me” gesture.
Me? I would sit quietly until the end, hardly bearing to breathe, never daring to draw attention to myself, waiting to be allocated to the last caller.
© July 2008
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