ChatterBank1 min ago
MM Links October 2011 Week 4
54 Answers
This is Morgan Le Fay back with a fourth offering of link words.
When I reached my teens in the late fifties, it was decided that that my rustic edges needed a bit of polish and that it would be a good idea to remove me from my rather isolated rural setting. Hence, I was packed off to boarding school in the city.
The school counted around sixty boarders from the age of five to eighteen, most from various parts of the UK, others whose parents were working overseas. The boarding house was run by the founder and headmistress, a petite old lady and strict Sabbatarian, along with a matron and her assistant.
The school grounds were not extensive and the boarders were not allowed to leave their confine. Daygirls were bribed to buy sweets, etc.
The regimented - communal lifestyle came as a real culture shock – the worst was the gradual realisation of my loss of freedom.
We were allowed out for the day on a Saturday or Sunday between 11am and 6pm, once before and once after half term. No telephone calls were permitted.
There were no showers and baths were permitted three times a week. Hair washing was only allowed once a fortnight.
Food was adequate but stodgy and it was not permitted to leave any food uneaten on the plate. I am sure I was not alone in learning to swallow food without tasting it, especially fish pie!
During the week, berets had to be worn at all times outside the school grounds. If anyone ever broke this rule, it would as often as not be reported to the headmistress by one of her neighbourhood cronies.
On Sundays the boarders wore two-piece tweed suits with brimmed felt hat with the school colours on the hatband. In the summer it was dresses, blazers and similar brimmed straw hats and always Clark’s brown lace-up shoes for outdoors.
Weekends for the boarders meant two-hour walks in crocodile after lunch when we were frequently mocked by the local lads.
When I reached my teens in the late fifties, it was decided that that my rustic edges needed a bit of polish and that it would be a good idea to remove me from my rather isolated rural setting. Hence, I was packed off to boarding school in the city.
The school counted around sixty boarders from the age of five to eighteen, most from various parts of the UK, others whose parents were working overseas. The boarding house was run by the founder and headmistress, a petite old lady and strict Sabbatarian, along with a matron and her assistant.
The school grounds were not extensive and the boarders were not allowed to leave their confine. Daygirls were bribed to buy sweets, etc.
The regimented - communal lifestyle came as a real culture shock – the worst was the gradual realisation of my loss of freedom.
We were allowed out for the day on a Saturday or Sunday between 11am and 6pm, once before and once after half term. No telephone calls were permitted.
There were no showers and baths were permitted three times a week. Hair washing was only allowed once a fortnight.
Food was adequate but stodgy and it was not permitted to leave any food uneaten on the plate. I am sure I was not alone in learning to swallow food without tasting it, especially fish pie!
During the week, berets had to be worn at all times outside the school grounds. If anyone ever broke this rule, it would as often as not be reported to the headmistress by one of her neighbourhood cronies.
On Sundays the boarders wore two-piece tweed suits with brimmed felt hat with the school colours on the hatband. In the summer it was dresses, blazers and similar brimmed straw hats and always Clark’s brown lace-up shoes for outdoors.
Weekends for the boarders meant two-hour walks in crocodile after lunch when we were frequently mocked by the local lads.
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