Ramblings of a nonagenerian (vintage 1923). Grew up in Lambeth in the 20s and 30s. Lived and worked in London during World War II. I have been attempting to do the Telegraph Cryptic Crossword since 1939! (My daughter says I *have* to write this, but I am troubled as it sounds so conceited.) I bought my first computer aged 85 and am continually frustrated by the vagaries of the technological age.
Thursday 14 November 2013
As a small child I was encouraged by my mother to recite poetry as my party piece whenever we had visitors. I don't remember being shy about this. I suppose I was a bit of a show-off. My mother could remember lots of poems from her schooldays so I thought it quite a natural thing to do. I can remember standing on a kitchen chair to do this when the ladies from the Girl Guides came at Christmas to bring us presents. At school I was often chosen to say a piece at at prayer time or at a concert. But pride comes before a fall. Mother and I were invited to tea with the ladies from the Guides. After tea we were invited in to the study to meet their Father, a somewhat formidable gentleman called the Reverend Archibald Fleming. I duly said my poem. He then asked me what I liked best at school. I said "Spelling "Oh" he said. "Spell study". To my shame I could not. I had never heard the word. Nobody I knew had a study. When it was explained to me afterwards I didn't know people had special rooms for reading and writing. An early lesson in the difference between the classes!
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