100 Naked Words — Day 7
Reflections, Ripples and Ramblings of a Restless Mind
Of Broken Noses, Basil and Bickering
Age seven was when I recall life starting. The memories are far more sharp from then on. I don’t pretend to remember everything, but certain moments stand out. Like when I was eleven and my English teacher told my parents mischievously that she’d adopt me if they didn’t want me, or when we got stopped at Australian customs because one of our suitcases had a flower garland from Thailand still in it.
Seven was the year I got accepted into the Haberdashers’ Aske’s School — better known as HABS, I spent eleven pretty happy years there, it has defined so much of my life, guided so much of it. I remember riding on my bike near the house as my dad ran up the hill yelling out something along the lines of “HE GOT IN!” I’m hoping that was just exuberance on his part not incredulousness!
Basil (Flashman) was the headmaster, he was quirky, I remember getting my history exercise book back after it had been marked, and written on the front cover in red scrawl was Fri — end. I swear on my life, I only twigged much later on in life that he was trying to teach me how to spell. I remember his bald head, and that he was a great educator. He remained an educator all his life, setting up his own school down the line, my nieces were taught by him at similarly tender ages. He passed recently and though I never saw him again, I still remember.
One summer I decided to skateboard down the two hills that led to my house. Not a great idea. I reached the bottom full pelt, skateboard met the lip of the garage entrance and stopped firmly. I didn’t. I spent the summer roaming around the house with buck teeth, a pug lip and a broken nose, my sister had a field day.
Speaking of my sister, once she came down with scarlet fever and I was so jealous that she got to stay home and watch TV in bed that I said I felt ill too. I got into that bed and really wished I hadn’t. It was a rough couple of weeks, one thing that is seared into my memory is the sensation of waking up at some point and not being able to open my eyes, I thought I was blind — and all because I wanted to bunk off school.
I’ve mentioned I come from a large extended family. Several of my cousins stayed with us, looked after by my folks even as their parents worked all over the world. Aunts would alternate, taking turns to come to London and give my mum a hand.
My dad would smoke cigars in the living room, no-one gave it a second thought. Could you imagine that today? It took him forever to stop smoking, (and even though I used to bug him to stop I became a smoker myself).
At Christmas my cousins and I would play (cheat at) Monopoly — everyone wanted the orange and blue streets, nine times out of ten whoever had those would end up on top, Trivial Pursuit was harder to cheat at, and harder generally, but we learned a lot from whiling away our time with those little wedges in those days. We’d jump around, watch Superman, Indiana Jones and whatever else was on the telly. We’d tumble, we’d bicker, we’d sulk (some of us would cry), but it never lasted long.
Speaking of the telly, I remember we got pretty good programming in BBC Basic, making tunes and colourful screens (now why did I never keep that going…), and once I decided I wanted a bigger screen so decided to plug it randomly into the TV. Bye-bye TV, computer, and I’m pretty sure my hearing for awhile given the scolding I received.
We used to go to Kenya a lot, all the cousins spending our summers on safari, or by the pool at my uncle’s place in Mombasa. I remember the heat, the sauna. The rain. I could write for days about those days.
One morning, I had the bright idea to wake my cousin up by sticking a lolly pop stick in his ear. I pierced the eardrum then hid under the table for hours crying. I’m not sure I’ve ever really said sorry. I was.
Those were exciting times for a young lad with the world at his doorstep.
Innocent times. If only they’d lasted longer.
About me: Citizen of the World. I love writing, photography, travelling, reading, learning and growing. Medium is another journey in my life, let’s see what sights we may see.
