The Farm

When I was in Year 4, there was a prospect of a really bloody good school trip - a 2 and a half stay at a farm not too far from home. It was the most excitement-filled trip in my life up to then, and from what the officials said, it looked brilliant, and I could not wait. I'd never spend so much as a night away from home and it was really exciting!!!!!!!

As it got nearer and nearer the trip I got more and more excited, and all of the paperwork boredom and things like that got completed, and soon it was just a point of making sure you were there on time.

Some point very near to the trip, I started feeling crappy. But it wouldn't last long, I told myself. I would be okay by Monday, I would be fine by Monday, it would be someone else who felt rubbish by Monday. I was not going to miss the best trip of my life so far, nope, never. Of all of the trips in the world, this wasn't going to be the one to miss. It was going to be a brilliant trip, and I. Would. Be. There.

When, on Sunday evening, it became obvious that I wouldn't be going, I was really upset about it. Even my two new toy cats couldn't cheer me up. Stupid bloody illnesses.

If those are toy cats.

Monday came. I'd be going on that trip if this damned illness hadn't got me, I thought gloomily.

That day was spent feeling gloomy and rubbish and really just plain dreadful, until a little glimmer of hope shined. You see, the way we were going to go was our class plus half of another class from Monday to Wednesday lunch, when the rest of the year would go until Friday. And in my naive 8 year old mind, I genuinely believed that this was actually a viable option. 

Only it wasn't to be. Even if it was feasible, I still felt all eeuuurrrghhh. It was horrible to feel so yucky and it was horrible to miss out on what could have been the best trip ever.

The yuckiness stayed around for 3 weeks after it started, one of those weeks I was in school and had turned to tears because I'd been confronted about some work that wasn't very good (it may have been art and I never was good at art anyway). Not the happiest time of my life.

After everything was okay again I ignored my brother, Crotchet, who moaned about never having the chance of the farm visit (when he was in Year 5 the pupils who took the farm visit were changed from Year 6 students to Year 4 students) and pinned all of my hopes on having perfect health for the Year 6 France trip. Thank God that that did happen.

A Fiddle Fiasco

From Year 4 to Year 9, I had routine Violin lessons, always with the same teacher, on a Tuesday. The classes, once a good bit of fun and some extra education in Music, later became an excuse to miss half of my most hated subject - Geography. This wasn't even because I wasn't good at it, I had good marks and everything, but it was plainly not what I'd like - it had a lot more to do with people and later, economics, but I'd rather have learnt names of rivers and cities and stuff like that.

One advantage of having Violin lessons, apart from showing a bright spark in lessons while still missing as much as a quarter of them per week, was half a day out of school near the end of each school year to go to a Fiddle Fiesta (which were much more fun than being totally bored out of your skin in a stuffy classroom full of other students who would be disruptive all of the time). These tended to be good fun.

You'd be preparing for a Fiddle Fiesta for some weeks beforehand, getting all your pieces to practice, whether you were first, second, or third violin. In my first Fiddle Fiesta there were two pieces that were fourth violin, which is almost never used. I remember this because I was lazy and didn't want to do the third violin pieces. Me and B, (an old schoolmate from my Junior school who, like me, liked the Goodies, but unlike me, did not know about the Funky Gibbon) did this. But I am seriously going off track now and ought to explain about the Fiasco.

It was Year 7 that this fiasco happened. I had prepared like all of the other students across the town going to a Fiddle Fiesta. I was dead excited about missing Science and English - especially English which was almost unbearable (I realize later that this could be due to an undermining of my talents (they had me a level 4 instead of 5 like I actually was) and a low intolerance of noise (and that class was really noisy!)). I was also excited at going to a new place to do a Fiddle Fiesta - even if Moth didn't really like it that much (That just made me curious).

So it was the day of the Fiesta. I had my violin (which is an awkward thing to be lumbered with, let me tell you!) and there was some extra food in my schoolbag for eating later. I had to make sure I wasn't tempted by it at lunchtime. I ate as always before zooming off.

I zoomed off to a little area in The Quad, near to the front entrance, and milled around there energetically. Excitement brewing. All of that sort of thing.

I saw my Science teacher as I was jumping around. Without any prior experience or common sense, I felt I had to tell her about the Fiesta. So, I did.

Time went exceedingly slowly for the rest of Lunch, and then Registration, but finally, finally it was the end of registration and it was time to go to the Reception desk ready to leave, collecting our violins/violas on the way (they were kept locked in a room in the music corridor).

We waited in the reception area, sitting on the chairs and so on. Waiting, as business occurred between people and things, and a boy saying he didn't want to go. Hearing some of the business, it seemed that there was some issue up. It was something to listen to, and it did not exactly fill me with confidence. Although I had no idea what the heck was going on.

It had been a very very long time in waiting before the receptionist said to us to go back to classes. From what I can tell now, this is what happened: a parent had volunteered to take everyone to the Fiddle Fiesta. He could take us all - had permission and whatnot. Then his son backed out, and didn't want to go. So because of Protection Laws and whatnot, he now couldn't take the rest of us.

Great.

I wasn't exactly ready to go back to class. I had told my Science teacher that I'd not be there, so how could I? She'd have thought I was lying! And everyone else would stare at me for being so late. It would be so embarrassing. Was there any point of going for the last part of the lesson only?

I went and put my violin away, but I was very reluctant to go to science. I stayed in the music room, and it wasn't very long before English. I went, and got some whispers.

And that is the nearest I ever got to disruptive behavior.

Snowdon trip - Day 1

It was a Friday morning, on Enrichment day. A group of us got to school early in the morning, and gathered, with cases and things, to take with us.

We all went onto the school mini-buses, the boys in one, the girls and luggage in the other. We were about to set off, only...

...one of the mini-buses wouldn't start.

It took us a while to get moving, but eventually, we did.

There were 5 girls, including me. 2 of them were from my own band, and they were likely to go off together. The other two were from the other band, and they went off together. I was happy by myself.

We went out of our town, and on to lots of roads and motorways and stuff like that. As always, I stared out of the window and observed the scenery as it flew past. I also may have had my iPod and so I may have been listening to music as well. I know I was looking at numberplates and turning the initials into phrases.

On the way to our camping ground we stopped off at one of those motorway stations. I didn't need any kind of comfort stop, but I did appreciate the leg stretch and so on. I had brought a tenner but I didn't buy anything.

Soon we were back in the mini-bus and going on, into Wales. We were to be in the North of Wales, in a place called Snowdonia. We were going to climb Mt Snowdon. I had been to Snowdonia with my father and brother, but for some reason or another we never went up Snowdon. And I'd never been camping before. This was something to look forward to.

We arrived. The address was actually a pub, not that it mattered. We got the tents set up, and then went to do our own thing.

I sat by myself, and wrote. I wrote what happened during the day, only with a fictional character in the place of me.

People tended to be interested in my writing, and so they asked me about it. I was always happy to show them my writing, although these days I often read writings of then and wonder if I was brain-dead stupid. I think I must have been.

Anyhow, we cooked on these small stove things we had brought with us (open flames etc. weren't allowed). Once our food was cooked, we ate it, obviously (What good would there be in cooking and not eating?). We had to wash up after that, but that business was soon over, and we could do whatever we liked again.

I went to the end of the what-I-called pier (there was a lake and the end of this wooden construction type thing was over it) and sat, looking at the beauty of the lake and so on.

That is about the best summary I can make of the first day at this moment in time. I don't totally remember it all, which is a shame, really.