Wednesday, May 20, 2015

The Reports


Not a lot changes in life at the moment. I get up, I walk to the station, I get on the train, I walk to work, I work, I walk to the station, I get on the train, I walk home, I say I’m going to do the plastering but don’t, I get tea, decide its too late and do something else, I go to bed, groundhogday. I consider this when looking at my Facebook posts and the fact I’m struggling to keep up with my Blogger. And so the decision begins. As I reach the station this morning and stand at the platform waiting for the train I see things differently. Madness and insanity, I feel at home once more.

Its a busy day on the train today. Initially just me and then.

Just me and him. Is the ticket inspector about?

When I get home Alan is unhappy about my language, something is not right, but that wasn’t my fault that was the fault of something else I could not control.
The spell checker changed it from that to the other. It would not except it was clinging to the ceiling and not going up from the floor. So there you have it, I put it in right, the computer changed it, the computer insisted it knew best, I knew you'd know better, and so left it well alone. What do I know? I know what I know but the computer thing powered by windows knows better. It can't write the posts though, nope that has to be left to me so that I get the "tite" hassle, I knew I was going to get. Thanks for pointing it out though....I'm leaving it as is. Oh and by the way that B GCSE in English I have , I also have a B GCSE in geography too..........

For some reason this made me reach for those School reports, now I’d forgotten about them, all hidden away. What was it they said again?  

If anything there were two teachers I’d never forget from High School. The first being Mr Gent, the Grandmaster of teachers who could teach and make the lesson interesting. And oh course Mr Ian Grainger, the new teacher for my form class, and for two years I would say he had nightmares every morning. For his virtues he was given a mixed ramble of a class, in a building on our own. I think they call it initiation. For him it was more a lesson for him than us. For us it was out of control silliness that should have been filmed and banned. When they put this group of people together there was a chemistry that bubble, gurgitated, and on occasions exploded. It was in this from class that I meet a person with long hair, that was thin and became tall very quickly, and was cheeky as he was sinful. At this point I had no idea that all these years latter we would still knock around with each other.

I’m not sure what this report was trying to say, but Mr Grainger had a Morris Minor as a car. Then one day he did not. Then he came to work in a red BMW 3 series. We asked what had happened, and we were told a story of how the bank robbers decided to make a quick getaway in his Morris Minor and that the insurance payout had brought him a BWM. I always thought he looked like a bank robber myself.

If nothing else Mr Grainger learned within a year what I was all about, and that from now on all his other classes he would take no shit. Apparently he became a very strict teacher, that is apart from our class, that was beyond repair or retribution and we remand in our own building of warfare, fun and frolics, safely hidden away fro the rest of the pupils and members of staff. 


Of course though the peeair of resistance was my English class and the understand of what Mars bars are and how you can train monkeys to climb trees, palm tree, pineapple trees or even the tallest skyscrapers in the world, to tower all those around round. If you open your eyes you will see nothing, but close them and open your mind and you will see what no one else can see, unless you can possible imagine how to describe it to them. And even then, if your oh so very talented, they will not have a clue what it is you are on about. But of course that all depends on how high you learned to climb. 

And with that I let my mind wander for ever more wherever it want to go.


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"Nowhere Near The End Of the Rainbow"
contains information that is non-accurate, made up and in some cases just down right lies. Anything in this blogg may be based on true fiction but to help dramatise it, some items may have been embellished. Some names are made up, others are not and any that are familar to yours just are.





 Near The End Of The Rainbow

An account of something that may one day turn out to be wonderful.......