eight year old

            i remember my early years, from an infants school where my best subject was art

            because that was the only thing that i was good a,.i came top of the class.i moved

            in to the big school at seven and in no time i was eight,a big boy now i lived on the

            top of a steep hill, and the school was half a mile away, all on flat roads. i used to

           have free one third of a pint of milk, twice a day. it was horrible, ughhhhhhhhhhhhh.

           we were seperated from the girls by a twenty foot wall.not as thou we wanted to be

           assocciated with them. to us,girls were just sisters,nieces.not to play with us boys.

           we had good teachers, i  liked  woodwork and metalwork  geography, and  science.

           our sports ground was near, and sports day was a nightmare for me, i paid my half-

           penny to enter this 100 yard  race and i did`nt turn up for it,as i was always short of

           breath  through asthma. after school i used to go to my friend, to change comics. i

          still visit him, Ernie Patmore as he is  buried in next grave to my elder brother in the

          cemetery.strange that. Ernie,  he was three months younger than me, 16 years ago.

          .