High School: The Best Days of Our Lives?

 

Figure in jeans and grey shoes holding a backpack in front of a brick wall, with the text 'High school: the best days of our lives?'

High school days are the best days of your lives…

How often did you hear that nonsense line uttered when you were a teenager, eh?

Someone put a picture up on Facebook the other day of a staff photo from my former high school. According to the silver lettering embossed on the frame, it’s from 1999. I would have been sixteen at the time, and these were the teachers I saw every single day, week in, and week out.

I am shocked by how few of them I remember.

There are two or three I am still in touch with – friends of my parents, or parents of my friends – who I could comfortably stand in the street and make conversation with. There are probably another dozen or so who I either liked or disliked a lot, and their names are still easy enough to call up in my mind.

But then there’s the rest. A nameless mass of smiles and suits, made up of individuals who may or may not have once stood before me in a classroom and imparted their knowledge on noble gases, imperfect participles, and quadratic equations.

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Scrapbooking

One of my earliest posts on DorkyMum was about DorkySon’s love of sticking things in his scrapbook. Or doing ‘Cut Stick Glue’ as he called it.

We used to spend hours going through magazines and newspapers, cutting out pictures then pasting them into his book. It was a great way of expanding his vocabulary and talking about the things he found interesting in the world.

Unfortunately, that passion seems to have waned. He still likes making the occasional collage for people by cutting out pictures and arranging them on a piece of card or paper, but these days he’s only interested in photos of cars and trucks. The extended DorkyFamily can all look forward to getting transport and building site themed Christmas cards this year…

Anyway. I’m wondering if I should maybe carry on DorkySon’s mantle and start scrapbooking myself.

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Memories

read autumn leaf

The adorable Sarah did a great post over at Grenglish the other week about memories; asking people to consider which memories they’d keep if they had to pay for them.

It has provided a lovely opportunity to spend lots of time daydreaming, and revisiting some of the happiest times in my life. Of course, we’ve all had some horrible times in our lives too – memories that we’d quite like to take back to the shop for a refund – but there’s not much point in dwelling on those. The value of the good memories by far outweighs the value of the bad ones.
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