Today the postwoman brought me a lovely surprise. In the shape of a tea towel.
It’s not any old tea towel, I’ll
have you know, but one with self-portraits of all the littl’uns at young Sam’s school printed on it. My Boy (Sam’s father) has scribbled an accompanying note which reads “because I know you like ‘stuff’ like this!!”
He knows me so well. And he knows I’ll be studying each and every face for the eldest of my Little Welsh Boys, because he has added, helpfully: “There’s only one Sam!”
Indeed there is and I found him straightaway. His is the last face in the penultimate row and he has written his name in beautifully neat letters below his self-portrait. Sam's a great little artist - I've used his picture of his family
to illustrate today's blog. On the school tea towel he has chosen to draw himself with what can only be described as a toothy grin. You can tell his mum is a dentist..
There are over 160 children depicted on my tea-towel so I am assuming this must be the whole school. It’s bigger than the average tea towel. Some of the young artists are clearly from the Reception class, having managed little more than
a round(ish) face with dashes to represent eyes, nose and mouth. Others seem to be the work of slightly older pupils who have carefully drawn in their glasses, their curly hair – even their eye-lashes. Almost every face wears a
broad smile which is somehow reassuring. School must be fun, I reckon.
I have had several such presents over the years. Primary schools across the land clearly
find the production of such memorabilia a great source of fundraising. I am sure I am one of countless grandparents who have cause to be thankful for this. I still have (and use) a carrier bag tidy which has Jack’s face printed on it when he was just
about Sam’s age plus notelets and a writing pad from Hazel’s Reception class. I use the notelets very sparingly, saving them up for Very Special Correspondence and making sure I circle Hazel’s picture so that the recipient will know he /
she is highly honoured.
When my Foursome were at school I don’t remember much fundraising going on. Though, now I come to think of it, there was the
annual Sponsored Walk. Ten miles it was, through the beautiful countryside surrounding our village and always at bluebell time when, if you were lucky, you’d hear the cuckoos calling. Probably laughing at us, if the truth were only known. One year the
Sponsored Walk had to be cancelled as a result of bad weather but someone had the daft idea of getting the children to walk round and round the school playing field instead on the next fine day.
bad idea, as it turned out, for the Youngest of the Darling Daughters, who refused to give up when she should have done (and would have done, had I been accompanying her as usual) and spent the next three days off school with a bad case of sun-stroke.
“Why didn’t she say she felt ill?” said the teacher. “Well, she just wouldn’t,” was all I could say. The Youngest of the Darling Daughters never gives in.
The memories are flooding back – how could I forget about the Annual School Fete? And if you want to know all about that, and the day I had to run the Horse Shoe Pitching stall, well, you might like to head over to “The
Way We Were” page (see the menu to the left) when you’ve finished reading today’s Daily Blog. Only if you don’t have anything better to do, that is.
I need to find a good place to display my new tea towel. There’s no way I’m drying the dishes on my Little Welsh Boy’s face. Or any of his school mates, for that matter. Because they’re all special, you see. How do I know? Well,
it’s written there, in the middle of the tea towel, surrounded by all those lovely, smiley faces: “Birchgrove Primary School,” it reads, “Where every child is a star!”