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Saturday, 18 July 2020
That dreaded day!
Monday's post (Don't worry, be happy) reminded me of that dramatic day when I left school and was suddenly thrust out into the big wide world.
It was the day after the end of term, and about five of us had to catch the early train to London.
I remember, as if it was yesterday, walking out through the impressive 14th C entrance 'Porta' building, above, and thinking that from here-on life was going to be very different; I was totally unprepared for it. I also remember standing and looking back at The Porta for the final time. I stood there probably for far longer than was necessary; feeling very emotional. I was leaving a well loved home for ever.
Once in London, four of us went to a small Italian restaurant near Victoria station where we regularly ate (Spaghetti Bolognese) at the beginning and end of each term. The restaurant knew us well, and made a big fuss of us at each visit. Once we had explained that this would be our final group visit, the manager offered us a free bottle of Chianti, and there was genuine sadness all round as we took our boaters from the hat rack for the final time.
I had already acquired a good job in The City, but first I left for a two week holiday before starting my serious life.
I'd had no preparation for life outside school, but fell into the rhythm of daily grind without difficulty. I've always been a disciplined person, so early rising and time-keeping came easily to me. What I didn't like was my job as a Stock Exchange 'Blue Button' (trainee broker). After receiving my first full year's bonus, I handed in my notice, ran away to Paris, and instantly felt the true feeling of freedom.
For a couple of years before Art College I had a wonderful time firstly managing a small Art Gallery in Marylebone, then running my own antiques business in Chelsea. London was 'swinging' at the time, and life was very good.
During those years between school and college, I had a terrible feeling of separation, or even divorce; of having been cast adrift. This soon changed when I found my true vocation, and my studies began in earnest.
I still find it surprising how long it really took for me to break away.
PICTURES & PLANES ..........
*I went to the cinema yesterday ..... I like this cinema. It's an
independent, three screen cinema for arthouse and mainstream films, plus
theatre and b...
1 month ago
The difference between an optimist and a pessimist, is that the optimist enjoys himself whilst waiting for the inevitable! I AM that optimist!
This is a daily, optimistic, 'photos and comments' blog. I make no judgements (only occasionally), just notes. If you wish to comment in any way at all, please feel free. Everything and everyone (except the obdurate and dictatorial) is very welcome.
I was born just south of London, but for the past 46 years I've lived in S W France. I am a painter by profession, and writer by desire. Lady Magnon and I live in an ancient cottage, in a tiny village, in perfectly tranquil countryside. We have a vegetable garden called 'Haddock's' (this may crop up from time to time), plenty of fruit trees, and a view that takes the breath away; we also have a Border Collie called Billy. I try to treat our planet with respect, and encourage others to do likewise (without preaching).
Contentment is a glass of red, a plate of charcuterie, and a slice of good country bread. Perfect!