While I don’t really use Facebook, except for posting my blog each day, I do follow an account from my old high school. I read the newsletter and check out their posts from time to time. A photo popped up this morning showing a group of male teachers from the early 1970’s. While I recognised a few of the names, the only face I remembered was Mr Morrow.
Mr Morrow, like almost every other male at the school, fancied the French teacher. Mr Morrow was married and, as far as I know, he didn’t do anything about it. However, he was very protective of her. I was one of the pupils who was a recipient of his wrath. I don’t think he liked me very much.
He was also my geography teacher. Like almost every subject at school, I was not very good at geography and when I sat my final exams, he was expecting me to fail.
When I turned over my geography paper, I discovered that it was pretty easy and I flew through the questions, finishing well within the first hour. I waited patiently for the clock to tick over to the earliest time I could leave. Then I packed up and left.
Outside the exam room was Mr Morrow, a big malicious grin on his face.
“Too hard for you was it, Cook?” He said. Or something similar. This all happened a very long time ago, and I can’t be expected to remember something I’ve forgotten, as Joe Orton would say.
When the results came in, I had passed geography. To be fair, I only just passed, but it was a pass. I would have loved to have seen his face when he found out.
Anyway, his horrible face and shithead smile brought memories flooding back as I added my blog post to Facebook yesterday.
That was early, I spent the rest of the day divided between fixing up Mirinda’s computer – never a happy time and best if I’m left to swear at technology alone – and removing more items from walls and surfaces ahead of Harald’s painting job on Monday. I also found time to make some wild garlic soup which, while very green, turned out rather well. Though, I think I overdid the nutmeg.
While it was very tasty, it wasn’t nearly as good as dinner which we had at Matstudio. We haven’t been for ages but, given it’s our anniversary tomorrow and we’ll not be together for dinner, we thought it best to celebrate tonight.
Obviously, we took the girls. Almost as soon as we sat down, Emma headed for a table of four women and allowed them to pat and fuss over her. She was admired by all of them. It was quite odd behaviour. She’s generally very well-behaved in restaurants, sitting or lying by or under, our table.
Anyway, the meal was delicious, the wine superb and our waiter, inexperienced. We both thought it was possibly his first night, as he did things only a novice would do.
Not that it mattered. We enjoyed an excellent anniversary dinner and toasted the previous 34 years and finished the bottle, drinking to the next 34.
And, while my present to Mirinda was a ready for use computer, hers to me was one of the best cannoli I’ve ever had. She bought it from Trosa Gelato, where she went in order to avoid putting up with my computer induced stress.
