The last two months of my third year at school was a wonderful time. I had been away sick for much of my first two years at school, always coming back to unfamiliar work and routines. With up to fifty children in a class back in the 1950’s, we had to be independent. In my third year at the age of seven I had far less time off school. I was much more confident and and progressing well. I had found the joys of Enid Blyton stories as Mum bought the Sunny Stories magazine every week, and I read Noddy, the Famous Five, and the Secret Seven.
It seemed that every morning when Mum raised our bedroom holland blinds at 7 am we saw a sunny blue sky and a cloud of fuchsias in the nearby hedge. Dad complained about having to mow the lawns. It was the time of the school flower show, of the school sports, and I was now old enough to play a bigger part in both activities. The gladioli bulbs bought at school were flowering brightly under our bedroom window. The scented rainbow sweet peas, also bought at school, were planted along the foot of the wire netting attached to the garden shed. The school flower show day was so exciting. We all carried big bunches of these flowers to school and made up our sand saucers and flower arrangements, then took them to the classroom where they were displayed for the judges. We enjoyed a very long playtime while the judges set to work. Later that morning the classes filed through to see who had won the coveted place awards.
Sports Day the following week was also a big event, and the tractor dragged its rotating blade around the sports field a few times over the previous weeks, to prepare the grass for the big day. after an early lunch we marched on to the school field in our school house teams with the school assembly march music blaring, then ran our various age and novelty races. Mum and Grandma came to watch, then we went home for a special afternoon tea for my birthday, with strawberries of course. We always had strawberries for my birthday.