Saturday, April 02, 2011

Finally At Home In My Own Bed With The Garden

I worked ferociously hard at school and just adored each Year's English texts; always one Shakespeare, one other British poet, one modern British novel and two pre-20th century novels. Year after year I read my way through the best of British literature, mostly on public transport to and from school.  I was less enamoured by Latin, Greek and French literature, but we can't all be clever dicks, now can we?  At the start of each English Lit lesson Mrs L--- would hand out our homework with a clipped commentary for the benefit of the listening class.  My persistent use of adverbs gave my first Rochester essay, she said, a "magazine" style.  The sarcasm came freely. 

I am reminded of this every month when The Garden drops through my letterbox with another article by Roy Lancaster.  Some months I manage to read as much as half his article before I throw it down in annoyance. 

I'm sorry Mrs L--- for the torture I inflicted upon you.

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