When I retired I decided to do a Creative Writing course – during the day. I hadn’t realised how difficult that would be. I started one in York but after a week it folded as there were too few of us. I looked further afield and found a course at the Heart centre in Headingley – my old school and in an area I knew well from living there all my childhood. I signed up and now where once I endured lessons in needlework, we have our classes. Coffee is served in our old first year classroom, where spelling tests took place each Friday.
Headingley County Primary was a good school and I enjoyed my time there – except for the second year when the teacher terrorised us all with his iron rule backed up by a couple of wooden rulers to smack the knuckles of children whose memories failed at the wrong moment. My progress ground to a halt in that class. It froze like the outside toilets at the back of the school in winter.
Now, in the Creative Writing class it is great to be part of a supportive, friendly group with an ingenious and encouraging tutor to inspire us. And, a bonus, loos that don’t freeze. Progress!