Monday 1 June 1987

…I didn’t go to school today.
Nobody did.
That was because the whole school was going on a trip to Tissington
in Derbyshire to see the dressed wells.
We left in coaches at 9.30am and were there at 10.40am.
Dressed wells – hmm.
The only nice thing was the water coming out of them.
Then everybody was supposed to go on a walk, but I had a nose bleed.
I was told I had to stay with the infants and watch them on the swings.
I felt useless.
I then had to travel back on the coach with them, instead of with my own class.
One of the infants was sick.
A whole yoghurt came up.
YUUUUUUUK.
Of course my nose bleed had stopped the minute my class went off on its walk.
What an educational day out….

Although not quite as mortifying as a trip to, say, a box factory, a visit to see some wells can’t have counted as one of the highlights of the school year.

The ancient pagan tradition for dressing wells with flowers and other decorations apparently originated in Tissington. I don’t think anybody in our class, myself included, were old enough to appreciate the history and artistry on display. Clearly the infants weren’t. One of them made their feelings very clear on the return journey*.

What a day to get another nose bleed.

*No manners, but what a critic.

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