Marination of a Nation

Recollections from the year of the bicentenary

Back in a time when I could still sit with my legs crossed on the floor, we were all summoned after lunch, one languid summer’s afternoon.

A post main break assembly always promised the tasty possibility of a chance to leave for home early. I pitied the children that had to wait around for a rusty old bus to ferry them to a proximity close enough to home…