The School Corridor Tatler

Watching how the drill squad is taken through their paces While I was at Chrysallis Academy, the venue for our RCL conference, I heard the drumbeat and the regular sound of marching coming from the other side of the hilly road. I stopped and waited for the drill group to appear. The drumming became louder and the marching clipped the air with its rhythmic heal beat. Then the blue column with their beige hats appeared on the hilltop.   The marching column was being taken through their paces by two trainers. The one trainer was at the back and the other more animated one ran ahead of the drill team. The members of the column kept a stoic look while they were marching. Now and then I could hear the commands barked out by the trainers. Down the road the blue column came with remarkable bearing, posture, in unison.   Even though the drill team was marching downhill, they kept their formation and stared straight ahead, as if the ground was level. When the marching column came close...

  Ukhanyo learners at the end of their devotion assembly   Hi Aunty Bella   Sorry I missed your call this afternoon. I know you have bragging rights about Storm being at "big" school now. I am sure the water in the knee wasn't so bad today because it is isn't full moon anymore and you don't have to run after all those grandchildren anymore, lol. ( don't worry, I won't tell on you). And now you can use your new smartphone that Uncle Johnny gave you for Christmas. Yes, we saw all the pics of Brad, Leah and Storm on Facebook and Whatsapp. You are really a pro now too on all these social media forms. Wasn't today a fantastic day here in our wonderful rainbow country? Did you also follow the wall-to-wall covering of the learners going back to school today? Facebook was like a reality show where all our nation's children were photographed either at home, in the classroom or outside on the school grounds. Amazing stuff hey! And what did yo...

Our prefect corps   The needlework class While I was ironing linen this morning ( and cursing this boring task), my mind drifted back to the days of our Needlework class and our teacher, Ms Roeloff. That was one lady we never messed with. In fact, we were terrified of her and her eyes that bored into you. Her petite frame belied her thunderous, firm voice and her solid gait. She reminded me of Shakspeare's lover in " My mistress's eyes are nothing like the sun.' You could not describe her well-coiffured hair as 'wires' but she definitely ' walked (thumped) on the ground'. I suppose if Shrek was around in my day, I think they would have been a perfect match.   Once we were inside the needlework classroom, you would make sure your spine is erect, your head well positioned on your shoulders and your eyes receptive to the greeting. Of course, you would already have ensured your shoes are clean and your fingernails are cut short and minus nail varnish...