Chef

T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS,
HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE,
MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY,
WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO,
IN THIS HOME, DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT,
A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS,
NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE,
JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES,
OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES,
AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT,
CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS D… Continue

Living at Glory Farm, Wellington Close to be precise. The early morning bus ride to school. Looking forward to recess and lunch and home, there were classes I enjoyed, but then there were classes that could have been more inspirational or the teachers could have.

The freezing cold weather in winter - fog, fog and more fog - great for playing foxes and hounds with search lights at night.

Hanging out around Glory Farm, why was it that most of the time those of us living on Glory had to trek over… Continue