Just as Toad wanted a motor car, so I’ve decided I should be living on a houseboat in Chelsea. I was in London over half term for a meeting of an editorial board, and afterwards, I strolled a section of the Thames Path. And suddenly there they were: all the fabulous Bohemians sunning themselves on their houseboats while everybody else huffed and puffed their lives away. I was smitten. Anyway, I will be speaking to the Chairman to see if he is happy to fund my early retirement. If I don’t turn up at Commem, you’ll know where to find me .....“Sweet Thames, run softly ‘till I end my song.”
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Pity the small group of Senior boys who, having finished a public examination, decided to sneak onto the Prep School playing fields for a kick about with a football away from the prying eyes of teachers. Sadly, they timed their illegal fun for precisely the same moment I was holding a meeting with the scary ladies in my house (which backs onto the Prep School). Out charged one of the ladies. Seldom have I seen such an exquisite blend of terror and bewilderment on the faces of the young.
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Together with some business and local government leaders, I had the opportunity to debate a few key issues of the day with four MPs last Friday. I was reminded that for every arrogant crook in the Lords or Commons, there are numerous hard working, honest, intelligent people doing their level best to make our lives better.
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I thought the Prep Sports Days were a joy. Well done to everybody involved and thank you parents for the wonderful support. I have long known there are certain events I would lose if pitted against a top Year 7 or 8 pupil, but this year I felt bound to question whether I could hold my own against the best Year 3s. We would appear to be raising a species of superhumans. Tiny people went flashing past faster than Ferraris, and somebody threw a cricket ball further than I can walk.
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There are nine governors’ subcommittees which meet every term, so if you throw in the full board meetings as well you end up with thirty governor’s meetings of some sort or other that take place over the course of a year. Last week the Finance and Property Committee (FPC) met. Not so long ago, any combination of the words Finance, Property and Committee would have compelled me to make a daisy chain, put it in my hair, sit in a wood and strum Syd Barrett songs. However, the time and expertise given freely to this School by governors is humbling, and at FPC especially it is a privilege to have input from people who help ensure this School, for all its flair and fizz, is founded upon a bedrock of prudence. I’m not going to kid you and say I could almost become an accountant, but I am intensely aware of and grateful for the wisdom and energy of others as they help take this School to greater and greater heights.
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I saw Eric Clapton and Steve Winwood over half term. In the Royal Albert Hall. Decades ago, when Clapton first started playing, people got the blues if:
a) their woman had done gone left them
b) it wasn’t for bad luck they’d have no luck at all
c) they were born under a bad sign
However, looking at the Albert Hall audience it occurred to me that the closest to the blues Eric’s current followers are likely to experience is having to settle for tiger prawns because the monkfish was off.
