RAMSEY AND A FIRST DAY AT SHCOOL TALE.

This isn't graffiti. It's a mural by the kids of the now defunct Albert Road Junior and Infants School. The kids are moving to a new shiny building. I'll have to photograph the old soon. This is right along Parliament Street. Maybe we have some budding artists in Ramsey? What you can see? Three iconic images of Ramsey.

On the left is Albert Tower. The centre image is Queens Pier. The right image is a tram. Show anyone on the island this and they would instantly say Ramsey. I've shown you the pier already. The trams have only just come back to town, and the Tower I will do when I can hike up there. Again the blue hoarding surrounds an empty shop that has been demolished. What will be there next who knows. I kept simple shot as you see, shadow and all.

This leads me on though to a question posted by DAVID MCMAHON, AUTHORBLOG . Can you remember your first day at school.? Oh yes I can.! A detour today into the childlike world of days before I became er, me.

Nervous a kitten clinging to my mother. Remembering the nice blonde kindly lady teacher gently but frimly coaxing me from my mother into the classroom and ushering mother out the door. Coat pegs. We all had a big black coat peg where my coat with my name written inside would be hung. Tiny chairs and tables. Being so proud I could write my name in thick black pencil and nervously holding it aloft for approval. Wondering why so many did not know how to write their own name. Frowning! Recognising Peter and Jane in the books of the same name. Smiling. Oh yes I liked this school thing.

Running round and round the playground. Eating strange bland food. Yuck! Two lots of food. pudding at lunchtime? No I don't like this school food thing. The sand pit. Oh how I loved the sandpit. Not the dolls house, the bikes,the numerous other wonderment of assorted educational toys, no not for me. Making new friends. Bullies! The boy who pushed everyone, who stole the toys. The boys who took my bucket off me. The boy whose legs I threw sand at for taking my bucket. The kindly blonde lady teacher, smelt like sweets. I told her he was naughty, she put him in the corner. I smiled. He was bad. He was punished! The good were rewarded. Oh yes I liked this school thing.

The bell. Big loud pulsating bell. Scrapping chairs. Scrambling for coats. Thanking the sweet smelling teacher with the generous smile. Spotting mom, running, talking, talking, talking. Tired. I can come back. Tomorrow! Oh yes I liked this school thing.

Written staccato like. After all It was long ago. Lengthy memories fade, but snapshots remain. It was heavenly, exciting, scary and fun. It was ordered, uncomplicated. Life is seldom like that now. The good and bad are neither punished or rewarded in equal measure. Life is not black and white now, but a muddy grey. People aren't so kindly, or sweet smelling. Strangers do not become instant friends. I still like a sandpit, it's why I've gone from city to beach. I still metaphorically throw sand at the bullies in life who pinch my proverbial bucket, but instead of a teacher now it's me who fights my battles. Welcome to the unordered, complicated, scary, fun, unfair world of adulthood. No wonder I'm nuts.