Back in the day, I used to walk just over five furlongs along a quiet country road, in whatever the weather threw at me, to where the school bus picked me up. It was then a four plus mile bus ride to school.
I started school when I was four and when my brother started the following year, we both walked together unaccompanied. Life was different back then.
At that time I can vaguely remember an ‘argument’ between my mother and a man. It transpired that where we lived, there was another country school and we fell just within it’s catchment area. The man was visiting to tell my mother that she HAD to send me to this school, even if it meant walking the all but three miles to get there.
So, it was half a mile to a school bus, or a walk of almost three miles.
To describe my mother as strong willed and stubborn would be an understatement, and she eventually ended up demanding that the guy walk the three miles with her to see what it would be like for a four year old.
Sensibly he backed down and I went to the school of choice.
Although we walked to and from the bus stop by ourselves, she drilled it into us to never talk to strangers……..something we rarely ever saw in that rural area anyway, only people we knew or knew of us.
I’m guessing I’d have been around the age of seven, when one day we were walking home and came across an elderly couple sitting on the side of the road having a little picnic.
We got talking and they asked the usual sort of questions like where we went to school, what were our favourite subjects etc and gave us a packet of ginger biscuits to walk home with.
Our mistake was to be still eating them when we walked into the house. I can’t remember regarding my brother, but I had my ass whacked a few times with a riding crop…….AND, I sure didn’t do it again.
A lesson learned the hard way. :) :) :)