Brookside School, Street

Here we have a lovely picture of "Mini Henry" who was bought for me at Christmas by my sister-in-law Maria. I think you will find that the resemblance is quite uncanny. Who of though, I am not quite sure...

This bright crisp morning found me heading back to Street, near Glastonbury for a return visit, for a third year running, to Brookside School. The major change from my previous visits was that they had booked me for a full day instead of my usual half day there.

I arrived smack on time and was shown through to the hall again. As usual at this lovely school, my welcome from the staff and teachers was warm and genuine. We had a great group today, about 60 in total. I have to admit that Iwas using this school as something of a guinea pig test. For a while I have been considering dropping the Breughal painting study from my Henry days, and today seemed like an opportune time to try something different. So today, during the carousel of activities at the end of the morning, instead of having one group studying a big print of the Breughal painting, we had one group designing their own coat of arms. And it went down a storm! The children loved it! So that will go in again tomorrow for my next visit.

I had to chop and change a few other aspects of the day today. We only had the main hall for the afternoon until 2.20pm, so the afternoon session for the kids consisted of the opening talk about people being hung, drawn and quartered, and then it was straight into the Jousting tournament. It was a good tourney, with the gentlemen storming to a famous victory. However, after that it was off to another classroom for the stocks session. This still went down a storm as usual, but it meant for a slightly fragmented afternoon.

I stopped in briefly at Somerton on the way home to use the bank and then this evening my lovely wife cooked a beautiful casserole and we sat and let our brains vegetate watching Celebrity Big Brother. I think I only watched it because Cleo Rocos was on it. And in the words of Barry Norman, 'and why not?'. Tomorrow, back to Trull.