Lessons from our boy

EADT Suffolk - - MORE MARDLING -

con­tained some colouring sheets, sum­mer T-shirts, sweets, stick­ers and some home-baked choco­late brown­ies, all care­fully wrapped for their jour­ney to north Es­sex (I know, I know, I have tried, un­suc­cess­fully, to en­tice them back over the Suf­folk bor­der).

My son re­ported the out­come when the boys un­wrapped their good­ies. First, they popped the bub­ble wrap, then they ate the Colin the Cater­pil­lar jelly sweets and then – show­ing scant in­ter­est in the new day­wear – they dis­ap­peared with the stick­ers. An hour later, Her­bie reap­peared, cov­ered head to foot in stick­ers ap­plied by his broth­ers. My hus­band asked if I would like to be cov­ered in stick­ers. I know things have been a bit weird lately but I’m not quite ready for that.

WICK­HAM MAR­KET TEACHES US A THING OR TWO ABOUT ED­U­CA­TION

Ray White­hand, who lives near Felixs­towe, sent me a copy of his slim, 38-page vol­ume, ti­tled A Vic­to­rian Place of Learn­ing; the story of Wick­ham Mar­ket Na­tional School 1841-1934.

Ray de­clares a spe­cial in­ter­est as his mum went to cook­ery classes there and his dad, a stockman, worked at the site in the 50s and 60s rear­ing a herd of beef cat­tle. Young Ray would oc­ca­sion­ally lend a hand.

He traces the his­tory of school­ing in Wick­ham Mar­ket

LEFT: Ray White­head’s book is a fas­ci­nat­ing in­sight into the ear­li­est days of ed­u­ca­tion in Suf­folk.

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