Jill Sparrow

Liberty bodice AND a toothy grin! Who could resist?

Oh dear Trogg. I think you need a crash course in how to charm the ladies from the Master himself. Ben, take pity on this poor lad and share your bottomless pit of knowledge with him.

I cannot recall going on any school trips whilst at The Manning. I do recall being offered the opportunity of an exchange with a French student for two weeks. I didn't relish the idea but two of our group of four, Denise Chambers..sister of Chris who is a member on this site...and another girl took advantage of the scheme. They spent two weeks in France during our term time and came back not particularly impressed. The French girls spent their 2 weeks in the UK during our 6 week summer break. This side of the arrangement wasn't exactly a rip roaring success either. The girl who s

Whichever school I had attended, be it grammar, comprehensive, bilateral or independent, I'd have hated it and whinged about it. I hated school per se. From the age of 4, I had to be dragged there every morning, kicking and screaming. If I'd been allowed to stay at home and read the encyclopedia, I'd have acquired all the knowledge I needed and been blissfully happy at the same time. The problem, for me, is that those who purport to know how education best achieves its aims, have the idea that children need to spend 6 or 7 hours a day with other children and that, for me, is a hug

My final report from primary school stated, "Jill could cover every wall in the school with her writing, poetry and stories. It's going to look very bare when she's gone."

It's a tragedy Alan Sillitoe never met you, Ben. Who knows what he might have written? You make Arthur Seaton look like a candidate for the Trappist monastery!

Good thing you weren't so tardy at finding out about girls!

I see Albert Finney has died. He was a good actor, despite sounding more like Len Fairclough in this film. Nottingham accent is not easy. It's not a musical accent like Newcastle, Birmingham or Cornwall and it's defeated many a thespian!

There was also a 13 plus for those who showed aptitude and had either failed or never sat their 11 plus.

Female ginger cats can be very feisty indeed. Males are usually placid and very affectionate. Mine certainly is.

I remember the sandbox at Berridge. Remember the smell! The smell of clay and the plastic aprons we had to wear. Hated it. All I wanted was books. Liked playing in the pretend post office. It had a real Bakelite phone. Otherwise, it was a drag and I hated it. Much preferred to be at home where life was more stimulating.

No, WW, it was next to Hyson Green Library. Now gone. Mum did occasionally pop into the clinic off Radford Boulevard, en route to Garden Street, for a tin of National Dried Milk or the delicious concentrated orange juice.

The terrible activities that occurred at certain children's homes in Nottinghamshire are now in the public domain for all to see. That they have scarred those on the receiving end is beyond all doubt. It certainly makes you thankful for the security of a loving family and brings an awareness of how easily those of a sadistic and perverted nature can gain positions where their vile wishes can be satisfied.

My father had a saying: "It's not what you know, it's who you know. Or better still, what you know about who you know!" If you get my drift.

One of my greatest regrets too. Took it and did pass. The result was The Manning!

Chulla always said you were a Bulwell Bogger!

Sadly, Tompa, there have been other former residents of children's homes on this site who recalled similar treatment.

Actually, I was rarely allowed to have sweets as a child but I'd seen cinder toffee!

That's one place I remember passing when I was being pushed to Garden Street! There was a decaying sandstone wall around the place and it looked, to my infant eyes, exactly like the honeycombed middle of a Crunchie Bar. Always wanted to go and take a bite out of it!

My memories of infancy are clearer than recent ones. I remember being pushed in my coachbuilt pram to see relatives in Garden Street or along Gregory Boulevard to the bowling green on the forest where mum would sit chatting to other mums with children while they did their knitting. I remember, vividly, waking one dark night and seeing the full moon very low in the sky outside my parents' bedroom window. I could see it through the bars of my cot and was so frightened I began to scream! Dad went down to the kitchen and made some warm milk for me after which he explained that it was only the mo

I'm definitely going to give this a miss! https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-wales-47159652

After all, there may still be a few deserving females in some obscure, deprived corner of this planet who aren't acquainted with our Ben!

And there you have it...the key to a happy life!

Welcome Billy. Like me at The Manning, you clearly had a very unpleasant time at Mellish. There seem to be quite a lot of former Mellish pupils on this site. Far more than Manning. Perhaps that's because institutions across the land don't consider our old girls fit to release back into society as yet. I escaped years ago while they were whitewashing my cell...

Come to Maggie's...and get your heart broken!