Jill Sparrow

That's a bit rough, Trogg. Hope you're soon feeling better.

My father knew some chap who had ordered a suit from John Collier, many years ago. John Collier, John Collier, the window to watch! So ran the advertisement. The suit wasn't quite the ticket. The trousers were fine but the jacket didn't 'sit' properly. One shoulder was higher than the other which made the poor chap look like a scoliosis sufferer. He did his best with it but soon tired of people looking askance at him and declaiming, "A horse, a horse. My kingdom for a horse!" For years afterwards, whenever the John Collier advert appeared on tv

If I'd stayed at The Manning any longer, I'd have needed the services of a psychiatrist! Otherwise, I think the attraction was trying to establish how people's minds work and why they do the things they do. I'm also incredibly inquisitive.

I wanted to be a psychiatrist. That's after I realised I would never be able to work on the biscuit counter in Woolworth's which was my ambition as a young child. By the time I was a teenager, they'd gone self-service. No consideration, some people.

1960/1 fourth and final year juniors. Teacher, Mr Wild. Back row: L to R: Alan Steele, Christopher Camidge, Alan Allcock, Paul Taylor, Carol Stokes, Margaret Broomhead, John Beckett*, unknown, Nicholas Clark, Paul Baylis. Third row L to R: Keith Brown, Jennifer Simons, Lorna Howard, Ivy Terry, Lyn Danby, Lesley Webster, Maria Switzenhof (spelling uncertain), Janice Sharman, unknown, Dianne Blackband, Vivian Widdowson, Audrey Denman, Peter? Second row. L to R: Mary?, Shirley Lee, Kathleen?, Susan Pollard, Kathryn North, Theresa?, Patricia Smith, Kathleen?, Ju

I now have a much more complete list of names for the two recent photos. Thanks to Jenny Lewin (nee Simons) and Lesley Allen (nee Webster) for providing many of the missing names. 1958/9 second year juniors. Teacher: Mrs Peart. Back row. L to R: unknown, Dianne Blackband, Keith Brown, Janice Sharman, Nicholas Clark, Alan Allcock, Christopher Camidge, Lesley Webster, unknown, Paul Baylis, Gillian Danby, Linda Smith. Third row. L to R: Paul?, Robert Baron, Ivy Terry, Lorna Howard, Diane Winstanley, Alan Steele, David Jepson, John Beckett*, unknown, Lyn Danby,

That has just made me think of Jean Nicholson who was a well known Nottingham historian and genealogist, now deceased. I taught Jean's two grandchildren when I was at Calverton. Jean and I were chatting about Lambley and when she discovered my family connection there, she lent me the thesis she had written on Lambley local history. Many of my relatives were mentioned in it and Revd Pearson certainly was. She had also taken many photos of the village before it changed so much.

Somewhere, I have a photo of Little Emily. Someone in the family also had a book that was presented as a Sunday school prize by the Revd Pearson. I have a photo somewhere of the inscription he wrote on the flyleaf. The distant relatives concerned lived at Burton Joyce and had a mine of information which I duly noted down, years ago now.

Is that not the place where Lord Lucan was last sighted? Is he still working as a checkout operator in Waitrose?

Them do say he were responsible for a fair few little barstewards. One was born of a distant relative of mine. Little Emily, she was known as. Apparently, she was a bit simple and used to do odd chores around the rectory. I've heard it called some things!

Much of Tesco's car park was flooded this morning. I only ever go in for cat litter as my elderly mog will not under any circumstances use litter other than Tesco's bog (no pun intended) standard product. Managed to find a space I didn't have to wade out of, miles from the entrance doors, and got wet through on the walk there and back.

My mother's family came from Lambley in the mid to very late 1800s. The only Pearson I've come across in my researches was the vicar of Holy Trinity, Lambley. I've heard a few tales about him that are a bit scurrilous for a man of the cloth, if true.

That's some snowdrift. It's moved Clovelly all the way to North Notts!

Yes, @Beekayfrom looking at Street view, that's where I thought it was. I remember The Jaguar when it was first built so that makes me feel old!

Remember the Jaguar from childhood. Paternal grandparents lived at Stapleford then. Drove past The Jaguar a few years ago on a diversion due to a road closure. It looked very run down and I've been told it now no longer exists.

The god of gates is Janus. He's a bit two-faced

I think, in the days when the nuns were teaching, they possibly tended to expect from the girls the same type of behaviour the Mother Superior expected from them during the days when they first entered religious life. That was certainly the impression my former colleague gained from her time there. Sadly, many of the girls went off the rails for a time as a reaction to it. It's good that things have changed in more recent times.

@MRS B my former colleague was slightly older than myself and so would have been at OLC around 1968 to 1973ish. Perhaps, like many of those Roman Catholic establishments, in later years the nuns were replaced by teachers who weren't in the religious life. As a result, perhaps the discipline imposed by the sisters was eased. I've known a number of people who were educated by Roman Catholic sisters and brothers. None had anything very positive to say about it. One, with whom I worked in the late 70s, was so terrified by the sight of a nun that he would cross the road to avoid her. This stemme

You mean they caned the soles of their feet? I thought it was only the pesky Japanese who did that to POWs in WW2. Many years ago, I worked with a girl who was educated at Our Lady's Convent somewhere within striking distance of West Bridgford... I think it may have been Loughborough? She said anyone who slammed a door or who didn't close it quietly would be punished by the nuns because Our Lady always closed doors silently. It's news to me that most people had doors to close during Our Lady's time

Also deceased yesterday was Michael Jayston, the Nottingham-born actor who was educated at The Becket School and had a possible claim to the record for the most canings whilst a pupil there.

I hope you gave her guide dog a biscuit.

My father absolutely loved Dad's Army. His favourite episode was the one starring Philip Madoc as the captured German submarine commander, which was also the episode where that character demands to know Pike's name, prompting Mainwaring's comment of, "Don't tell him, Pike!" It also contained the line, spoken by Madoc in a strong German accent. "I don't vant any soggy chips!". Dad would trot that one out at any opportunity. I recall going to The Futurist Cinema with my parents to see the film version of Dad's Army when it was first released.

I never wear shoes in the house, so I can well understand your problem @mary1947 There's nothing worse than catching your toes on unyielding objects like furniture. Since I also tend to walk around in the dark, I've had the problem many times!

The Dalai Lama (not to be confused with the Dalai Chulla) said, "Wherever it is possible, be kind. It is always possible." Or, as my mother used to say. Do as you would be done by.

I used to like Geoff Hamilton and also Geoffrey Smith. The latter's infectious humour and obvious love of his subject was very apparent. He bore a resemblance to George Orwell, I thought. Then there was Bob Flowerdew and his floating lettuce boxes.