For the past 6 months I’ve been busier ‘actually trying’ than in any other part of my life to date. Kindergarten was really just a lot of fun, the work was painfully easy and the almost excessive awarding of red ticks and gold stars, I think, contributed to my tendency to resign later on in the course of my education when my grades began to slip. This didn’t happen immediately though and I continued to maintain a high standard and hold onto my spot in the top set until my common entrance exams, through which I gained a place at a proper old fashioned English boarding school.
I can’t remember whether it was being away from my parents for the first time in my life or the prospect of plentiful beatings and buggery, but for the first 24 hours I did very little other than lock myself away in the loo and wonder if my parents loved me after all. The high ceilings, long corridors and single glazed windows made the house cold and foreboding; centuries of names were carved into oak panels lining the walls, memories of old boys lost in The Great War wandered the boards like the lost souls of a Wilfred Owen poem, and the History of a thousand lives begun seeped and groaned from every dormitory as though their legacies remained.
Before long I had changed through necessity from a dependent yet outgoing child into a brash and independent boy; I was subjected to more beatings than most of my year in house, I recall one Saturday night being made to stay in by one of the top year because he’d been gated and wanted some amusement. Subsequently he tied me to a radiator and proceeded to rhythmically bash my head into it for the best part of an hour; the bumps became Rugby injuries of course and I gained some respect for keeping my mouth shut. Although this may sound a little psychotic, and actually looking back it really does, the frequent run ins I had in my first year went a long way into building a character in which today, after several years of adolescent experimentation, I feel truly comfortable.
I can’t, however, credit the “snooker balls in pillow fights” or “radiator bashing” for my newly found application to progress entirely; the years of deviance must count for something. The good friends, the bad friends, the best friends and the worst friends; the alcohol and the cigarettes, lads holidays and stupid bets. Doner kebabs, washboard abs, several diseases, although never crabs. Joy ridden cars, countless bars, plenty of fights and seeing stars. I always used to think the phrase “It’s just a phase” was riddled with condescension, as anyone going through the phase naturally would. However I also think that as long as you come out the other side stronger, wiser and more informed, that for some of us at least it’s important to go through it in order to learn a great deal about ourselves, that perhaps we don’t like, but can use to shape the future in a positive way, however small.
So it is with excitement that I look to the unknown ahead, not fear or apprehension; and I would like to share a poem with you that my oldest friend chose for his Grandfather’s funeral. A man who truly lived life to the fullest, left no stone of opportunity unturned, and whose dedication to those around him and zest for life was as infectious as it was admirable.
To laugh often and much
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty;
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty;
to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child,
a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier
because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Ingredients: (Serves 6) – Cooked by my little sister Alice
¾ of a pack of short crust pastry
4 large leeks, chopped
8 mini leeks, chopped
3 large onions, sliced
½ pint double cream
4 egg yolks
3 slices of gruyere cheese
½ pack of extra mature cheddar, grated
1 sheet of baking paper the large than the quiche dish
1 bag of rice for blind baking
Method:
1. Roll out pastry and press it into a shallow baking dish, put the baking paper on top of the pastry and pour in the rice. Bake blind for 15 minutes at 220°C.
2. Whilst the pastry is baking fry the onions and leeks until softened and slightly browned.
3. Mix the egg yolks, cream and cheddar together in a bowl.
4. Take the pastry out of the oven and carefully pour the rice back into it’s bag when it’s cold enough. Layer onions on pastry base, then the slices of gruyere cheese, then add the onions and leeks, and finally pour the egg/cream/cheddar mixture over bake at 180° for 25-30 minutes.
5. Take it out of the leave to cool and then serve with some salad.
