The Home of Golf

It’s been quite a strange day.

50 years ago, I had just finished the school year at a small prep school in Salisbury. Went there two years before when Dad got posted to Southern Command. A wee Scots lad from the state system who could not understand most of what was being said to him when I first arrived. I had never heard of ‘chits’ or ‘ditty bags’ and struggled utterly to understand why the past participle of the verb ‘eat’ could or should be pronounced ‘et’ when it was spelt ‘ate’. Never been happy with ‘spelled’ either by the way. And then we had this business with the Lord’s prayer every morning when I was begging forgiveness for my debts whilst all around me were sussurating some rubbish about trespasses. Continue reading “The Home of Golf”