Thinking back to 1968 when I was in grade 2...Don’t blame anybody for the road you’re on.
It’s your own asphalt
It was a stinking hot summer's day and myself and another kid were milk monitors. We had to get the crate of milk that had been sitting in the sun for half an hour to deliver it to the class to help us all develop strong bones.
As it was so hot we noticed that our shoes were sticking to the tarrey melting surface of the quadrangle.
As a bit of fun we wee banging our heels into the soft tar leaving nice indentations when who should come along but Miss Phillips, the new and very scary female mistress of the school.
She had a bit of an accent (which was unusual in the white bread rural community where I grew up).
She angrily asked what we were doing and I replied that our feet were sticking to the "bitchermen".
Well she went off her tree and screamed back that it isn't "bitchermen". It's "arse-felt"!!!





