Shrinky tagged me. Bummer! Since I've never been able to resist an ambidextrous, double-jointed, VERY flexible blonde (her words, not mine), it looks like I'll have to play along.
The Rules:
1. Link to the person that tagged you (that's me!).
2. Post the rules on your blog.
3. Write six random things about you in your blog post.
4. Tag six people in your post.
5. Let each person know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
6. Let the tagger know your entry is up.
1. I am not much of a swimmer, ability moderate-to-weak, and I try to avoid swimming in the sea if I can possibly help it. Not an earth-shattering disclosure until I explain that I've nearly drowned twice. Once in a lake, at the tender age of eleven, whilst misbehaving (showing off!) on a picnic with other kids my age. The other occassion was in the sea, off 'Twin Sisters' islands 10 minutes by boat out of Singapore harbour. The first time I was rescued by the bus driver, who just happened to wake up from a doze in the parked bus, only to realise some snotty kid was having a bit of trouble staying afloat. On the second occasion, a lovely bevy of Aussie Sheila's, each endowed with magnificent buoyancy aids, jumped in and hauled me to safety whilst all the men stood on the boat, clasping chilled cans of Tiger beer close to their 'bronzy-bronzy' chests, looking on with interest. Go figure!
The young Fletch and his sister - 1947, I think.
2. My mother 'schooled' me, pre-kindergarten, to count from 1 to 100. I memorised my 'numbers' after many beatings, sobbing and snot dripping from my nose, but I was number-perfect by the time I shuffled my short pants to the school. Only to be relegated, by the nice-smelling teacher, to the B-stream on day one. Which earned another thrashing when I got home! Why? Because the teacher asked those who knew their 'numerals' to raise their hands. I didn't, because I'd never heard the word before in my life!
3. Same kindergarten, another embarrasing episode. Class was asked to talk about a parent. I told them the story of how my Dad lost his hair. Exactly the same way my Dad told it to me. His story rambled on a bit, but the gist of it was that during one of the night 'sleep-out' sessions during a particularly hot summer (everybody 'slept out' - it was an accepted practise) a cow wandered into the compound and chewed off his hair. After suffering the hoots of derision from the re-telling of that story I don't think I ever believed anything my father said to me after that!
4. I am averse to killing any living creature. Not even bugs, flies and spiders! Unless they make the mistake of ganging up on me - and then it's 'watch out'! The reason? Another youthful experience. My uncle Richard, who doted on me because they were a childless couple, lent me his BB air rifle to "go learn manly things." My friend and I came back, proud hunters, and showed off my bag of two sparrows to uncle Richard, and bragged about how I had killed them with single clean shots to the head. "Are you going to eat them?", he asked. He didn't need to amplify on his comment, because even at that young age, ten or eleven, the lesson sank home!
5. I was a keen sportsman at school. Held (probably still hold) the school record for high jump with a clearance of 6ft 1-3/4ins using the 'Scissors' technique. The 'Straddle' and the 'Fosbury Flop' hadn't been discovered at that time and lifting one's vertical body over a 6ft bar, leading leg over first swiftly followed by the trailing leg, was really quite an achievement.
6. A result of the disclosure in #5 is that I didn't achieve much at school academically. And even the few low-grade passes I did manage to squeeze out of the 'Cambridge Overseas Certificate' examination weren't recognised in the UK when I tried to submit them as proof of my educational qualifications. There is a corollary to this sad state of affairs; I've NEVER failed an examination as an adult. So there!
The Next Victims:
1. Jenera
2. Bob T Bear (esq)
3. CrazyCath
4. Cecilia
5. Jeni
6. Lee
Over to you ...
