On Wednesday evening this week, following an interview and mentoring and then a rather wonderful run in the sunshine, my journeys took me back to my old high school to watch my sister perform in her devised GCSE Drama piece. After the performance, I insisted that Matt and I took a walk around the school grounds purely just to feed my own nostalgia. I have so many memories there, and so many more that I'm sure I could remember if only I unblocked the part of my brain which conveniently (yet sometimes annoyingly) feeds my inablity to recall certain events and experiences. My memories are for the most part really wonderful, and I realize that not many people say that about their own high school experience. Of course the awkward nature of those teenage years are heightened when you happen to be a painfully shy and timid ginger kid. Six years down later I still don't know if I was uncool or if I just thought of myself as uncool and it was more a case of 'I think therefore I am'. But nevertheless, they always told us that when you leave that school, it will always be a part of you. And in that respect I'll be saddened when Bryony leaves in three years time, because there will be no more Beethams there. But if we look at the present moment, it was really nice that evening to explore the grounds again and find that not much has changed.