Mauron to Me…Momo to Others…

Just about a week ago I received a random comment on one of my blogs from 2016.

Usually the few lines are badly written by an illiterate computer and swiftly disposed of by me.

This one was different.  It was from a school friend who told me she’d been reading and enjoying my Boomering blog for a year.

My initial response was,

“What took you so long to write?”

I didn’t get an answer to that question but I did get a succinct few lines to catch me up on the last…

…46 years!

I could say memories came flooding back but since I’d just finished digitizing all the old photos rescued from my parents’ closets and cardboard boxes I had already walked down memory lane which included my 6 difficult years at boarding school away from home.

Had she waited until next year  to reach out we’d have missed each other during my upcoming visit to the smoke at the first of 2020.

But she didn’t wait and it’s turned into much, much more than a coincidence don’t you think?

So, true to form, this Vivyun-Chonk (as I referred to myself at the latter end of my schooldays)

dug through some photographs (there weren’t many as we didn’t have the technology of selfies and digital photography back then)

to make my school bestie smile.

The old manor house that was The Convent of Jesus & Mary,

Known to us as Thornton.


Us with Moya (sans hat) posing in the Mary Grotto underneath a cedar of Lebanon, in the extensive grounds of our boarding school.


It was after Easter because we were in summer uniform; a shapeless, zip up the front, grey striped dress generously draped by an oversized sweater or cardigan to complete the un-flattering look.

A classic straw boater tilted low on my forehead, topped off the drab ensemble.

On closer inspection I think I’m wearing an old summer uniform dress, grey and white gingham, which was marginally more flattering when not hidden by the baggy jumper.  I think we hiked the dresses to as short as we felt we could get away with during the height (forgive the pun) of the mini-skirt era, 1972.

We’re looking more feminine now in our, off-to-the-ball-dresses.


It was the first and maybe even the last dance we were allowed to attend at the nearby boys’ school, Stowe.  We must’ve been sixteen going on seventeen  because I don’t think the two girls flanking us, Colleen & Caroline, stayed on for Sixth Form.

We thought ourselves very glamorous, Colleen wore her glasses, you and I chose to go blind for vanity’s sake (I still have that ring) and Caro was just perfect!

Lastly my all time favorite photo of us,


I am wearing my gold bangles given to me for each “O” level I passed.  Look as those legs and that glam smile while you stared very dreamily off into the middle distance looking sultry and beguiling!

Just as you ran up to pose for that photo you said,

“Don’t say anything about my eye-brows, I didn’t have time to pluck them…”  Haha!!

We were about to dance in the Hall of the Mountain King, one of our last performances of the Operetta, Orpheus in the Underworld, 1971.

The picture was probably taken by my father during the interval, on one of his only visits to my school in the 6 years I was there.


Can it really have been 46 years?!

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2019-12-04 22:41:40 Reply

Nice to re-connect! Can’t wait to meet her!

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