Completely and utterly stealing an idea from Gone Back South's current post. Where are our old teachers? In GBS' case, one of them turned up at her door step delivering a granchild for a party.
Not really sure what any of mine are doing these days. Actually, most of them were rather ancient nuns and have probably gone on to receive their reward with their Maker in Heaven. Since most of them were pretty OK chappesses, I say that with some fondness rather than the atheist sarcasm that was probably communicated.
Lets see, we had:-
Sister W (she might still be alive and would undoubtedly have read the Telegraph so anonymous she will remain) - Very posh, and rumoured to be from an aristocratic family. The real giveaway was that she would refer to the suit of armour in her family home from time to time. (She taught history). She also spat on the front desks a lot when talking and would politely rub it into the desk with her finger whilst apologising to the girls who were looking on, horrified.
Miss B (latin) - who might also still be alive, although one might not know it from her demeanor. She talked like you would in Latin, with the subject, object and verbs all over the place. One day we were all sniggering at her (oh, comeon - we were 15) and she rounded on one classmate with "Gillian, why, at nothing, do you burst into mirth?"
Miss Kavanagh (geography) - I know she's no longer with us, but my, what a character. She wore bright red hair in a Miss Haversham sort of beehive, was a fiercely devoted season ticket holder for Newcastle United, and made us play the sodding Geography Game every Monday, whereby she would pick a letter of the alphabet and we would all have to come up with a country, a river, a plant, an animal and god knows what else, beginning with that letter. The winner (a process of elimination) did get 50p however. Not to be sneezed at in 1979.
And then there was Ms. D History, (as opposed to D Needlework), who is still alive. As I mentioned on GBS' post, during my O level History course, - 1875 to present day, she said "Oh we won't do Mussolini - he was a nasty man", thereby eliminating about three options on our exam paper that year. Interestingly, we did in fact study Hitler? Go figure.
There are a lot more tales to tell of a Catholic convent education, which I won't bore everyone with at the moment (bedtime), but invite you to regale me with your memories.