[garinda]

Teachers are so important.

A bad one can scar you for life, a good one can change your life for ever.

I only ever had one bad teacher. He was my French master when I was 13/14. I worked hard, was never any trouble for him, but for some reason he hated me, and that's not a word I use lightly.

I was popular, and always at the centre of things, perhaps that's why he took such an irrational dislike to me. Looking back the problem was his, not mine.

I went back to Q.E.G.S a couple of years ago, to give a talk to the art students. When I went into the staffroom for a coffee, there he was. He was nice as pie, and he did remember me. I just thought he seemed sad, and I think he knew I thought of him that way.

I hope your grandson blooms under the care of his new teacher Bernie. You must be proud of him.

By the way, great post about your son Westender.