Giving children roots and wings

Last night after supper I said that I was looking forward to going to Grandma's funeral. (I have been advised not to voice this desire to Grandma herself.) While this may seem a little premature, it is because I have not yet attended one.

Blind Uncle Len got his sendoff in his home village in Kent, but I could not be there for him as I was at school.

Ted, my other Grandfather, died and was commemorated some years before I was born so I had no choice in the matter. Here I am with her in the Rose Garden (part of Lumps Fort on the seafront) looking confused as I had only been on the planet a short time (3 months) and I wasn't used to having that few limbs.
Anyway, it was another school day and today we did School Rules. Possibly something we might have covered at the beginning of term, but there you go.
Of the 10 Rules, I vaguely remember 6 of them but added my own interpretations, not exactly carved on stone tablets. Naughty boy Oakley managed to break 5 of them before the end of class, shouting out, being silly, bullying, stealing etc. I have decided that I want to be in a girls-only class, not for the obvious reason but because all the girls are quiet and sensible and all the boys are loud and bad.
I demanded to go early to Thursday Park so I could pick acorns. This is why I spent 25 minutes eating the jam off 3 Jaffa cakes while staring at Pokémon TV.
But when we got there it was a riot of colour as Old Puddler Zak joined us for football. Ben has a skateboard and green Nazi helmet, I had a scooter: we swapped the 3 items around and had races and silliness abounding. None of us are any good on the skateboard. Ben found £1.01 but didn't tell his mum for historical reasons. Collected at least 50 acorns.