Our junior school was a hippy, seventies attempt at a 'modern educational establishment'. Mr. Leighton led the folk songs and played the guitar while we sang 'Streets Of London', 'Lily The Pink' and 'Eleanor Rigby' during Moot - our agnostic, pre-lunch version of Assembly. Our headmaster drove an orange Bond Bug. We also had two aggressive sheep living in the playground, Pascal and Triangle. Football was a competitive game and therefore frowned upon, even by the sheep, who shat all over the pitch. Is it any wonder I'm such a spasmohican fleacon?