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Pomegranate Specialist


Image by DABofTHEbrake
Life is, once again, busy guys. I have started at Sixth Form now, so homework is soon to be coming in thick and fast. I’m sorry for the lack of uploads, but time has been pretty short recently.

I have something to ask before I go into my randomness. Why has everyone stopped commenting? My latest uploads have had more views than normal, but a lot fewer comments. And its not just my photos, but it seems that everyone is having a drop in comments. This doesn’t bode well for my questions! Although, I always have Teun to make me laugh! (Check out his stream! www.flickr.com/photos/santapanter) (Whilst I’m at it, check out Peter Saunders’ Stream too! www.flickr.com/photos/petersaunders-photos/)

Right, time for a quick but of randomness and then I will go into my questions…

Grapefruit Failure.
Sterilised Plug Rifle.
YOU FORGOT TO SAY CHEESE!
Elephantitis.

Enough of that, it’s time for my questions!
1. What is your favourite fruit?
2. Supercar or tuner car?
3. What did you forget to say?
4. Best ever drifting/burnout experience?
The most intense question on the lips of all gaming, car loving people…5. Forza 5 or Gran Turismo 6?
6. What do you think of my photo? Likey or no likey?
7. Be random!

One last thing!!!! I PASSED 50,000 VIEWS ON FLICKR THE OTHER DAY! Woop.

Thanks guys for sticking with me over the last couple of years and I’m sorry for the lack of uploads recently! I hope you guys understand!

Tom

Please, please, please, like my new photography Facebook Page!!!
www.facebook.com/TPhippsPhotography

Highfield National Children’s Home, Harpenden Herts


Image by theirhistory
Part 1 of the history of my life in care at the National Children’s Home. 1965-1968
For the book "Philip: A Strange Child", visit www.theirhistory.co.uk
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The day came for leaving London. My possessions fitted into one suitcase. The main content was clothing; I was taking both play and school clothes with me. For the journey, I was dressed in my best clothes. A few model cars that I had been given for my eighth birthday, plus a few comics and the odd book took up any space that remained in the case; it would be too heavy to carry if I had put all my books in. These I would be able to have later. There was no fear of leaving. It was explained that in a month or so I would be able to have a visit, and a short time later, there would be some holidays and I might be able to come back to London for a short stay.

It was quite a walk to the station with my mother carrying the case. We were heading off just after lunch, which would give me a little while to settle in before my mother had to return. Once on the train, we had most of the compartment to ourselves. As I was going to live in the same town as my three sets of aunts and uncles, having visited them before, I knew roughly how long a journey to expect. When I had settled in at my new location, I would probably be able to go to my aunt's and uncle's for tea occasionally, as they would be living quite close. During the journey my mother told me it might be best not to tell the other children that I was going to live with, about the various schools I had attended, and possibly, it was best that I did not mention anything about where I had been during the Christmas holidays.
Eventually we arrived; it was a short ride by taxi to my new home. Having been told it was called Highfield, with all the excitement, I never noticed the sign at the front that read Children's Home and Orphanage.

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