In this blog Peter writes about how the subject of the condition and general state of the school were discussed at the school reunion.

And how he was delegated to inspect the school and report back to the 'gang'.

Being the first pupil input at the new experimental school, (the first in the country along with Caludon Castle, I believe), we were curious as to how the old place had fared with over 55 years of wear and tear.

As I live locally and write about this area, CV5, I was delegated by the 'gang' to have a look around and take a few photos to put on the web for other old pupils, as well as perhaps their parents or anybody else who is interested.

You cannot nowadays, just pop into a school and walk around at your own freewill.

Permission must be granted first after an initial application.

After a surprisingly short time, an invitation was sent to me to join the Headmaster, and two other old boys for a tour of the school.

On the particular day chosen for the tour it absolutely poured down all day, so no good outside shots of the school were to be had.

Instead I was able to take pictures inside the classrooms, but couldn't include any of the pupils.

The headmaster or head teacher is the title we must use nowadays, Mr. Neil Charlton, a charming and very genial man, first gave us the run down and general statistics of our old school.

Perhaps 'run down', is not a phrase I should use, as the school from the outside at least looked all of this.

We were given the latest 5 star A-C rule stats. and it seems that in the last three years, (I believe on Mr. Charletons' watch) Woodlands has shot up from 38% to a staggering 84% and still rising.

About 900 pupils attend the school and are placed in 6 different houses.

Teenage girls from Tile Hill Wood also attend the 6th form along with Woodlands 6th formers.

After we finished a delightful cup of coffee prepared by a very pleasant school secretary, we embarked on our tour of the classrooms. The rain didn't give over but we were able to shelter under the Heads' brolly.

Inside the classrooms it was a totally different scene.

I and my two associates could not believe the interest and enthusiasm that emanated from staff and pupils alike.

We said to each other, that they all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

It wasn't just in the classrooms but everywhere we went there seemed to be this air of wanting to learn as well as teach.

To us this seemed a whole new ballgame. In our day we were ordered to learn and stiff punishments awaited those who would not conform, not so here.

As with all school kids, some always misbehave and are punished for it, Woodlands being no exception.

The punishments here are nothing like ours but in spite of this they seem to work as they are manifested by the high quality of achievements.

One of our party asked to see his old house, Stringer, and we were shown around inside it.

Strangely it hadn't changed a lot since we were there except for the desks furniture, (see my photos).

From inside this house I took a picture of the new sports centre which although was constructed sympathetically with the original structure, it really stuck out and showed vividly the differences in the two structures, also the large age gap between them, 56 years.

I myself wanted a look at the engineering section and workshops, as it was here that I first learnt to operate a centre lathe and acquire a knowledge that was to help me in my apprenticeship and so earn my living for quite a few years later on.

Unbelievably that same lathe I learnt on was still in use after all these years. I was told though that its days were numbered and it was being sent to China. Now that makes a pleasant change.

Their very latest machine, of which they were very proud, was a state of the art, C.N.C Router, the workings of which although explained to me, I found very hard to understand, must be the age thing.

Lunchtime was upon us and we were invited to dine in the headmaster's office or in the staffroom, we settled for the former and tucked into a healthy packed lunch with fruit for dessert.

After performing one of his many duties, Mr. Charlton returned to join us. We told him that we had thoroughly enjoyed our morning with him and asked to convey our thanks to the staff and pupils alike for allowing us in their classrooms and working space.

We also mentioned to the head, that in spite of the school being a listed building, and not being able to have many major structural changes made, we hoped that he would get the grant which he sought.

This grant would enable our old school to join the 21st Century, and be able to have full central heating installed. Also while they are on it, a whole new set of double glazing would come in handy to keep that precious heat inside.

On that final note we all said goodbye to Mr. Charlton and wished him all the best for the future and remarked to ourselves that our old school could not be in better hands.

Peter Surtees, former pupil at Woodlands School, 1954/57.

In his latest blog Peter takes a step back in time to his school days and asks whether kids really do have it as hard these days!

Back in 1952 being just eleven years old, I left Hill Farm Junior School, and began my secondary education at The Coventry Technical School, or 'The Tec.', as it was known in those days.

If the kids of today found their changeover a little traumatic, it can't have been anywhere near as frightening as it was for us pupils at 'The Tec'.

Leaving the relative comfort of Hill Farm, and starting life at our new school was anything but pleasant.

Our teachers in primary school were usually 'Misses' smelling of lavender and Eau de Cologne, and always referred to us all by our first names.

Contrast this with 'The Tec.' where our 'Masters' smelt of stale tobacco, and always called us 'Boy', or 'You There'. It was only when we got known that our 'Masters', addressed us by our surnames.

Instead of being attired in flowered dresses, or tweedy two-piece suits (our female teachers that is), the masters at our new school, all male by the way, wore formidable looking black gowns.

On our first day, we 'Fuzzers', as first year boys were called, were lined up outside the assembly hall dressed in our new green blazers and caps, waiting to be allocated a House. There were four Houses in those days and mine happened to be Spencer.

We were then taken on the 'Grand Tour' of our new learning establishment, which happened to look like a collection of war time prison huts complete with a central coke fire (which was hardly ever lit), It wasn't until years later that I began to wonder if it really had been used to house wartime prisoners, or at the very least be used as a film set for an 'Escape Film'.

After being given time tables and sectioned off into various classes, mine being 1B, our new life at 'The Tec.' began. The part of secondary school discipline which became hard to get used to were the punishments.

Misbehave in class and you were given a report card which you kept for a week and left on the various masters desks during lessons. If you then transgressed during that time, which could be something as simple as not paying attention, talking out of turn, chewing or the slightest little infringement of the rules, you would have 'Unsatis.', marked on your card ( is this where the saying,' Having Your Card Marked', originated? )

This automatically earned you a visit to the Head, and four strokes on the buttocks or sometimes six of the best, depending on the mood of Mr. West, a.k.a 'Knocker', who was our head master.

Some masters had their own form of arbitrary punishments.

If you misbehaved in Mr Burdetts' class, you were summoned to his desk, made to bend over and receive four heavy strokes to your backside with a size 10 plimsoll.

This I can tell you was far worse than the cane as it was carried out in front of the whole class. The public humiliation was far worse than the pain.

No one dare have dirty gym kit, or even forget to bring it in Mr. Watts' P.T. class. If you did, then you were most likely made to 'Run The Gauntlet'.

Gloves or gauntlets were not used in this punishment. Worse still, plimsolls again. The whole class was formed into two columns, around thirty boys in all.

Each lad had to stand there with his gym shoe in his hand and be ready to whack you with it as you ran down the column. Not everybody managed to make contact, but those who did really hurt you.

Oh yes, anybody who didn't try hard enough to hit you such as your pals, were made to run down the line themselves, and receive the same punishment.

Oh happy days. In the woodwork class, if you didn't pay attention to the instructions Mr. Gough was giving you at the blackboard, a piece of chalk was thrown your way, followed, if you persisted, by the blackboard rubber.

In one case it was known for a wooden mallet to be thrown at a pupil.

Luckily he was able to duck in time and it missed him, but unfortunately it hit the boy behind, although by the time it made contact it had lost most of its initial force. No complaint was ever made.

The most feared time was the inspection of the article that had probably taken you weeks to make. If the tenon or dovetail joints weren't up to standard, then that lovingly crafted article of yours would be reduced to matchwood in front of your very eyes by that very same wooden mallet.

This happened frequently, but needless to say, our woodworking skills improved dramatically.

Most of us lads managed to come through these trials and tribulations quite unscathed. In spite of these punishments which incidentally didn't happen all of the time, we Cov. Tec. boys thought we were fortunate as we were gaining a good education both academically and realistically.

We endured quite a lot, and in spite of it all, we never bore any grudge to those who taught us. In fact we came to respect them, as they were trying to prepare us all for life after school. We learnt respect and discipline which we all carried on into later years.

I myself benefited as did many of my contemporaries for we regularly meet and discuss the old days at the 'Tec', and The Woodlands where we all moved to later on.

Peter Surtees previously from The Coventry Technical School, The Butts ,Coventry, classes 1B and 2B also Woodlands Comprehensive School, Broad Lane Coventry, classes 3L, 3T, 4T and 5T.

After this week's uproar regarding Lola the cat being dumped in the bin, Angie decided to blog about the other injustices involving cats.

A lot of people seem to think they are doing the rescue a favour by taking one of their animals and don't see why they should also pay for the privilege.

As a registered charity all our accounts are open on the charity commission website. We are only small, a band of 4 - 10 of us at any one time, depending on who is currently volunteering with us and last year homed about 160 cats.

Our last years accounts (still being audited) show an income to the group of just over £11,000, half of which came from homing donations.

Sounds good for a small group? Well lets see how much it cost us.

Bits and pieces - miscellaneous £22 (can't tell what this is as paperwork with auditor!), Website £45, Insurance (for fundraising) £242, stationery and postage (newsletters and receipts) £280, fundraising equipment (new tins) £100, advert in local paper £120, cat toys £160, new kitten pens £370, boarding costs £47 - a grand total of nearly £1400.

Now we come to the good bits..... Cat Food £5100, litter £1500
And finally and definitely not least VETS BILLS and Meds £11,000.

So, income £11,000 expenditure £19,000.

We are eating very quickly into a legacy we received a couple of years ago - when that goes Coventry will lose us, its only local independent Cat Rescue.

If we were to spread out the costs to each cat homed then we would need to ask for £120 per cat.

As it is, we ask for at least £40 though if we have had time to vaccinate we ask for £75 to try and recoup the cost to us as a group.

And the argument goes on, "why should we pay for the charity work, you are a charity, that's what you do".

And to this I can only state, where do you think we should get the money to do what we do?

As it is the volunteers do not claim for any expenses such as petrol (being the main one for vets visit, home visits and collecting cats).

Vets charge us full prices for our treatment, I think some people think we pay nothing for rescue animals to be treated.

Tell that to Vet!!

Now, for example, that charged us £260 on Saturday night when a kitten was rushed in collapsed - the poor thing subsequently died that night.

That brings me on to the hidden cost of rescue, the emotional and physical toll it takes out on the volunteers.

Too many cats to look after as we squeeze yet another 'emergency' in somewhere, too few homes being offered for the cats we have in and an ever increasing demand to take in cats due to all sorts of reasons.

In the meantime there is an increase in the amount of kittens being born in Coventry leading to less homes and more demand on us when these kittens cannot be sold or given away.

We are also seeing a lot more sick animals as the population increases as people are not neutering or vaccinating their pets. So that puts added stress on us when some weeks we seem to be locked in constant battles against disease and spend our time going back and forth to vets and medicating our charges.

This week we have seen a media frenzy around the events of Lola being shoved in a wheelie bin in Brays Lane.

A silly, pointless thing to have done and yes it was cruel and could have had an unhappy ending.

But the real cruelty that goes on in Coventry is far more stealth like as we overpopulate the city with these beautiful creatures.

I spoke to the manager of the RSPCA centre Sunday, they have experienced the same as us this year.

Not only more animals but also a lot more sick animals this year.

Cats protection are running a neutering campaign at the moment so please, any cats that need neutering please do them. You can phone them on 024 76251491.