With nothing going on outside and little to do inside, my thoughts travel back in time to the year spent in fourth grade. My school was a small school in a small town in the middle of Holland. Grade one through three were in one school; grade four through six were in another. This one, the Barbara school, was at the end of our street, which made for a very quick trip to and from school on foot. At noon we all went home for lunch. By one thirty we were back for the rest of the school day. In front was the schoolyard with two old and large horse chestnut trees (Aesculus hippocastanum). Twice daily we played games in their shade. In spring they flowered with masses of blooms; in fall the fruits would fall. The fruit was cloaked in a spiny coat which, once opened, revealed a shiny reddish brown chestnut with a large white spot.