Feeling Festive

I spent the last week in Kampala trying to be festive. Eggnog at Book Club on Monday, four Secret Santa games (yes four!!) at various parties, mince pies, Christmas carols and mulled wine, all in the hottest week since August. All of these activities conducted in floaty skirts and flip flops. Whatever you do, it's hard to understand that it's Christmas.
Now I'm home and have forgotten I have ever been warm. I'm wrapped up in fleeces and blankets, unable to tear myself away from the fire. But it does feel Christmassy. As I drove back from the airport this morning, I saw the blanket of snow covering the surrounding hills.  There were even 2 reindeer in town this morning! Since when do we get so much snow here? Must dash - it's time for a mince pie and a Baileys!

Summer days, drifting away ...

Sadly and unbelievably the summer holidays are drawing to an end for me and on Saturday morning I will be heading back to Uganda. It's funny how when you are in one place for a while, it seems hard to believe that other places exist at all. Uganda is all a little fuzzy in my head at the moment, but I am sure I will be hit with the sensory overload as soon as I step off the plane on Saturday night.

Today I headed off for a final day trip with the oldies (since they are abandoning me tomorrow and buggering off to Prague for a long weekend tomorrow!) We stopped by the Lowry Centre in the morning, then went to Lyme Park for a pic-nic. Sadly there was no sign of Mr Darcy, but I heard he got older and greyer and speaks with a stutter these days! I have to say our pic-nic was the envy of many and that only my mother would think of bringing a tablecloth and matching plates. However, trumps go to me for thinking of the wine and delicious lemon meringue pie made by yours truly!

I think you're supposed to share the tablecloth with everybody Mummy dearest x

Cheers!

Yes - that's it!

Searching for Mr Darcy!

Lytham st sunset

The Lowry

In the land of dreaming spires

Here are a few photos from this weekend in Oxford, celebrating Alex's birthday!

Even the graffiti is charming and and polite in Oxford!

Now I look at the photo, I can see where I went wrong on the punting - the pole is meant to be vertical  not horizontal. Luckily we had some punting experts. And the sport of duck catching was also invented!

Lots of lovely long walks in the sunshine by the rivers and canal.

A morning jog along Port Meadow to Inspector Morse's old watering hole.

Look - we ate healthy fruit salad ALL weekend. Not a drop of bubbly or wine passed our lips and I don't know who has been starting rumours about strawberries and clotted cream, cakes, jam and clotted cream, cheese selections or Thai food!

Great commentary overheard by Christ Church College:

" .... and there are four Houses in Hogwarts - Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin." Always good to see people interested in a bit of English history and culture, isn't it!

This one's for the ladies!

The Deva Divas is an annual women's only triathlon held alongside the River Dee in Chester. You can tell an event doesn't take itself too seriously when the warm up includes a quick burst of 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' and a Mexican wave in the water, which is just aswell considering I had done no training whatsoever. I had expected the weekend catch up with an old friend to involve a lunch and a glass or 3 of wine, rather than a swim, bike and run ... but then again, maybe I should know my friends a little better than that by now!

I survived the 750 m (NOT the advertised 500 m as they couldn't find a decent entry point apparently ) in the bracing 19 degree water and swear that next time I swim in open water it will not be old lady breast stroke. At least I didn't have a Lake Victoria style panic attack - being able to see both sides of the river bank is a definite comfort for a novice open water swimmer! I LOVED the bike section, especially since I flew along on my friend's speedy racer and had a lovely flat, smooth road! As for the run - well a little jelly legged to be honest!

Overall, it's a great event, with many competitors just aiming to achieve a personal goal. Bring it on for next year ... and next time I will remember to untie my bloody shoelaces before the transition!

Getting snappy in the Lakes

Here are a few of my favourite shots from the photography course I did in Keswick last Friday. Obviously the stunning setting helps!

Two slighty different photos of Derwent Water - one in colour, one in B & W. Can't decide which I prefer!

I'm quite chuffed with this picture of Lodore Falls as the camera is in full manual mode and I used a long exposure and small depth of field. Hopefully I will remember all the technical jiggery-pokery next time I see a waterfall. I changed it into B & W afterwards as I think it looks more dramatic!

I love the detail on this foxglove. I won't explain how it appears to be on a plain white background as a magician never reveals her secrets!



Of course, that swan feather just 'happened' to be sitting on the stone on the water! I love the mixture of textures and the reflection on this photo.

I did the course with Maria from Lake District Light - highly recommended for anyone who needs a boost of inspiration or the tecnical know-how to get out of 'Auto'!

In a retro mood!

When I opened the drawer in my old bedroom on Saturday I found an old sewing kit from the '50s and some 'Lingerie Guards', which I imagine is something women used to hold their clothing up in the pre-tit-tape era.

They must have put me in a retro kind of mood, because today, amongst other things, I splashed out on a super-cute green and white candy-striped dress that puts me in mind of my old infant school summer dress (thankfully minus the straw boater with brown and yellow striped ribbon this time!) and a spotty linoleum style handbag.

I actually bought 2 bags - this one sewing inspired!

I also look forward to playing the game of Twister I picked up in a charity shop for 3 quid - all in tact, with the old design on the box. Who's in?

Boosting the UK ecomomy

I saw a report in the paper today that retail sales in the UK had plummeted in the month of May. Well fear no more. Soon, myself, as well as several other retail deprived colleagues will be heading back to Blighty on a mission to reverse the trend and boost high street spending.

I plan to spread my wealth (!?!) far and wide, as I visit friends across the country, spending in every sector of the high street. The list of 'must haves' seems to get bigger and bigger, the closer I get towards coming home. It started out as quite a modest list of new trainers, some new sports kit and a couple of pairs of sandals. Now I am looked at my sad and unfluffy towels and thinking they are ready to be ditched. My face powder is reaching an end and my mascara is getting cloggy, and I am sure I won't be able to resist throwing in the odd lip gloss or nail varnish. Every time I have to get dressed, I stare at the same old selection of worn clothes, many with the tell tale holes created from too much handwashing. I am sick of nearly all my clothes and am longing to go shopping.

Not long now - I will be home a week on Saturday - woo hoo!

What a load of c-rap!

No I do not want another rap. There is nothing I want to see less than a late middle-aged politician dripping with sweat from shaking his booty. It just makes me cringe.
What is wrong with these people? At the end of the 90s Tony Blair jumped on the 'Cool Britannia' bandwagon, inviting the likes of Oasis and Kate Moss round for tea and cake at Number Ten ... just before he completely alienated the 'yoof' demographic he was so desperate to recruit by cutting student grants and introducing university tuition fees.
Just before the UK election last May, I read an article in a magazine for young women in which David Cameron waxed lyrical about 'Florence and the Machine'. It made me want to delete the album from my i-tunes. I am not about to think that the Con-Dem government is actually OK just because I like the same band.
So please - just stop. It is embarrassing.

A little bit of appreciation for the teachers

As I typed ’Week 8’ into the school plans this week I thought this was wrong. There should be some sort of law that makes you have a half term after any 6 week non-stop teaching period. Now I can hear the moans from those in the ‘real world’ already – but hear me out. Time in teaching is like dogs years, so every week in teaching equals seven in any other job. There is very little down time in the classroom and the younger the children, the more intensive the work. This week, ‘Teacher Appreciation Day’ passed with a small recognition (let’s face it – chocolate always goes down well in a Primary staffroom) but no bells and whistles this year. To be honest, I don’t really feel the need for little prizes and bribes as my job offers me satisfaction in itself and the children show their appreciation in a thousand different ways every single day even if it rarely comes from elsewhere. I don’t work in McDonalds so am not spurred on by my name being put up in lights as Burger Flipper of the Week, nor am I five years old, desperate to be noticed as the Star of the Week!


Teaching in the UK is definitely not appreciated enough. The media, politicians and some parents use teachers as scapegoats for pretty much every ill in society from teenage pregnancies to financial irresponsibility. When I lived in London I hated telling people I was a teacher. Instead I would claim that I was responsible for putting the stripes in toothpaste, tiled swimming pools or painted double yellow lines on roads such is the lowly status of a teacher in modern Britain – somewhere between a roadsweeper and a traffic warden I should think. Thanks to the Daily Mail and its enlightened readers, you are often asked how many chairs are thrown at you on a daily basis! Plus everybody had some sort of fancy job title – nobody has a job with a name that defines the nature of the work anymore, everybody is a ‘project manager’, a ‘facilitator’, an ‘analyst’ or a ‘consultant’. So I would like to mention some of the jobs we do throughout the year.

When it comes to peace keeping, I think we could give the UN a run for their money and probably come out trumps. With twenty-five or so diverse characters in a classroom, it would be unnatural for them all to get on well all of the time. We counsel and support our students in times of need and help them find solutions to their problems on their own. We encourage mutual respect and work hard to build self-esteem. We how to spend all day, every day in each others’ company without coming to blows and come home with many friends.

We are script-writers, theatrical directors, set-builders and musicians. Every time you see an hour long school play, you are looking at hundreds of hours of teachers preparing and editing the scripts, stage managing the children, considering the acoustics and even painting the set. Not to mention crowd-controlling over a hundred excited little people. Most of us don’t have any training in this area yet we manage to pull it off year after year.

Some of us are football team manager, swimming coaches, dance teachers, general motivators.

Events management existed in teaching years before the fancy job title cropped up. Not a week goes by without us thinking about or going on a school trip or organising one of the special events that punctuate the year. And of course, it’s in our nature to put all this information in a grid and add some pretty pictures to make it look more attractive. We record everything fastidiously and have enough spreadsheets on the go to make any accountant shudder.

Cripes – that’s a lot and I haven’t even mentioned teaching yet. I’m sure there are hundreds of others but I think I have made my point. And we still have enough energy to bake cakes on a Thursday evening ready for FAT FRIDAY in the staffroom. Still, I think my favourite description of a teacher is in the Roger McGough poem where a confused Reception child tries to make sense of her first day in school:

Tea-cher. The one who makes the tea.

First Day at School

A millionbillionwillion miles from home
Waiting for the bell to go. (To go where?)

Why are they all so big, other children?

So noisy? So much at home they

Must have been born in uniform

Lived all their lives in playgrounds

Spent the years inventing games

That don't let me in. Games

That are rough, that swallow you up.



And the railings.

All around, the railings.

Are they to keep out wolves and monsters?

Things that carry off and eat children?

Things you don't take sweets from?

Perhaps they're to stop us getting out

Running away from the lessins. Lessin.

What does a lessin look like?

Sounds small and slimy.

They keep them in the glassrooms.

Whole rooms made out of glass. Imagine.



I wish I could remember my name

Mummy said it would come in useful.

Like wellies. When there's puddles.

Yellowwellies. I wish she was here.

I think my name is sewn on somewhere

Perhaps the teacher will read it for me.

Tea-cher. The one who makes the tea.



Roger McGough

International Day

“I know, let’s have a normal week. You know, one where we just teach our lessons all week and nothing exciting happens!” was the cry from the staffroom. Our school year is jam packed with special themed days to make the year more exciting for the kids. Barely a week goes past without something out of the ordinary happening. If we’re not rehearsing for a school production then it’s Literacy Week and if it’s not that then it’s Earth Day or something! This is all great, but it doesn’t half get the kids hyped up. Sure, we all enjoyed honing our mental mathematics skills on the worldwide online game for World Maths Day, but it was a bit disappointing for those who didn’t have internet at home. Athletics Day is great for a select few, but for many kids, it seemed to be an exhausting and disappointing day. And the less said about Invention Convention the better (OK I will say it ... I HATE Invention Convention – 2 weeks of clutter and confusion in the classroom, where the entire class are expected to invent something completely new and functional out of a bit of cardboard and cellotape. It can’t be much fun for the kids either, as they are told that ‘no, you can’t make a robot out of a shoebox and water bottles and expect it to work’, or, ‘no, you just stole that idea from the ‘Wallace and Gromit’ clip we just watched’).
Anyway, I digressed. This week we had my favourite school event of the year, International Day. Yes I was a little grumpy first thing in the morning as I confiscated a Fez type hat, a Masai stick for clubbing lions, a German flag and an Indian scarf … all before 9am! However, as we gathered on the field for the Parade of Nations, my spirits lifted. Children came to school in their traditional national dress or the colours of the flag, then found other children from their country. We have representatives from all over the globe. Some nations are represented more strongly than others – while the UK, India, Uganda and perhaps South Africa stood out as the biggest groups, on small boy held up the flag for Nepal alone!
Our stomachs grew bigger as the morning wore on. I was impressed that Year 4 were scheduled to go to the Asia tent first as we could get first pickings on the food! By 10am I had gorged myself on falafel, hummus, dips of curry, spring rolls, mini-pavlovas and whatever else I could lay my hands on. My hand was decorated with a henna tattoo and I tried to burn off a few of the calories with an attempt at belly dancing. So in each of the tents, we had a little ‘taste’ of the continent.
In the afternoon, we sang and danced the ‘Waving Flag’ World Cup song so many times it nearly drove us mental. The kids went home happy and energetic. The day’s success could be measured in the children’s smiles!