Sunday 20 January 2013

Singing in the car

I've bought one of those compilation CDs that all the music snobs look down upon. It's a Motown box set, which I shall keep in the car and play on a non-stop loop until I hate it.(I like Motown, because if I forget the words, I can be one of the backing singers instead.) It kind of made the ironing bearable this morning, anyway. Yes, I did ironing. Half the pile has been dealt with, which means I can nearly shut the ironing basket. 

I can't drive the car without music (except at busy roundabouts, where I have to turn it off in fear of crashing into something. Which is ridiculous when you think about it.) 

 
(Photo: Socialsmiling.com)

Yes, I do this, too...

We don't have the arguments about music in the car like we used to. When my children were young, it was one tape from the Early Learning Centre, usually featuring a very suspect and jolly man singing about animals. This had to be played over and over again until it mysteriously vanished one day. (It was either that or violence, I'm afraid.) This was when I found out about my then 2 year old daughter's attitude to my singing. There I was, driving and singing away to 'Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud', when she loudly shouted, 'Stop singing!!' at me. So I stopped for a bit and then carried on. She leant over as far as she could and tried to cover my mouth with her hand, crying, 'Stop singing!!!' I didn't think it was that bad, but I've had a complex about my singing ever since. I now only sing when on my own in the car. I find that it's easy to forget you're in a little box with windows, though. I was at traffic lights once, belting out 'What becomes of the broken hearted,' when I realised I was being watched by the lorry driver opposite, who was obviously trying hard not to laugh. Now I do a sort of ventriloquist act when driving through traffic. 


Music in the car has moved on from nursery rhymes and Narnia story tapes to Sons One and Two being plugged into their own ipods. That leaves me in charge of the CDs. The husband doesn't care what's playing as he doesn't really listen to it. He only tunes in when there's lots of sweary bits. (My spell-check wanted to change that to 'sweaty bits'. I assure you I never listen to sweaty music.) He'll drive for miles ignoring Lily Allen or Bowling for Soup, but then a song will come on with the word 'f**k' in it, and he'll ask, 'Is that really necessary?' like he's my father or something.

Anyway, I shall put my Motown CDs in my car, ramming them into the glove compartment, which is full of tissues, sunglasses, old parking tickets and other tat. And then I shall sing. On my own. Sob.

Saturday 19 January 2013

I can't think of any more puns on snow

Well the huge amounts of snow we were forecast have failed to materialise. School was closed for a couple of days, but we went back on Friday - just until lunchtime, as there were blizzards on the way. They're taking an awfully long time to arrive. I know our part of the country is a lot better off than some others, so if you're snowed in, grab the biscuits and stay warm. We've had just enough for the children to play in, but now the novelty's worn off, the snow has turned to ice, and people are starting to moan. We're such a load of light-weights here in England, I know. It's just that we only have a fortnight of snow a year, so we get terribly excited about it all and then everything grinds to a halt.





Open Uni-wise, I've decided the next course will be 'Myth in the Greek and Roman world'. I've heard loads of good things about it, and only one complaint - that it's too much literature and not enough history, which actually suits me fine. Mind you, I can't register for the course until March, so I may have changed my mind several times before then. I know I wanted to do 20th Century Literature, but people on that forum are using words I have to look up, and still don't understand, so I may leave that one until my brain has had a bit more of a workout. 

For Children's lit, I'm enjoying reading the first Harry Potter and Tom's Midnight Garden. I hadn't realised that TMG was set near to where I live - it mentions Ely and skating on the fen rivers in the late 1800s. The thing is, I'm enjoying the reading so much that I'm forgetting to look out for relevant quotes. I get carried away and have to go back half a dozen chapters to pick meanings apart. Actually, I think it's a great excuse to sit and watch all of the Harry Potter films again. Purely for research purposes, of course...

Wednesday 16 January 2013

Snow time like the present

I've never been more pleased to be woken early. I got a text from the Boss Lady this morning to say the roads were too icy and dangerous to open the school. 'Brilliant,' I thought, as I went back to bed, 'I can get a good load of studying done today.' So far I've emptied the biscuit tin and had too many cups of coffee. I did actually read a couple of chapters of Tom's Midnight Garden, underlining some quotes that will no doubt prove to be completely unrelated to the question. 

(Photo from: http://www.dwyfor.com)

Important study resources

For this children's literature assignment, I have to write about the importance of a sense of place, and I've got a lovely load of books to choose from. At the moment, I'm thinking of using Tom's Midnight Garden and the first Harry Potter, but it could be Swallows and Amazons or Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry, or perhaps Northern Lights. I'm spoilt for choice. Obviously, nearer the time, I won't be musing in such a laid-back fashion; I'll be in a panic about receiving scathing comments from my tutor. He seems nice, but I can picture him sighing and holding his head every time he reads my assignments. 

Likewise with creative writing. This is the only assignment I've got stuck on. Poetry. I now sympathise with those children at school who sit there and whine, 'I don't get it,' and who expect me to do the work for them. Anyone who can write me a 40-line poem on anything will be paid handsomely. I got my twee Scarlet Fever story back, with a score of 85, which I'm well happy with (sorry, I have teenagers). I would reproduce it here, but I'm afraid it would make you vomit with its sickly sweetness. 

Mmm, so, poetry. The course encourages you to keep a notebook, in which you jot down inspiring things. I have such a notebook. Since the course started in September, I've written: 'Bring lunch on Tuesday.' Maybe I should write an ode to yesterday's left-over pasta? I can't even think of topics for a poem. I'm starting to panic now. Everything I see or do, I try to imagine a poem about. Walking in the snow? Too much of a cliché. Cooking dinner? Boring and very short. I'll have another coffee and think about it. Hmmm, what rhymes with coffee...?

Monday 14 January 2013

Snow joking matter

We woke up to snow this morning. I got all excited about school being off, but then it stopped. There was just enough for me to leave the car at home (yes, you read that right, I walked) as, by the time I'd defrosted it, I could have got to school. Also, there was a pavement on the way that no-one had yet walked on, so I did the important job of leaving the first footprints. I know that sounds very childish, but I later found out that another teaching assistant, along with the school secretary, had run round and round the untouched playground for the same reason.


(photo on  1000 Awesome Things)

During a group reading session later, the children and I got to discussing footprints in the snow. (No, it had nothing to do with the book. I just get off the subject very easily. I think it's one of the reasons the children like me...) They were of the same opinion. One child said it was like marking his territory. I suppose I should just be grateful that he doesn't go around peeing up fences. Or maybe he does. Who am I to question? 

We do treat the children well at school, when there's snow about. They usually get extended breaks, to give them time to perfect the igloos and giant snowballs they've made. The only problem is when there's not enough snow. We get turf wars when they claim ownership of areas of snow and start arguing over it. We have children in tears because someone 'stole their snow', and we remember problems from past years and pray for it all to melt overnight. Also, the classroom isn't a pleasant place with steaming socks on all the radiators.

The cats hate the snow, too. They stick their heads out of the door, give me that 'yeah, right,' look, turn round and go back to bed. It's the one thing they agree on.

Anyway, we're due more snow overnight. We need about a foot of the stuff. Enough that the teaching staff can't get in from the varied places they live. Enough that I get that phone call at 7 tomorrow morning saying, 'Stay in bed.' Let me emphasise, this is not me breaking my New Year resolution and being a misery guts. This is me knowing that, not only will I get a lie-in, but there will be over a hundred happy children having fun and making snowmen. Fingers crossed....

Monday 7 January 2013

Here we go again...

Well, that's it - the holidays are over and it's time for school again tomorrow. It was staff training today, and I promise you that I didn't touch the chocolate tin in the staff room. Mainly because there were only toffees left, and I'm far too scared of my dentist to risk losing a filling. 

The Christmas decorations have all come down, thankfully. I can't wait to get rid of them after the event is over. I'd be quite happy to pack everything away on Boxing Day, but my husband won't let me. He's only just taken down the embarrassing lights from around the roof.

I'm just realising what a killjoy I'm seeming. So far on this blog, I've admitted that I only party under pressure, refuse to wear my pyjamas to school (Children in Need day) and want to pack away the tinsel at the first opportunity. I'm not a miserable cow, honestly. I can quote a Christmas picture from the class that says I'm nice and 'mack school fun'. Yes, I know, that was the picture I nearly confiscated when I saw it being passed around the classroom...Bearing that in mind, have I made any pertinent New Year's resolutions? Um...no.

 
(Photo: lolsnaps.com)


I don't think I've ever made a New Year's resolution. Which at least means I've never broken one, either. So, what could I do? I don't smoke... so I could always start. No, seriously, I have no bad habits I want to break. Drinking red wine is good for your heart once you're over a certain age, I hear. I'm not at that certain age yet, but I will be one day, so I'm getting in lots of practice (or even practise...Where's a grammar Nazi when you need one?). I tend to leave things to the last minute, as you know, but my friend tells me that working to a tight deadline crystallizes your thinking, and I'm all for that. What else? Eat healthily? Nahhhhh. 

Maybe I could stop moaning about things. I do tend to whinge: 'Brownies tonight? Ohhhhh, I really don't want to go. Why did I agree to do Brownies?' And then I go, and the girls are great and make me laugh, and I like to think I help them have a good time. 'Lunchtime philosophy club? Ohhhhh, I wish I'd never mentioned it.' And then I go, and the children amaze me and remind me how great they are, and maybe a few minds have been opened a bit. 'Start of term? Ohhhhh, the holidays were too short, I don't feel like school again.' And then I go, and remember that 99% of the children are wonderful and I've missed them an awful lot. And even the horrible ones are lovely for a few days. 

Oh, all right then. I'll stop moaning. And I really don't have anything to moan about. Not really. I love my job, and the children are brilliant, and I miss them when it's the holidays. I'm also enjoying Open University, even though I moan about that, as well. Two assignments have been handed in during these holidays, I'll have you know...and I never want to read children's poetry again. No, shut up, I liked them really. My family are brilliant, I've got nothing to moan about there, and I don't think my children hate me too much. My husband puts up with an awful lot: 'Do you mind if I enrol on another OU course for September? What? Oh, yes, it is the same price as the last one. Sorry. And I'll need a big pile of books, too...' I just hope he's not making a resolution to curb my book-buying, as I've decided to study 20th Century Literature next. 'Yes, I will need a brand new copy of "Rebecca", dear husband. I know I've already got two, but all the pages are falling out...' I hope it won't mean divorce, as I've got quite fond of him over the past 22 years, but books, come on, that's important...


Tuesday 1 January 2013

Happy New Year!

Here's hoping that hangovers have faded and you're able to start enjoying January after all the obligatory bonhomie... I did my very best to be sociable but, unluckily, Son-Number-Two was not in the best of health, so I had to leave the local shenanigans and join him at home, both of us bringing in the new year with Bridget Jones. No money exchanged hands, honestly...


(Photo: www.toutlecine.com)

"There was a young lady from Ealing..."


I really don't know why I'm so unsociable. I can't even blame it on my age as I've always been a miserable so-and-so when it comes to parties, which is a source of irritation to my husband. I've told him I'm quite happy if he wants to go and socialise without me, but he says that's not what it's all about. He wants me to be there, which is all very touching, but when I do go, he then abandons me to talk to his friends about manly things like garden fences. Don't get me wrong, I do talk to other people and sometimes quite enjoy myself when I'm forced to party, but I totally understand little children when they're asked to go somewhere and do that whiny 'Ohhhhhhhh, but I don't want to!' and have to be physically dragged out of the house.

Anyway, now I can relax and get on with things. I've sort of caught up with OU work; I just have to bash out an assignment on children's poetry and how it is/isn't nostalgic. I need a very long-winded way of saying, 'sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.' 

The Daughter made it safely back to Cornwall, by the way. After all the news-footage of train lines under water, she was starting to worry she'd never get home again, but everything was back to normal by the time she travelled. 

I hope your new year will be full of wonderful things. If you've been one of the flooded people, I hope you weren't too badly affected and have kept safe.