Another birthday!

Happy Birthday Bro!

Hope you have a good one. You know I will revel in the next 4 months and 1 day as it is that special time of year when you are only one year younger than me! (Remember how I used to hate it when you were only one year younger 'cos you used to say things like "You can't boss me around now"? Well strangely enough, now I LOVE it!)

As you requested ScubaSis...

I'm afraid I don't have many photos of me when I was little as they are all at Mum and Dad's house (shame!). However, I do have these because last Christmas The Boss celebrated his 21st anniversary of working at our school and as a lovely treat we put up pictures of what we looked like 21 years ago (needless to say we exaggerated slightly so he could appreciate fully just how long ago that was!) so I have these two scanned in. I'm not really sure how old I am in them but the first one was while we still lived in Weston-Super-Mare so I must be 4 or 5 whereas the second one was taken in Bournemouth, perhaps in year 3?

And Robin, if you're reading, it was Dad who chopped you off the photos, not me although I'm quite glad as you would outcute me hands down!

Not a lot...

Well I've not been up to much except for working. I can't believe it is only two weeks since half term, my "life on the ocean wave" seems like months ago. I have been living by seat of my pants this week as we have been awaiting the delivery of the Christmas play and I was getting decidedly panicky when it hadn't arrived by friday lunchtime (4 weeks to go to get it ready to perform). Thankfully it came on Friday and so we can finally get started.

In other news, today I bought the amiable guinea pigs some new quarters. A slight downgrade size-wise but otherwise fairly swanky I think you'll agree! Also they stand more of a chance of having it cleaned more regularly as I can actually lift this one without dislocating my shoulders!

Just for you Abi (again!)

Well you said you thought that the previous picture of you was horrible so I thought you might prefer this one. Don't worry, it's just between you and me (and my hundreds of adoring fans who read this blog!)

Better?

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you...

Happy Birthday dear ABIGAIL...

Happy Birthday to you.

This is your own, dedicated blog entry, you lovely pre-teen! I can't believe you are 12 already! More to the point I can't believe it is 12 years since Robin and I stayed up all night watching episodes of "Drop the Dead Donkey" and he threw that alarm clock at my nose! You have got a lot to answer for you know. I hope you have a lovely day.
Speak to you soon Angel-Pie! xx

p.s. tried to get you a Costa Coffee gift voucher so you could have a birthday frescato on me but, would you believe, they don't sell them!

An unusual end to the weekend

Well, it's not every weekend that an elderly "comedian" ridicules you publicly in a place of worship. My lovely new cardy will not be seeing the light of day for a few weeks until I have put the trauma behind me. For those of you who were not lucky enough to have ring side seats for this happy event , let me explain.

Tommy Cannon (as in Cannon and Ball) was at church last night, talking about how he became a Christian and stuff but decided that anyone who so much as moved in the audience would get commented on. The music group had been playing at the beginning of the service and I had got really warm cos I was nervous but once I had been sitting for a while listening to the "comedy" I got a bit chilly and went to put my cardigan on. That was my first mistake. I then had to endure Mr Cannon asking me if I was leaving (I would have loved to actually at that point but felt it would be rude. If only I had know rudeness was the order of the day!) and then just went on and on and on for what felt like 5 minutes about my cardigan and stuff which was REALLY embarrassing. And not in a "oh good I'm getting lots of attention" embarrassing way but in a crippling "please stop talking about me and thinking about me and making other people look at me and think about me" way. It was so awful.

Anyway it got me thinking about this whole "celebrity" thing and how annoying it is that as soon as people become famous their opinion on everything is suddenly really important. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to listen to Michael Schumacher discuss the pros and cons of traction control and to Anthony Hopkins' thoughts on the state of the British Film making because that's their field of expertise but should they be given the same platform to talk about stuff they don't really know that much about? Hmm. And again don't get me wrong because I know that there are famous people out there who do a great job: they are knowledgeable about world issues and they use their fame to highlight issues that may not otherwise reach such a wide audience. I'm waffling but I suppose what I really mean is...What was so wrong with my cardigan and shouldn't I be allowed to wear it in peace, without fear of persecution?!

p.s. apart from that I had a lovely weekend full of fireworks and yummy food. Thanks everyone!

Nativity Nightmares

I have been inspired by some of the comments on my previous post to reminisce over Christmas Productions past. It's amazing how many funny things happen and you think you've forgotten them but they're all stored away there somewhere. Fortunately for me, as I was always the narrator when I was at school, none of them actually involve me directly but since I became a teacher the mistakes have strangely flowed thick and fast from the children. Hmm.

Ok, coming up first...
1. Imagine our school hall as a piece of A4 paper, lying landscape before you. On the left hand corner, furthest away from you is the piano, where I was sitting. and to the right of that would be the stage. During one infant production, the main characters were all on the stage in a sort of Nativity tableau. You know the kind of thing; baby Jesus at the front, Mary and Joseph looking down at him adoringly, then a random assortment of shepherds in dressing gowns and wise men with jewelled crowns made from Quality Street wrappers kneeling up behind them... Anyhoo, they were all singing a twee little song (grr) which I was accompanying when I noticed a slight disturbance coming from the back of the stage. Because of my location (to one side of the performers, rather than in front like the other teachers) I could see what no one else could see. That one of the Wise Men had, rather unwisely it has to be said, leant back and found only a curtain behind him instead of the pillar he was expecting and had tumbled off the stage backwards. Imagine my dilemma. I was the only person who knew this had happened (Year 2 children are only worried about themselves really, so none of his colleagues had noticed) and I was in the middle of playing a song. Furthermore, all that was now visible of the unwise man were his feet sticking up in the air (there not being actually much room behind the stage he was sort of folded up like a small, rather rotund yet beautifully bejewelled deck chair!) which was incredibly funny. Now, in my years of teaching I have learnt that parents do not generally like to see teachers laughing at their children when they are in mortal danger so I had to try not to laugh. I sort of managed that but the concentration I was using to not laugh had to come from somewhere. It came from the reserve I was using to play the ridiculously twee little carol. Those of you who know me well might be surprised to learn that in some circles I am considered to be a highly profficient pianist (I know! It's all relative of course) so fortunately, the bum notes I hit drew the attention of another teacher and I was able to draw her attention to the kingly pair of Clarks shoes only just visible in the gap between Shepherd 3 and Wise man 2. She in turn signalled to a teaching assistant who hoiked him back to his feet and everything was fine (except perhaps my reputation as an infallible pianist)

2. Don't worry this one is shorter and certainly not the first time it has happened in a Christmas play, but the first time it has happened to me. One of the children playing a main part was recapping on the story so far and informed the audience that the baby had been given gift of gold, FRANKENSTEIN and myrrh.

3. Last year, Mary's dad (don't ask, it was a fairly modern version of the traditional story) raised a glass to the baby Jesus in which he was supposed to say "To the best little lad in the world" but instead said "to the best looking lad in the world!" This was the same production where Mary, obviously tired and overwhelmed by the pressures of a new baby at the tender age of 10 and a half, picked up the baby Jesus by his little plastic head. Oh, and while everyone else was barefoot to add a degree of realism, she refused to take her socks off.

Roll on 21st December when I'll be safe for another year!

p.s. anyone know why blogger won't let me upload pictures at the moment? Answers on a postcard...