The phone rings.  Even from Sorrento, Ma and Pa still need to keep check on us in case we do anything risky, like crossing the road or forgetting to breathe.  Conversation is made more interesting by a combination of poor line and poor ears.

“There’s something wrong with the internet here,” she shouts.  “We couldn’t get this week’s Jelly Chronicles.”

“I haven’t done one!” I yell back. “I’ve done nothing but work.”

I can hear Ma telling Pa that my computer doesn’t work.  I take a deep breath and have another go.  “I said ‘I’ve done nothing but work’.  It’s been really busy.  Can you hear me, mother?”  Click.

I suspect that Ma is really checking up on me in case I’ve shared with the world the story of her getting stuck in the lavatory on the journey down to Florence.  It would be very mean of me to do such a thing.  Besides, I don’t have the gory details yet.  Watch this space.

It is true, though, that you are due an apology, Dear Reader.   To paraphrase Dame Edna, it has been my mission since last October to bring a bit of joy and wonder to your drab and menial lives; imagining your little faces grimaced with gratitude. Last weekend, I failed.  What can I say?  I owe you one.

Towards the end of the holidays, I eulogised about the joys that a new term brings.  The fresh start.  The good resolutions.  The stationery.

What was I thinking?

For fresh start, read new children to get to know, new curriculum to be grappled with, new topics to be researched.  New planning to be invented.  New computers to be tweaked.  New assessments to be done.  New classroom to be tarted up.  New displays with Mr Headteacher’s favourite interactive questions.  What do you think is going to be put in this space? Search me.

And as for those resolutions.  Not bringing work home?  Staying up to date with marking?  Continuing to exercise and fend off the Nonsense.  The foolishness of hope over experience, is all I can say.

Mrs Berry hit the nail on the head, as always.  It takes three weeks to break a habit, she reminded me.  So in our five weeks’ holiday, we have got out of the habit of working.  It’s a horrible shock to the system.  Next time you meet a teacher, do commiserate with them on their long summer holiday.  It’s tough, you know.

Still, there is the stationery.  InfantPhenomenon sent me this link to this porn site.  Enjoy.