Category Archives: Work

273. Well, since you ask me for a tale of obsessive behaviour…

“There’s a woman who comes to all ‘The Bridge’ related events dressed as Saga – leather trousers and everything.  She even has the same car!” (Sofia Helin)

Now, I adore Detective Saga Noren  as much as the next person and would love her to end the series living happily with Henrik and his ghost children – though I’m not holding my breath. But there’s fandom and then there’s weird.  Reading interviews and blogs is OK; dressing in leather trousers and following the actor who plays her, borders on the obsessive.

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272. A decade late to the party… with apologies to Dr Seuss

Gavin and Stace?!
Gavin and Stace?!
You’ve never seen Gavin and Stace?!
:-O

What’s with the disbelieving face?
I’ve never seen Gavin and Stace.
Yes, that’s the truth.
Yes, that’s for real.
Somehow the show just don’t appeal
(Doesn’t. Sorry.)

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271 Not even for ready money…

It being our wedding anniversary – since you ask, thirty five years – well, quite: not even time off for good behaviour – anyway, in view of the day, we’d decided to use the voucher for afternoon tea given to me on my last birthday by our lovely friends, the Vestibules.

We’d booked to have the tea in one of the London hotels with a view to then doing something afterwards; a play or whatever.  The hotel was on the edge of Hyde Park and the menu outside promised tea with sandwiches, cakes and ‘warm home-made scones’.

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266. Yes, we have no..

“One Roast-Chicken-Dinner-For-One,” says Mrs Jones.

“One Roast Chicken-Dinner-For-One,” says Clark-from-Sainsbury’s-telephone-ordering-service.

“Eight bananas,” says Mrs Jones. “As green as possible.”

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260. Such stuff as dreams are made on.. .

Elizabeth popped up in my dreams last night; just as Hale and Hearty, Stuff and Nonsense as she was the week I started teaching in the adjoining classroom at Thrush Woods. Middle Infants – me, and she had Tops. We bonded a couple of days into my first week, when a passing ‘what are you doing with your lot this afternoon?’ revealed a shared love of Schools’ Television.

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240. They go up diddley-up up; they go down diddley down down…

Pick us, Miss, pick us! Look how neatly we have lidded our marker pens! And see our flip-chart of ideas – a thing of beauty, too, in many colours, to which we all contributed collaboratively, working as a team…

Apart, that is, for the cow who teaches at – well, you know the one. Her anyway. Didn’t want to come on the course in the first place.  Thought ‘Schemas in the Under Sevens’ was going to be about curriculum plans and not fannying around with a load of bricks. The only thing that’s stopping her playing with a mobile phone is that they’ve not yet been invented.  We’d be better off teaching six year olds to name parts of speech, according to her.  What a dinosaur!

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239. Um…

“The thing is, before I retired, I used to rush around on a Sunday trying to get everything done.  But I’m finding now that I say ‘I’ll do this, that and the other tomorrow’ and do something else instead.  Then whatever it was never gets done.  Do you find that?”

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225. Hush a bye baby…

It is a truth almost universally acknowledged that babies are a lot more fun when you’ve had a night’s sleep.

I’m yawning here just at the thought of those hours spent rocking the buggy, singing “my old man’s a dustman” to the tune of “girl from Ipanema.”  Driving round the block in the early hours, hoping in vain that there won’t be cries as soon as the engine’s turned off.  Arriving at work on autopilot only to discover that not only is YoungLochinvar still in his child seat (forgotten to drop him off at Ma’s) but also that, in the early morning rush, I’ve failed to shut the front door (concerned neighbour, police visit).  How does anyone survive early parenthood?  Nightmare.

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221. With his head tucked underneath his arm…

“It’s Mrs Jellywoman, isn’t it?”

I am at the gym (thanks for all the helpful hints – so far, so good), face to face with a jolly woman, probably in her mid-sixties.  Though she might be ninety-eight but really, really benefiting from regular work-outs.  She does look familiar but I can’t quite place her.  I’m vaguely thinking Jacob’s nan; Jacob, whose suggestion for a word containing the ‘ee’ sound was “weed – like what you smoke.”  Maybe, maybe not…

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218. It’s now or never…

I wasn’t put to the piano as a child.  Refused the offer of lessons, apparently: as good a reason as any to invent time travel.  But I’d really like to be able to play and, to quote Bro-In-Law – a man of infinite resource and sagacity – when someone asked him why he’d just taken up learning Gypsy  Jazz Guitar, “I decided not to wait until I was younger.”

I did sort of start learning about twenty years ago but, what with teaching full-time and having two children, practice never seemed to reach the top of the To-Do list.  So the enterprise was shelved, pending retirement.  Which is Now.

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