32. I’m never gonna stop the rain by complainin’
“How do you do, Mehmet?”
“Very well thank you, Mrs Jellywoman.”
“How do you do, Ololade?”
“Very well thank you, Mrs Jellywoman.”
“How do you do, George?”
“My leg hurts.”
16. And you’ve been caught.
“Now, King Rat, you come in when you hear Rat-Trap.” I say. King Rat looks confused.
“You know, by the Boomtown Rats.” King Rat shrugs and shakes his head. Youthfully.
“The Boomtown Rats. As in I Don’t Like Mondays?” Nope.
“Bob Geldof?” I try. Bingo. I can see the mists clearing. King Rat smiles.
“You mean Peaches’ Dad!” he says.
I raise my eyebrows and look at him with withering disbelief.
14. And I’m doing … very well.
“I’ve finished, Mrs Jellywoman.”
I scoot across the ICT room to see Chiyedza’s work. Although she only started using the computers a couple of months ago, she has made a jolly good job of the picture which will end up on the front of her Christmas card. She chose the angel outline; then added colours with the Fill tool. Her cherub has a dashing green dress and is winging its way through a purple sky. Like Chiyedza, it has gorgeous mahogany brown skin.
“That’s beautiful,” I tell her. “Let me show you how to use the Spray tool. You could use it to add tinsel, perhaps, or stars, or snow.”
Job done, I scoot over to help Ezra. His Father Christmas has a yellow face and blue hair, so all good children this year will have their presents delivered by Marge Simpson. That beard is fooling no-one, Marge – don’t flutter your eyelashes at me.
13. The stars in the bright sky
“I’ve made you a present, Mrs Jellywoman. Can I put it under the tree?”
I’ve gone into halo production with a queue of Reception children in enormous white t-shirts, white tights and black plimsolls (the footwear of choice in the angel community) waiting to be beatified, ready for that afternoon’s Nativity play. Owen – already dressed to give the world his Second Innkeeper – has appeared at my elbow holding two toothpaste boxes glued together at right-angles.
“Well, thank you Owen. What is it?” He looks a little disappointed that I’ve had to ask, but patiently answers, “It’s a cross.”
“Of course it is. Silly me.”
“It’s for when you die,” he adds, earnestly. He carefully opens the flap of one of the boxes. “Your body goes in there.”
“How thoughtful,” I laugh. “Yes – of course you can put it under the tree. I promise I won’t use it till Christmas.”
8. Shakes and drugs and rock n roll
Imagine. Young Mildred is rising five and about to start big school. You’re pretty confident about this parenting lark now; and anyway even Marks’s won’t take her back this late in the day.
You’ve tidied up for the pre-school visit, just stuffing the last bit of junk into young Mildred’s bedroom when the bell goes. She peers shyly from behind your legs as you open the door.
“Look, Mildred,” you say cheerily, “it’s your new teacher, Mrs …?”
“Jellywoman,” I chirp. “And this is my Nursery Nurse, Miss Sugarsprinkles. I’m sorry, we’re a trifle early.”
7. At the going down of the sun…
In our school hall, we have a plaque with the names of the old boys who were killed in World War One. Just an initial and a surname. So I have been working with Year Six to find out from census and military records who were these young men.
5. Sigh
So, last day of the half-term holidays.
One of my favourite Peanuts story lines is when Charlie Brown has been set the holiday assignment of reading and reviewing Gulliver’s Travels. He spends the week procrastinating, sits down towards the end of the holidays, opens up the book and says ‘Good Grief, this book has 522 pages’. In the next frame, he’s closing the book saying ‘I’ll start it tomorrow.’
1. Today we have naming of blogs.
“I need a name for my blog,” I say to ActorLaddie, as he stirs the soup. “I want something that reflects the subject but doesn’t sound too morose.”
“How about ‘I’ve got Parkinson’s LOL’ ?”
The Jelly Chronicles 