Gallery Valerie

A friend of mine, Valerie Marshall, has just set up a new website. Valerie is an artist of great talent whose most recent works have combined her love of painting and drama to produce a series of original paintings inspired by the works of William Shakespeare. The good news is that she is producing a series of limited edition, high quality giclée prints which are available from her web-based gallery. The full range of prints for sale can be viewed at Gallery Valerie

Good Things Happen to Good People...

A fantastic day was had by all last Friday when my daughter, Kirsty, graduated from Newcastle University with a BA Hons in Modern Languages. These days don't come along too often so you have to make the most of them. We travelled to Gateshead on Thursday evening to give us a relaxed start to the day. The ceremony wasn't until 4pm so we did all the necessary - collected the gown, had the photos taken, had a bit of lunch and wandered around the campus to find out where our baby had been spending her time for the last four years. The ceremony was a lovely affair in the dignified surroundings of the King's Hall at the university. A strange thing about Newcastle is that you don't get to wear a mortar board - well, I ask you, what is the whole point of all that burning of the midnight oil if not to have the opportunity to wear a silly hat? Anyway, part of the award ceremony is to be 'hooded', ie some geezer called the Hooding Marshal slings the hood over your head and leaves it dangling unceremoniously around your throat, much in the style of a hangman. Strange goings on...

We had a lovely reception afterwards, with bubbly, canapes and strawberries and cream. Very nice. For our own personal celebration, we went to a Turkish restaurant and then walked down to the Quayside for a drink before bedtime. We shall live on the enjoyment of that day for some time to come...

I meant to post something about this ages ago, but forgot. Anyway it is something I am really chuffed about. My big sister, Maria, and her daughter Jeanette have been involved for a few years with a kids' project in their locality. It is called the Stockbridge Village Junior Rangers and involves working with youngsters to look after a local area of woodland and learn all about nature. Anyway, they were nominated for an Observer Ethical Award and were joint winners of the Ecover Ethical Children's Award. Maria, Jeanette and other leaders attended the award ceremony at the swanky Kensington Roof Gardens amongst such luminaries as David Attenborough. Highlight for Maria was undoubtedly the opportunity to snog Mr D'Arcy himself, Colin Firth...perhaps I exaggerate ever so slightly! Have a look at the video link to find out about the fab work of the Rangers. I am so proud of Maria and Jeanette for the hard work they put in.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/environment/video/2009/jun/03/observer-ethical-awards-kids1

Jeanette is second from left and Maria is the one next to her snuggling up to Mr D'Arcy!

Holy Week 2009

And so the cycle continues...Holy Week already. As I write, it is almost done. It never ceases to amaze me how difficult it actually is to be reflective, even for such a short time. It seems that when we have time away from our work routines, we expand the 'things to do' to fill the available time. That said, it has, in its way been a worthwhile week.

Monday was a curious day. I received a phone call last week from a cousin to inform me of the death of his father. This was very sad to hear. I barely knew my uncle. This is, sadly, so often the case in large families. But I know he was a lovely person from the distant memories I have of both him and my auntie when they used to visit my parents. We also exchanged Christmas cards each year. I am always glad (if this is the right word in this context) to be available to attend funerals. So much of life is given up to work that, as a society, we seem to be loathe to give up any time to pay respects to a life well lived. A benefit of my current 'state of flux' is that I can afford myself the luxury of time when I need it. The funeral was taking place just a few minutes from where I live so I was able to attend. Though a sad occasion, there was part of me that was excited to meet my aforementioned cousin, with whom I had had limited contact through Facebook, the infamous social networking site. As much as I can see the disadvantages of Facebook, I must say I have enjoyed a number of very positive experiences through it. On this occasion, it certainly took away that awkwardness that you can feel when you connect with family you have never met before. To round the day off nicely, I managed to tip the scales a pound lighter than the previous week at the Slimming World class. 16.5lbs, so far (she adds, smugly).

Tuesday was a day in the city with my youngest. A coffee in Starbucks, a film (Marley and Me - not my choice but it was harmless entertainment) and a bit of shopping. This was also Phil's birthday so it was out in the evening to Dine India and chocolate cake back home. We were able to share the candle blowing ceremony with Kirsty in Spain via the wonders of Skype. We even cut a symbolic slice of cake for her which Lol ate on her behalf! Still trying to get the cake crumbs out of the keyboard!

Wednesday was a more relaxing day, but the highlight was a visit from my friend and former work colleague, Julie. It was lovely to have an opportunity to catch up as it is a rare treat these days.

Thursday, Lol and I met my brother, John, in Liverpool. The weather wasn't brilliant but we did manage to take a walk along the river front and we had a pub lunch. John's daughter, Margaret, was able to join us for that which was fun!

Good Friday means the traditional Walk of Witness. Numbers do seem to have dwindled this year but I don't think the weather helped. We always finish with a light buffet lunch at St Mike's and this year we had the benefit of the lovely new church hall. I love these occasions because it is good to catch up with so many lovely people. I also did the Good Friday service at my own church at 3pm. The best treat was a phone call from Phil in Guernsey with whom we share lovely memories of toasted hot cross buns on Good Friday.

Now that I look back over Holy Week, it has been all about people, taking time to talk and enjoy their company...which just reinforces the sense that the meaning of life is all about relationship.

Happy Easter, to you and your loved ones...when it gets here!

Good grief! Is it that long since my last post?

How very remiss of me! Well, no doubt, after the last one the big question is, "How is the healthy eating plan going?" Not bad...I've shed a stone now so hopefully things will continue to move in the same direction. I've had an interview for a summer term which didn't go my way, but it was good to know that the application was successful in getting me that far. Haven't really got much in the way of news so I thought I would post this little vid for your delectation. I haven't watched the whole programme, myself, but I've heard it is a bit hit and miss (as is often the case with sketch shows). But this one really made me chuckle...enjoy!

Drastic Action...

I am (a) 46 years old, (b) overweight and (c) out of a job. None of this is good, but I am limited in terms of what I can do to change this. The date of birth is fixed - I have to accept this. Applying for a teaching post is not like going on The Apprentice. Sir Alan Sugar may be quite happy to turn a blind eye to certain details on dynamic young things' CVs, but LEAs and CRBs will have no truck with even the smallest porkies. Even if your date of birth is not a requirement, it doesn't take an Einstein to figure out that if you list your O levels which were awarded by the JMB, you are not far short of baby boomer status. Actually, this is just as well as I have not yet met any Einsteins. As for the job applications process, I have had offers from a couple of people to read through my application. One is a primary school governor who has read lots of applications over the years and the other a secondary school headteacher. I may take them up on the offer and suffer the ritual humiliation which will be bound to follow. I also got a phone call from a guy at the college where I did my PGCE, firstly to congratulate me on graduating, secondly to ask me to take part on a little survey to find out what former students were doing. I responded with almost inverse triumphalism that I was unemployed - well, call me old fashioned but, to me, a job is something you do roughly 9 to 5, 5 days per week until you or your employer decide otherwise - supply doesn't cut the mustard being just a couple of days a week (if you are lucky). Sadly this was the closest I got to dinting the armour of the mighty HE establishment. I had obviously bombed out at the first stage on the guys's flowchart and he just gave me a phone number to make an appointment for CV advice. So I might do that.

So, I can't do anything about my age, I'm doing what I can about the job situation, what about the weight problem? I have bitten the bullet and joined my local branch of Slimming World - oh! the indignity! Now I do have a little history with Slimming World. In 1999 I joined for the first time and enjoyed significant success. I lost 2 stones and felt great. Sadly I put 3 stones back on. I have waddled around since with my excess baggage, eating what I want when I want and kidding myself that I am a dress size smaller than I am in reality. I turned up at the local recreation centre and was talked through the 'eating plan' (diet is a 4-letter word!). The 'consultant' opened with, " Now, before I go through the plan with you, I want to say well done for just coming through the door, I know it's hard..." Perhaps it would have been more appropriate for me to be lowered by a crane through the ceiling? No, I'm not that big - I had a good 6 inches of clearance on either side of me as I entered through the door!

I tipped the scales at 12 st 4.5 lbs - eek! I'm only 5'3"! According to the Body Mass Index in the Slimming World books, That puts me just inside the purple zone which places my health at a significant risk. Not quite morbidly obese but definitely time for drastic action. And to ease things along I have invested in Davina's Super Body Workout (did I say 'ease'?). If I can shoehorn myself out of my armchair, I shall aim to do it 3 times a week. I am certainly not shelling out for gym membership.

I am hoping that tackling the weight problem will assist in the other two areas. I will look a bit younger and this in turn will help me get a job. I think I have uncovered an inherent ageism in primary school recruitment panels. And I wouldn't be surprised if they were fatist, too.

The Woolies Lament.

In the last week we have seen the demise of one of those great high street shops, Woolworth. In the past few months we have seen the deaths of two wonderful women from our parish church community. I was lucky to have been able to attend the requiem masses of both women to pay my last respects to them. It always amazes me how you can learn so much about people from their eulogy. I ask myself why I didn't know these things when they were alive and they could have told me themselves. So it is with the passing of Woolworth. I discovered that the first UK branch of Woolworth was on Church Street in Liverpool. This is important, why did I not know this? I have never known a shop mourned so sincerely by a nation as Woolies. I suspect that the passing of this chainstore stands as a symbol of something much bigger, the passing of a way of life.

My first job, a Saturday job between the ages of 14 and 16, was at Woolworths. Education was simpler then - most people did O levels or CSEs. The academics stayed on for A levels and possibly (though not exclusively) university. It was accepted that for some jobs, no qualifications were needed, some required a handful of O levels/CSEs, some required A levels and others required a degree/diploma. There was a role for everyone. Probably the majority got a full time job at 16 and those for whom the education system hadn't worked were enrolled on a YOP scheme, ie an opportunity to gain some work experience whilst obtaining a modest sum of money from the Government. Important to note that the YOP scheme and its successors were heavily critiqued at the time but I wonder if we really have anything better now. I remember sitting down and writing half a dozen letters, on spec, to Personnel Departments (HR) of local organisations that were 'good companies to work for' on the advice of my mum and dad. Littlewoods (mail order and pools), the Gas Board, Royal Insurance, Mersey Docks and Harbour Board and United Biscuits. Within the week, I had replies from all, most promising to keep my name on file but one invitation to interview at the Royal Insurance, where I got my first full time job.

I loved my time at the Royal Insurance. We worked in a modern building in the business end of Liverpool and we were well looked after. There was a profit-sharing scheme, cheap company mortgages after a period of eligibility and a lively sports and social dimension. We had a fab staff restaurant with good quality subsidised meals and panoramic views of the Mersey, to boot (I reckon views would be lost now, thanks to the level of building which is slowly destroying the Liverpool skyline.) We could get free flu jabs each year from our fully equipped medical suite. We even had an onsite gym overlooked by the staff bar...yes, the staff bar, open each evening with subsidised booze. But then this is before the days of binge drinking. Oh, did I forget to mention flexitime?

I may have been mad, but I took the trip across the road to Littlewoods after a year as the money was better. I spent 12 years at Littlewoods until after the 'old man' had died and 'the family' seemed more interested in carving up the inheritance than looking after the company...at least that is how it seemed at the time. The old man in question was Sir John Moores, or Mr John as he was known by his extended family of employees. Even into his dotage, he would come into the office each day, latterly in his wheelchair with the aid of his assistant. I am convinced that 'young Mr Grace' of Are you Being Served? was based on him.

Littlewoods paid for me to do a Business Studies qualification on day release. This wasn't so unusual back then. Nowadays, the Government is so busy sucking up to big business that the education system has been all but ruined in the bid to provide skills that industry needs. Back in my day, industry and business were investors in people and put their hands in their pockets to equip workers with the necessary skills to succeed in their work. Even the much applauded 'modern apprenticeship' schemes are a shadow of the real, 4-year apprenticeships which we used to have.

Aye, the times they are a changin'

Those who know me, see if you can spot me on these museum exhibits! Just click on the photo to see a bigger version.

Littlewoods Further Education Awards 1981

Littlewoods Further Education Awards 1982

Huge thanks to my good mate Jon Birch for his Woolies cartoon at the top of the post.

Happy 2009!

Blimey, its been ages since my last post. I suppose I've been waiting for something to happen but very little has happened in the last few months which is worth recording. More than anything, I'm waiting for a job. I have been working as a supply teacher since September. This has been an interesting experience. I find I am often greeted by children saying, "Are you our supply teacher?" to which I respond in the affirmative. This provokes a response, "Yisss!!" Now I would like to think this means they are looking forward to some interesting and stimulating educational activities. In reality, it means they are looking forward to high jinks with someone they probably will never see again after today. I would never have believed that children so young could be so devious. As a supply you never have the chance to develop that all important relationship with the children which enables you to develop strategies for dealing with poor behaviour. I have, however, had some delightful classes, often in schools serving areas of significant social deprivation. I have found that a strong, slightly scary head generally means well-behaved classes.

A good benefit of doing supply is that you get a chance to visit lots of schools and see which ones you would like to work in. You also get lots of ideas which you can incorporate into your own class when (if) you get it. You also see lots of things NOT to include in your own class. The worst idea so far, is not having afternoon break (I don't have a problem with no afternoon break if it means finishing 15 mins earlier) but instead having 'tuck' in the middle of the afternoon. I cannot fathom the wisdom of allowing the children to fill themselves with apparently unlimited e-numbers in the middle of lessons. Surely this just encourages spending the last hour bouncing off the walls! I can't see me going back to that particular school.

The only other thing to report from the end of 2008 is the arrival of Cleo. She is about 8 months old and is a rescue cat who came to live with us about two months ago. She is very sweet but rather mischievous. Not sure she loves me as much as she could, but that is because I am the only one in the house to impose any boundaries.

Desires for 2009? At the moment, I want more than anything to find a job, preferably a permanent post but in all likelihood a maternity leave cover to start my induction year. I crave my own class. That said, I am considering taking any job, even one outside of teaching, just to keep the wolf from the door. The credit crunch is likely to be tough for us, since his Lordship is in Sales and his wages are largely commission-based. I really need to pull my weight a bit more. My other desire is to get to 2010 relatively unscathed by the financial crisis.

This Worship Malarkey (1)

Preamble (or is that pre-ramble?):

I have been intrigued by a discussion that has been taking place over on Jonny Baker's blog about worship. I find, on my travels through the blogosphere that the is a significant amount of discontent around the whole issue of worship, though I think what we are really talking about is communal worship. I can engage up to a point with this debate, as a bog-standard worshipper ... but the debate is largely based in protestant circles, and well, I'm ... a Catholic. I am very conscious of the fact that whenever I interact with blogs my comments tend to have me saying in almost apologetic tones, "I'm a Roman Catholic". No, I'm not embarrassed about it, I have had many opportunities to jump ship, I've even had invitations to do just that, but in spite of my own personal frustrations I remain, for the time at least, at home. I'm also aware that I started this blog to share the trials and tribulations of being an average worshipper in the Catholic church and I rarely, if ever mention it here. So today, I am going to look at 'The State of Worship in the Universal Church from an Offbeat Catholic's Perspective.

Disclaimer: I ain't no scholar and these are just rambling personal opinions, many of which are in a constant state of flux anyhow. So don't expect much in the way of wisdom here, more a working through of thoughts.

Big bones of contention 1: Singing as the main focus of worship

My exploration of the Protestant denominations will largely be based upon my forays into Anglicanism as that is where most of my journeying has taken me but brief excursions into the Methodist church and free Evangelical setups have also influenced me. I remember first attending an Anglican church in 2000. I was amazed by the use of such things as electric guitars and microphones in the service. They had songs which, OK, a fair proportion of them were embarrassingly sh*te, but some of them wouldn't have sounded out of place in the pop charts. And when I listened, they were like love songs - WOW! love songs to God, now there's a novelty. These are now spoken of somewhat disparagingly as 'Jesus is my boyfriend' songs, but for someone like me who had spent all her teen years listening to soppy soul classics in her bedroom, yearning for something other than unrequited love from the spotty lad on the No. 11 bus, it seriously spoke my language. And as an added bonus, it added a more spiritual flavour to my shower repertoire of Memories (Gladys Knight) and the theme from Mahogany (Diana Ross). But it seems that the church's reliance upon the sugary worship song is beginning to wear a bit and some folk (good Anglican word) are becoming quite vocal in their desire for a change in direction, worship-wise. Charges of cosiness and lack of engagement with pain abound.

The Catholic church can be categorised into 3 main types: The real progressives who sing 'modern' folk hymns from such recent times as the 1970s, though a rogue one or two Graham Kendrick numbers may have crept in there; the traditional hymn lovers to whom the accoustic guitar is anathema and only the good ole organ will do; those who don't like any music at all. These three groups can be accommodated in most parishes by just having a mass in each of the styles. The mass is the mass, that is a non-negotiable but we can mess about with the music bit. As we can be a bit insular, we haven't yet discovered modern worship songs so haven't had the opportunity to tire of them. Perhaps I am being a little unfair - I gather there are one or two Catholic churches in the country where the modern worship genre is the way but I have yet to encounter one myself. They are the stuff of legend, like the unicorn and the Holy Grail. If there is one thing that bugs me, it's that we have some really fantastic stuff going on in our Catholic secondary schools and yet none of it filters through to the churches. And we wonder why the teens lose interest. A lot of the adults lost interest long ago but are too set in their ways to do anything about it.

The LHC all rapped up...

Could someone please explain to me what this LHC thing is?

No sooner said than done...

Huge thanks to Dadube from the Sanctuary crew for enlightening me.

Altruism back in vogue...

Most TV these days is complete dross (she says in complete sweeping generalisation). But one programme I am loving at the moment is Channel 4's The Secret Millionaire. For those who haven't seen it, the premise is that a millionaire goes undercover into some of Britain's most deprived areas and lives in the community for about 10 days. During that time they blend in, do a bit of voluntary work and seek out people/groups to be the recipients of sums of money from their own personal fortune.

What I love about the programme is that it highlights some of the fantastic work which is being done by ordinary people all over the UK for the benefit of others in the community. The programme manages to avoid becoming all about the wonderful yet patronising deeds of some rich bloke/woman. What I really love is the symbiosis that takes place. I am just as touched by the way in which the millionaire is affected by their time with others less fortunate as by the handover of a cheque. I have heard a number of the 'philanthopists' who admit to something lacking in their own lives, whether it is lack of time to spend with loved ones or a lack of a sense of belonging in their own neighbourhood (easier on a council estate than a vast estate, I suppose). Every week without fail, I cry, well not exactly cry, but my eyes overflow a bit on account of the feelgood factor.

It is fairly easy to put your hand in your pocket for a 'good cause' but the best kind of giving is based on a relationship. The fact that the millionaires have worked alongside many of those they help and formed a relationship seems to make it a much more fulfilling transaction for both parties. I would like to think that many of the millionaires gain personally from the experience and continue to be involved in their communities in some capacity or another. Whatever, it makes great TV!

Check out some of the clips here.

The family continues to grow...

On Saturday we visited my newest great-nephew (God, that makes me sound old!). Little Michael Craig was 6 days old. I even got to feed him his bottle. I'm a bit out of practice but it soon came back. This is actually a big thing for me as babies do scare me a bit. I am not the kind of woman who instantly grabs a new baby and does all the coochy-coo bit. I politely say how lovely the child is, let it practise its grasp reflex on my finger and then make my excuses to leave. That's me holding the baby with his nana, my big sis looking on.

There is something so good about being part of an expanding family. It gives me a sense of being part of something that will continue long after I'm pushing up daisies. And it is good to know that even when it seems the world is conspiring against you, there is a whole bunch of people who would gladly fight your corner for you. Since my mum died, we have been really close as a family, not that we weren't close before but it has somehow been strengthened. That is the legacy that she left us with. I feel very privileged.

GRRRR!!!!!

I am feeling in a generally disgruntled mood today. The incessant rain does not help as my mood is very much affected by the kind of weather we have. But I think the General Teaching Council (GTC) is the major cause of my being cheesed off. The GTC didn't even exist until a few years ago. It is supposed to be a professional body/register for teachers, something along the lines of the British Medical Association. In reality it is just another bureaucratic thorn in the side of teachers. I could go on about how, if you want to create a professional body you might actually pay teachers something in line with other 'professionals' instead of the equivalent of an average business graduate trainee starting salary. But that is not today's particular gripe. I was awarded 'Qualified Teacher Status' at the start of July. But to prove it, I need, not my graduation certificate as you might think, but another certificate from the GTC. These are sent out in August. Upon receipt of this, I was required to cough up £33 for membership of this Mickey Mouse body. Here's where I show myself to be a great, humungous plonker - I put the wrong bank sort code on the Direct Debit form, without which, they will not register me. D'oh! I received the letter giving me the good news this morning. It has taken them a fortnight to discover this. Why is the whole process so unwieldy? There should be enough slack in the system to even accommodate dopes like me. Now it will be another 2 weeks before I can even hope to have any work. Why does it take so long? Have they done no processing of my application at all in the past fortnight? Surely it should be a fast track process now? I am not allowed to work without this. Perhaps I should apply for any old job. I'm just being picky expecting to get a job in teaching after spending over £3000 of my own cash to train. A bit selfish of me really...

I do shudder at the chronic lack of strategic organisation in cowboy outfits like the GTC. Come the revolution, they will be the first against the wall...

Greenbelt '08 - the Rising Sun

Boo- hoo!!! Just back from Greenbelt '08. A fab time was had by all, as always. There was a significant amount of mud. Well the theme of this year's event was 'the Rising sun' so what do you expect? The Greenbelt communion service was at 3pm this year and the heavens opened right on cue. Oh, the irony!

The big memory of this year's event was the people. Having spent the year virtually connecting with a bunch of people at ASBOJesus it was great to have the opportunity meet up with a few of them at Greenbelt. Top of the list was creative genius, Jon Birch, who gave life to ASBOJesus. His blog of quirky little cartoons has grown into something of a community. I have known, for a long time (well, not that long in the grand scheme of things), that Jon has an enormous generosity of spirit, but to see him in action, the authentic enthusiasm and love for people was amazing. What a beautiful man! I was equally bowled over by the warmth and friendliness of Jon's wife Clare and good friends Sonia and Iain from the Sanctuary community in Bath. It was great to finally meet Robb and Dr Ruth who consistently contribute so much good sense and humour to the ASBO debates and Janetp who has more recently brought a new insight to the blog with her thoughtful and intelligent commenting. Caroline Too, I did enjoy meeting you - embrace your 'poshness', it's part of who you are. I was also privileged to briefly meet the ultra-cool (I am seriously not worthy) Jonny Baker, Jon's creative partner in crime with Proost. Far less scary was the introduction to Dubb aka Harry Baker. A fresh talent with a great future.

There wasn't much on the music programme which tickled my fancy but I did enjoy Emmanuel Jal. I forgot all about Daby Touré. I missed a few things that I wanted to see - damn Greenbelt programme! When are they going to come up with an online personal programme planner, which you can log into and input all of the things you want to see and the system generates a best fit before you arrive on site? I wanted to see Brian McLaren but only managed one talk which I wasn't particularly inspired by. I gave John Bell a miss this year. Best talk treat was Philip Yancey, whose books I love. I also went to Jenny Baker's talk on gender difference/similiarity with particular reference to church leadership. It was entertaining. I remember going to a workshop session on prayer which Jenny did with Pete Greig at Spring Harvest in 2002. This was a different set up, of course but she seemed a lot more feisty than I recalled from back then. Or was it just a different approach for the mainstream Spring Harvest punters? Best discovery was Pete Rollins. I went to his talk on Monday afternoon simply because I'd heard of him and there was nothing else on. I don't know how I got the impression, but I'd kind of thought of him as some cool, academic type (there is nothing I've read to reinforce this false impression). He looked about 15, and talked too fast. I figure if he had a fag in one hand and a pint of Guinness in the other, it might have stopped him playing with his hair so much. I have met pub philosophers a bit like him before but he has clearly developed the style to a fine art. I'm not altogether sure my brain had the time to process everything he said, but he said enough to stimulate my brain cells and stave off Alzheimer's for a week or so...or possibly advance it. It was a lively and entertaining performance. I sense that he is a work in progress and his ideas may be a bit more intelligible a few years down the line. I liked him.

Well, the tickets for Greenbelt 09 are already on sale. Things to do before next year:
(a) Grow a third arm - invaluable when you are trying to balance paper plate of food, paper cup of drink, bag of essential items, programme and folding stool.
(b) Contact Greenbelt organisers with a view to setting up a new venue - a tent where you can go to catch up on lost sleep. Suggested name for venue : Rest in the Spirit.

Island in the Sun....

This year, for the first time in donkey's years, we decided to take ourselves off for a fortnight in the sun. It's been a bit of a stressful year, with one thing and another and I just needed the excuse to work hard at doing naff all! So we booked ourselves a holiday in Menorca, in the quiet resort of Santo Tomas. We'd actually been to Santo Tomas before - in about 1991! There's a bit more to the resort now but it is far from overdeveloped and still peaceful. Menorca is the shy, retiring younger sister to the more extrovert Majorca and Ibiza (though I love Ibiza, too. She is not a bad girl, just misunderstood!) We spent rather more on our break than we could probably afford - our youngest being 15, we had to pay for 4 adults, whereas most of the other families were clearly taking advantage of free child places. The resort was quite expensive (the days of a 'cheap' package to Spain long since gone, bargain-hunters now flocking to Turkey in their droves) and this wasn't helped by the strength of the Euro. The hotel was pleasant and even though it was a family oriented hotel, it wasn't noisy. We just did our own thing. The hotel was right on the beach and the sea was shallow. The best bit was the evening walks along the paseo which ran along the shoreline. We saw some fabulous sunsets and it was a lovely opportunity to just talk about 'stuff'. It was horrible having to come home. I'll have to save up my pennies for next year...maybe I should think about getting a job.

WE WUZ ROBED!!! PGCE Finale.

Well the last week of the course went by in the blink of an eye. I shall miss the kiddie winkies, they made me laugh. And I even got pressies - lovely bath stuff, Ferrero Rocher and a case for my iPod! Not forgetting a lovely card - can't show a photo of it as it has a photo of all their gorgeous little faces on it. The staff were great, too. I shall particularly miss Miss J., the Teaching Assistant for my class. We made a good team and had some laughs. I was not looking forward to the final sign off, sure that my evidence would be found wanting. But it came and went without incident. As anticipated, I had no energy for celebrations and slept a lot in the ensuing few days. Even the final profiling went smoothly along with the discussions for 'Transition Point 1', stage one of the Career Entry Development Profile (CEPD) - blimey! I've only just got rid of the Profile for Professional Development (PPD). More standards, more form filling...


Last Thursday saw the long-awaited and much envisioned graduation ceremony. It has to be said, the weather was - how can I put this - crap! It peed down all day. I spent ages straightening my disobedient hair and as soon as I got out into the air, it was a mad fuzz! I am considering patenting a business idea - offering a hair straightener service at graduations at universities all around the country. Let's face it, even the 'blokes' straighten their hair these days - the same type who wax and pluck their eyebrows. In the pre-PC era I would have called them 'tarts!'


The ceremony itself was fabulous. It was held at the magnificent Anglican Cathedral in Liverpool and the pomp was well up to standard. It was mainly teachers graduating on that day - BAs and PGCE. It was a shame that so many of the Post Grads had declined to attend. Generally speaking they'd done it all before and didn't see the point of paying out for the fancy dress. I think they really missed out. My first graduation was at the Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool. Now I am very attached to that building but the cathedral is in another league. The sound of the trumpet fanfares and organ music echoing around the cathedral and the solemnity of the procession made for an electrifying ambience. Not to mention that, with the loss of my mum still fairly fresh and a previous aborted attempt at a PGCE, I personally had an awful lot of emotion tied up in the occasion. We joined the end of the procession leaving the cathedral and when we got onto the cathedral steps, the 'big wigs' had formed a 'guard of honour' on the steps and were applauding us as we came out of the door. Amazing!

We went for a lovely meal at the Jabula in the evening. Now all I need is a job but there are none at the moment. I've registered with a couple of supply agencies so I will have to wait and see what comes up. I need at least term-long placements so I can complete my induction year. I can only do 4 terms worth of supply without that. But for now, let's have a bit of a holiday!

PGCE Final placement - Week 8 of 9

Well it's a funny time. Most of my PGCE colleagues have finished their placements now and had all their files and standards signed off and I have another week to go. This week has been quite nice really. I was doing a few more fun things with the kids and the good Lord has smiled on me a bit, too. Tuesday we had an African drumming workshop in the morning. I have this strange compulsion to get myself a djembe now. In the afternoon, about 10 of the class were out playing in a football tournament, so we did some more fun activities. Wednesday was my planning day so no contact with kids all day. Thursday I had to go into college in the afternoon for the final meeting and Friday was INSET and all the staff were doing tasks at home so school wasn't open. This was wonderful for me, not only because it was an unexpected oasis of peace before the final push, but also because I had my daughter's confirmation on Thursday night and it was my 27th Wedding Anniversary on Friday. Thank you God - it is so wonderful that you can operate outside of linear time and organise things like that!

The confirmation was lovely, actually. I may sound surprised at that but it is because it was done on a pastoral area basis. For administrative purposes we now have to do things with two neighbouring parishes which means it can lack the intimacy that doing stuff in your own church has. We had to trek out to St Winefride's in Neston. It's a lovely sandstone church - very picturesque but with the weirdest layout on the inside. We were OK as we were facing the altar. But a large section looks sideways on so it is not the most inclusive layout I've seen. The big downside of this pastoral area arrangement is that you can't invite your family as there is no room. As his Lordship was with us, he had to sit in the cheap seats at the side and didn't really see that much. The church was full so there was no chance of inviting grandparents. The pianist was excellent which assisted greatly in encouraging a bit of singing. We didn't hang around to say hello to the bishop as St Winefride's church hall was straining a bit to cope with the numbers and I was getting claustrophobic. We escaped to the calmer ambience of Pizza Express in Heswall.

Friday morning meant a much deserved lie-in and lunch at the Hinderton Arms in Neston. His Lordship and I then went to Ness Gardens to walk off the worst excesses of lunch before replacing them with a slice of home baked cake. Even Ness is not a safe haven from the recent infestation of superlambananas. Now, just time to replenish my energies, do a bit of planning and into the final push for week 9 of 9!

PGCE final placement - Week 6 of 9 -What a corker!

Well, this week was a bit more upbeat for me. But I must admit to being completely knackered. I am desperately trying to figure out how you can do a decent job and still have a life! 3 more weeks to go and I am counting down in every way possible - pairs of daily disposable contact lenses I need, marking off days on the calendar. By the time I have my next hair appointment I will have finished. I have purchased my last monthly travel season ticket. I have 15 more days in school, of which 10.5 are teaching days. If I could put as much imagination into my lesson planning it would be great!

Humour spot of the week this week:

Me: Can anybody tell me what this is? (holding up a champagne cork)
Pupil A: A cork!
Me : That's right, it's a cork! What is it made from?
Pupil B: Cork.
Me: Yes, well done, it's made from cork. But where does 'cork' come from?
Whole class (in chorus): From wine bottles!

From the mouths of babes, eh?

PGCE Final placement - week 5 of 9 Numeracy across the curriculum...

'Here I am' is the deadly boring and uninspiring RE scheme of work used by, I think, all of the Catholic Primary Schools in England and Wales. Whoever devised it wants shooting, seriously. What is even worse is that, considering so many teachers must have to use it, there is absolutely nothing on t'internet in terms of resources/ideas of how to deliver the scheme. But anyhow, we were looking at 'Building Bridges' which is essentially about relationships and reconciliation. I happened to tell the kids the story of when Jesus was asked by Peter how many times we should forgive someone, should it be seven times. Jesus responded with seventy times seven (according to some translations). I was so bored that I decided to use this as an opportunity for some cross curricular maths. I unashamedly picked on a young chap by the name of John. He is the maths star of the class. I cannot keep up with him workwise. He just eats up everything that you put in front of him (metaphorically speaking!). I gave it to him as a mental maths challenge. He had a little think about it and tells me its 490. OK, to an adult of average intelligence, this is no great shakes. But this little guy is seven years old. His classmates splutter their way through the 2, 5 and 10 times tables. Many struggle to mentally calculate something like 15-6. Suffice it to say I was well-impressed.

Silly Season..

Well, in a bid to recover from a fraught few weeks, there was nothing else for it but to take ourselves out on a good old fashioned family day out. Chester Zoo was earmarked as the ideal way to spend the Tuesday after Bank Holiday Monday. It's a long time since I've been to the zoo so I was interested to see how the place has changed. I was struck to see how the drop in moral standards visible in modern society has contaminated even this most wholesome of family activities. I was shocked to see the apparently respectable families standing in line to observe captive chimps engaging in sexual activity. What is worse is that, as you can see from the notice, these poor chimps are not simply engaged in relationships with their own kind but are not safe from the abuses of any passing bear.

I was impressed by the high quality of habitats provided for Chester's residents. The healthy elephant population is fortunate to have sheltered accommodation, an extensive enclosure, replete with ample bathing pool and shower. So it seems that all that is lacking for a romantic evening of elephant foreplay is the 'Best of Barry White'. It's just a shame that the final act doesn't live up to the expectations...

It's hardly surprising, given the constant thrill-seeking of contemporary society, that even the zoo has to broaden its appeal. Those hoping to find 'exotic dancers' may, however find themselves disappointed, all you will find here is a couple of wild dogs....what? WHAT?

Seriously, Chester Zoo, a super day out for all the family. Loads of improvements since my last visit including fab quarters for the orang utans. The Twilight Zone, a fab free flying bat house was there last time I visited but it was still a great thrill to have Rodrigues fruit bats flying past my ears! The Spirit of the Jaguar was a little disappointing - again a fab building but we only spotted one jaguar tucked away in a corner of the extensive accommodation. All of the animals seem well cared for and are housed comfortably and as closely to the natural habitat as is possible. And of course, Chester do great conservation work with many species whose natural habitats are under threat.

PGCE Final placement Week 4 of 9: Into the valley of death

I've just had the worst week so far. A crap observation impacted severely on my mood and led to a crap week. I have seldom felt so low. It brought back all of the horrible memories of my PGCE Secondary course (1st placement) which ultimately led to my jibbing the course. Please, God, the only way is up now. I can't express how much is tied up in this course for me and how desperately I need to succeed. The low point was midweek and admittedly it did improve before the end of the week. But I don't think I've ever felt so tired and added to this, the grief of losing Mum managed to surface - I'm having a little bit of difficulty putting that away again. Ever tried to get a tent back into its original container - then you'll get some kind of a handle on what I mean. As for the tiredness, I slept 12 hours on Friday night and 12 hours on Saturday night. I'm feeling a bit more human now.

Thankfully we have a week off now so I hope to get as much work done as I can to try to alleviate some of the stress over the final 5 weeks. As I missed 2 weeks from the Spain placement, I have to add these on to the end, which means I don't finish until 2 weeks after all my colleagues. I really don't understand how this will fit in to my infamous Profile of Professional Development. Am I supposed to meet the same standards as everyone else for the 3rd and 4th review points? And then slip back and only meet the standards for review point 2 at the end? It's all so messy!

Don't know if anyone else does this, I subconsciously sing songs which fit in with my mood at any given time. When I was going through my aborted attempt at secondary teacher training, my mantra was 'Gotta get thru this' by Daniel Bedingfield, which was a hit at the time. Last week I was apparently heard singing 'Every day is like survival' from Culture Club's Kharma Chameleon. This morning I was singing in the shower Labi Siffre's 'Somethin' inside so strong'. I'll try to harness the power of that one for the next few weeks. Will keep you updated as to any changes to the soundtrack of my life...