Woo-hoo!!!

I did it, I did it!

I got round the Race For Life course this morning, and I'm still buzzing :-) I completed it in 39 mins 42.8, which is about 50 seconds slower than last year - no mean feat since this year's training has been minimal (um, none since February), I am somewhat heftier than last year and I ran then walked for alternate songs, whereas I ran all of it last year.

But I don't care! I did it, purely powered by my iPod in all honesty and it was absolutely pouring down too. So if you ever need to cover 5km in less than 40 minutes, this is what I suggest you have to accompany you:

Thin Lizzy: The Boys Are Back In Town
The Libertines: Can't Stand Me Now
Oasis: She's Electric
Shania Twain: Man! I Feel Like A Woman!
The J Geils Band: Centrefold
Survivor: The Eye of The Tiger
The Levellers: One Way
The Boo Radleys: Wake Up Boo!
The B-52's: Love Shack
The Proclaimers: Sunshine on Leith

I know the last one seems not to fit tempo wise, but was just what I needed to carry me over the line in a haze of emotion (why do I blubber doing Race for Life when I never blub at any other race?) . If you fancy chucking some sponsor money this way to help me reach my target, that would be great!

Holiday Plans

Hurrah!

A and I have book our summer holiday. We are going to walk along Hadrian's Wall from Wallsend in the North East to Bowness-on-Solway outside Carlisle. We're actually going to add a bit on, so that the day before, we walk from Whitley Bay or Tynemouth to Wallsend, so we will have walked our own little "Coast to Coast" route.

Guess we'd better start upping our walking rate over the next few weekends...

BB7

Since when did it become acceptable to aspire to being a footballer's wife? And since when did the name "Bonnie" end in -ay? And is it educational or exploitative to place a person with Tourette's in the BB house?

Why am I even asking?

And why do I vow that I won't watch it and then get suckered in?

Favourite Words

So what's your favourite word?

After the staff meeting today, two colleagues were laughing hilariously at me, as I used one of my "little sayings". Don't know why, but I seem to cause mirth wherever I go with those two (thanks, you know who you are!!). Anyway, we then overheard someone else say that they had ameliorated a problem and I commented that it wasn't a word I really used. That set us off about words and I've been rolling a few around my head ever since. Here, in no particular order, are some of my favourite words:

discombobulate (and discombobulation), pizzicato, obfuscate, vapid, aspire, gloriana, flocculation, lintel, omnicompetent (I wish!), onomatopoeia, pizzle, campanologist, nesh, fruttivendolo (Italian for greengrocer)

No particular reason for any of them apart from the way they sound. Some of them in particular are words that I would love to use more often, but are really difficult to work into a conversation with adults, let alone 6 and 7 year olds.

A tells me his favourite word is phlegmatic, which make me laugh, because he just isn't.

So, I ask again, what's yours?

Arghhh!!!

What is wrong with me?

A is away for two nights and I arrive home before 6 - an ideal opportunity to make a start on the planning for next half term.

Instead I spend more time on the phone trying to sort out the mystery of the missing £500. The girl I speak to is as lovely as the rest and faithfully promises me that she will get back to me by the end of the week, but nevertheless, I seem to be spending a lot of my time sorting out someone else's cock-up. Then I end up surfing for ideas and info on Van Gogh (the featured artist) get totally engrossed and look up now to find it's gone 10pm and I haven't really done anything of note workwise (unless you count thinking about it).

Pants.

Spiderling Update: Part 2

I am bereft.

This morning as I left the house at 7.30am, I looked to check on my brood and there was no sign of them.

Niente. Nothing. Nada.

Not even a note, tucked under the flowerpot.

Less than 12 hours since I last checked and there's nothing that shows my babies were ever there.

*sigh*

Spiderling Update

When I came in from work a couple of hours ago, the spiderlings were scattering all across the web. I thought they were flying the nest and although I felt very proud that they were able to scurry so well, I felt a little sad. But I've just checked them and they are clustering back together - they're not leaving home just yet ;-)

Not for the squeamish

I spotted this outside my front door earlier this afternoon, so nipped out to take a photo close up. (Click on it to get a closer look)


Guessed what it is?

I'll give you a clue...each little "blob" is a millimetre across, maybe less.

No?

Well, maybe this shot that I took after I blew on them gently will help...


I hadn't spotted an egg sack anywhere around the door, but I'm guessing these spiderlings must be newly hatched out, because I spotted them straight away when A and I came back from town. They are so distinctive as well, but I don't know that I've ever seen a yellow and black spider like this.

Aren't they beautiful?

Tempus Fugit

Where is the time going? I'm horrified that it's almost the middle of May already. It's been a bit quiet on the blog front recently, as I've been busy with recording and marking assessments. I've also been wrestling with all sorts of other minor (and not so minor) irritants, such as heels breaking on shoes, resulting in attending a Governing Body meeting in my stockinged feet (I guess the eejit I sat next to thought the Sandie Shaw comment was funny - what's sadder is that a number of staff members older than me didn't get the reference...). I've also spent a bit of time off and on over the last ten days trying to sort out an erroneous direct debit payment, which means £500 of mine is currently floating around in cyberspace, and the intended recipient is baying for the money. Deep joy...

Trauma...

Well, I don't suppose you'll agree, but I think this is traumatic. Oxford United have been relegated to the Conference. For the first time since 1962, when they joined Division 4 on the demise of Accrington Stanley, they are not in the Football League.

The only up side is that this season, Northwich Victoria were promoted to the Conference, so they'll be playing them. This of course, gives A and I the same problem as when United were in the same league as Macclesfield Town and I would refuse to stand in the home end of the Moss Rose to watch United and he would refuse to stand in the away end! I recruited a colleague of mine at the time who, if he can't watch his beloved Norwich City will watch any match he can get to, so A wouldn't worry about me standing with a group of manic footie fans (He worries too much!) The funny thing was trying to explain to my cousin, a United season ticket holder who had come up to Cheshire for the match, why I was watching it with a bloke he'd never met before, rather than my husband...

Sympathy

For some reason, this week feels like one of the toughest so far this year ... and it was only four days long.

I'm sitting here staring at the computer trying to marshall my thoughts for next week and it's proving very difficult. My brain has turned to melted cheese, dripped out of my ears and is, as I type, running in rivulets to the floor, never to be retrieved.

Bummer.

And then I found this entry on my friend's blog. At least I know when I'll be able to catch up some sleep! Roll on Whit week...

Many Happy Returns

So today is my birthday and A and I are staying at my Mum and Dad’s for the Bank Holiday weekend. In the best tradition of birthday trips, we went out to the Zoological Museum at Tring. It was always a favourite of mine as a child and I haven’t dragged A here before.

Nothing’s changed really – the polar bear still dominates the view as you walk into the first gallery, the quagga’s still a bit moth-eaten, the seals have some terrible taxidermy scars, one of the leopards still has a slightly startled expression. But best of all, the fleas are still there!


These fleas are genuine fleas from cats or dogs, dating from about 1905 I think. Mexican women used to dress them in traditional costume. You have to look at them through a magnifying glass and I remember as a child really not believing they were fleas – after all, the fleas I’d encountered from our dog all had six legs and no sartorial elegance at all!

Re: pigs

Hmmm...

On reflection, it seems I may know more about pigs than is seemly for someone that doesn't actually breed them...

And for those who are interested, most pigs we see around are probably these:

The Large White. Not pink at all...

Why are pigs pink?

Today was an INSET day at school, and it was really interesting. A whole section was on developing thinking skills particularly through using philosophy with young children which fascinates me. At one point we had to classify some questions according to whether they were factual (How was water made?) or more philosophical ones (Why do humans rule the earth?)

Now, me being me, I got a bit hung up on the pig question above. I am from farming stock, so think of myself as a bit of an expert (as only a second generation townie can really) although I'm not aware that anyone has farmed pigs commercially in my family for years. But that's as maybe ...

While the others were flagging this question as factual, I got a bit hot under the collar. After all, a Tamworth (L) isn't pink and neither is a Berkshire.


I'm sure you'll be stunned to find out that a Large Black isn't pink. Saddlebacks aren't either, although they do have a lighter bit on their shoulders.


And if you're going that far, then neither is an Oxford Sandy and Black or a lovely New Zealand pig called a Kune Kune.

So are we stereotyping pigs? You only ever see pink pigs in storybooks. Where are other colours of pig represented? Rights for pigs, that's what I say!!

I found these pictures on Pig Paradise Farm or Pigs Online if you're sad enough to find out more.

Begging for it

Your money, that is!

In a few short weeks, I'm going to plod my way round the grounds of Arley Hall to complete my third Race for Life. 5k may not be the London Marathon, but since I haven't really trained since last year, it could well feel like it. My total is modest, so if you can, please sponser me here.

What a day!

Charles Clarke has "lost" some potential deportees, John Prescott's admitted to an affair *shudder*, Patricia Hewitt gets heckled by nurses.

If I were Tony Blair, I'd be tempted to just let Gordon get on with it...let him sort the blaggards out...

Cold Turkey

"I'm going to have a detox" A proudly announced on Sunday night. "No coffee, no tea, no beer, no fizzy pop. I'm going to drink only water and smoothies for a week."

Being a dutiful wife, I took the usual amount of notice one takes of these things and presented him with a cup of Kenco's finest at 6.30 yesterday morning. "Be gone, spawn of the devil" he said as he thrust it back at me. Or at least that's what it sounded like. I was still suffering from buzzing in the ears and a lack of sleep after all - a second cup of coffee within 5 minutes helped no end...

In the evening I luxuriated in being able to have some ginger beer - normally it's all gone by Monday, but not this week! Sean Bean and ginger beer - what more could a girl want?

This morning I remembered (well done Nic!) and presented him with a smoothie and a glass of water. See, I do listen to you, darling.

This evening he stomped into the house, muttered about feeling crap, cracked open a bottle of Stella and checked I had bought a new jar of coffee. Apparently his colleagues were begging him to take on board some caffeine before either they or he slashed his wrists in despair.

I'm guessing the detox is now officially over for this year...

Jasper

So, term starts again, and the usual happens. I read through my planning, so I know exactly what I'm teaching. I laminate a few resources (how sad am I that have my own laminator?), while away a pleasant hour and half watching Sean Bean (phwoar!), go to bed yawning and fully rested.

And...

Well, you can guess...

Ten minutes after turning the lights out - PING! Eyes wide open, brain racing like mad. I've forgotten something. I'm sure I have. No, it's no good, I can't lie here...

So midnight finds me downstairs again, flicking through the Sunday supplements, trying to bore myself to sleep reading about the nouveau riche Russians buying their way into Henley Regatta and the other key events in the Hooray social calendar.

The only thing that comforts me is that up and down the country there will be a multitude of teachers all in the same boat (I know because I can name several from my own school...)

Why oh why?

And then, to top it all, after less than 5 hours sleep, I am woken before 6 by a demented wasp trapped between curtain and window.

What the heck does it think it can sting that early in the morning? Even the starlings were muttering at it. (Just think about the birds in Roobarb and Custard to get the idea...)

Excuse me...

I think you are sat in my chair...

I think Lil is definitely letting A know he's in the wrong, don't you?

Satisfaction

...is carefully digging around a dandelion and then tugging to find the whole tap root has come up. Bliss...

Does this mark the official start of middle-age?