I am ill, of course I am ill, its half term. What is it you do in school holidays? You get the car serviced, get your eyes tested, take the cats to the vet, get your teeth fixed and go to the doctor.
As in previous occasions, I got sick, and ignored it. This was on the premise that, if spurned it would of course go away. This is an excellent theory, which sadly rarely works.
So it came to pass that I woke up on the first days of the holidays to a sound similar a cross between a blocked drain and a drowning mouse. I held my breath, the sound stopped. Once I started breathing again I realised the sound was my clogged lungs attempting to inhale oxygen.
So, after taking the car to the garage, and booking the cats in for their annual veterinary pilgrimage, I sallied forth to the medical centre.
After listening to my rattling emissions, a chest infection was diagnosed and a prized prescription pressed into my hot little hand. Given that my job is in a special school, and as such I came into more than my fair share of bodily fluids, I asked the doctor if there was any way I could boost my immune system.
Sadly, the only advice she could give me was plenty of fruit and veg and exercise. This was not what I wanted to hear. Where was the miracle, overpriced elixir which would prevent me from suffering from viral infection? She also waxed lyrical about scrupulous hygiene and hand washing but I had already stopped listening.
We all know the road to hell is paved with good intentions and so I will start next term. I will walk to school, have fruit for lunch and drink gallons of water. And gradually I will tail off and by the Easter holidays I will be back in her waiting room.
As an aside, the car cost £200 and the cats are in rude health. Maybe I should eat lamb in jelly and poo in the garden?
A few days ago a friend of mine had a little girl. For a few weeks before and in the days since there has been much talk on what name they should choose. It can be quite a mine field for anyone, but for people in the teaching profession its a nightmare. Whatever name you choose, you always know someone with that name and generally have been upset by them. I have known teachers pore over baby books, trying to come up with names they have never heard before.
I also happy that I had already had children when I started in schoolwork. Strangely enough I never had to reprimand anyone with the same name as my kin. (Apart from my actual children). I wonder if I subconsciously let similarly named children off the hook. Crumbs, did I actually let them go free from their transgressions to preserve my off springs good names?
In the interesting North London School that I used to work in, the boys names to avoid were Jason, Jordan, Nathan and Shane. Seriously, we had more trouble with children with these names than any other.
The girls names to avoid would be Destiny, Alice (old fashioned I know, but I have had trouble with a few) any alcohol-based name liked Chardonnay and anyone named after a handbag. I wish I was joking, but I have met more than my fair share of Gucci, Lulu and Armani. I sincerely hope it was not my exasperation with their awful names that caused me to have no patience with them. I hope it was just the choices they made.
So after much deliberation they settled on Jane Rose. Sweet, no problem there.
Although there was once a Jane…
So, for the past few days I have been suffering with the flu. At the time it did not feel like a lucky break, my head was spinning my nose was running, and my get up and go had got up and gone.
I thought my spouse and my children would step up and take command of the house, but this did not happen. They have spent the last three days living on take- aways. Sometime around Friday lunch time we ran out of crockery so someone was elected to do the washing up.
My daughter was due to take a short flight to Scotland and asked if someone could take her to the airport. The same someone that did the washing up did the airport run. Yes. Me.
Disappointed though I was that the house fell apart, I was glad that my initial thoughts were confirmed that I do actually do everything.
Work, now that is interesting. I work in a team of four, and I emphasise the word team. One teacher and three teaching assistants. Its like four wheels on a car. One doesn’t work you are pretty screwed. My job is in a special school, and trust me you need your wits about you. As it transpires one of our team does not pull their weight, but it seems that the rest of us have been taking up the slack. However, when one of the team isn’t there to do that, their inadequacies became apparent.
I have kept in the loop by the person who was sent in to cover me. She has reported Mr TA.
He was the last to arrive, the first to leave, he did not pay attention when he was there. Now, although I knew this, there was no way I would have reported him because I believe in sticking together. On Friday things came to a head when one of the children, unattended, spectacularly broke a piece of expensive equipment. The equipment can be replaced. Its fortunate the child wasn’t hurt. Now it is no longer about team loyalty it’s about health and safety.
I feel bad for the person in trouble but the safety of the children must come first.
Tomorrow I return to work, to either a repentant co-worker or a very pissed off person. Could go either way.
At last we got the snow, sadly the picture is not my house. I have a miniature village in my back garden. In reality we got about an inch of snow.
But it was really pretty.
It was not enough to make the roads dangerous, but deep enough that people (including me) were driving more carefully.
It was not enough to make the playground off limits, but deep enough to have a decent snowball fight.
It was not enough to close school, but deep enough to make everything clean and bright.
It was not enough to build a great big snowman, but deep enough to build cute ones.
The best thing of all? It was all gone by tea-time, so won’t be icing up overnight.
There are, I believe, ghosts in my house. The furniture doesn’t move as such, although I do hear the occasional bump in the night. I wonder if they are poltergeists. I make a cake, put it in the tin, then a few nights later I might fancy a snack and the cake tin is empty. A similar thing happens to the biscuit tin. Crisps, sweets all disappear. Curious
The laundry, now that doesn’t disappear, no no, that increases. I empty the laundry basket, ten minutes later, its full again. Most Curious.
When I do the washing up, I leave the kitchen clean and tidy. I return home to find dirty plates and an empty fridge. Curiouser and curiouser.
I do sometimes see shadows. They pass me on the stairs on their way to bed. Usually just as I am getting up.
They lock the door to the bathroom at the time I need a shower.
Its all more irritating than scary.
The most curious of all is that these ghosts appeared at about the same time my children mysteriously disappeared from daylight hours…
This is my local weather report. Can you see how snow is predicted? Don’t worry, it won’t snow. This is about the fifth time this week that snow has been predicted and we have had not a drop. I read recently that weather persons tend to exaggerate weather reports now. This goes back to 1987 when a hurricane hit the UK with no warning. In fact, a categorical denial of a hurricane was issued. The backlash and embarrassment have meant the Met office will not want to be caught out again. Thus storms, high winds and, yes snow are constantly being predicted to no avail. You might wonder why I am so upset by this. I love when snow first falls. Everything is so clean and beautiful. Its silences everything too. I am not so keen when it turns to ugly slush and refreezes. Another wonderful side effect is that as I work in a school, they frequently shut for fear of being sued for injuries to children on their way to or from their place of education. Deep joy. So, even though only light snow is predicted and in all probability it will not snow at all, I ventured out to the local frozen food shop and filled the freezer with food.
My spouse pointed out a fatal flaw with this. Our freezer is in the garage. Our garage is at the bottom of the garden. In the event of being snowed in, we would be 20 feet from our sole source of food. I considered leaving a shovel in the kitchen so we could dig our way to the food. Know how many people die from shovelling snow? According to the BBC news 100 people a year.
I guess its a chance I will have to take. It won’t snow anyhow.
Last night I had a heart attack or possibly heartburn, its so hard to tell.
I was watching television while checking my emails on my phone and also playing words on tour on my tablet, so, you know pretty busy. Incidentally, it is impossible to get past level 63 on words on tour unless one pays for help. That is not going to happen. (Other blood sucking games are available)
Anyway, getting back to my possible demise. I suddenly felt a severe pain in the middle of my chest. My chest tightened and breathing was quite difficult, I even put my phone and tablet down. When I got pins and needles up my right arm I started to panic a little. I did what any level headed person would do and googled it. (other search engines are available).
I thought I would get reassurance that the pain was in the ‘wrong’ arm. Sadly, pain or numbness or pins and needles can be in either arm. This did not reassure me. I then decided to compare heart attack with heartburn and the upshot is there is not much difference. However, one website gave me a good tip in that if one takes antacid then heartburn will be relieved by a few good belches. Its not a nice word is it? Belch. There does not seem to be a nice word for it. Burp? Sorry, I digress again. Back to my imminent departure from this earth.
I managed to get to the kitchen where I imbibed some Pepto Bismal. ( other antacids are available). Does anyone else think that it tastes and smells like Germolene?
I sat back on the sofa, waiting.
I did indeed belch, burp, whatever quite a bit, although this didn’t alleviate the symptoms I felt happier that it might be heartburn. I thought the pins and needles might be due to some aggressive words on tour playing. Seriously, its impossible to get past level 63.
I toddled off to bed and was quite happy that I didn’t wake up dead this morning. Just in case you might be a woman, suffer from heartburn or possibly a heart attack I have put a handy chart for you.
Incidentally I had quite a sharp pain in my jaw this morning. Could it be..? Nah.