Late to the Party

I've just discovered the awesomeness of YouTube.  How was it possible to have lived with my daughter for the last 5 or 6 years and not have realised?

It makes me feel like a bad parent.  She told me about creative people putting on videos.  She told me about John Green (and I read his novels) and went all mooney about someone who I think was called Charlie Blue Sky.  She went to Hyde Park when she was 15 and got all excited about meeting her creative heroes.  I did listen, honestly I did but I just thought YouTube was a place full of teenagers expressing their existential angst (maybe it was).  I thought it wasn't for me.  As she got older she learnt how to put on make up from YouTube mainly because she was never going to learn it from her frumpy mother and has become slightly obsessed with Sprinkle of Glitter and a girl who has just married her vlogger boyfriend.  All I ever really found was Sneezing Pandas and small children biting each other's fingers.

Then my son became 15 and found YouTube. He spends hours watching people playing the video games that he plays.  I am becoming a bad parent again because I can't find any interest in what he's watching.

I had used YouTube to find things.  I'd re-watched things like the news, music videos or old comedy programmes and I'd found videos parents had put up of their children playing flute and piano exam pieces.

This morning the Long Suffering Husband was watching a YouTube video about golf balls and my son was watching people play Minecraft and so I sent a 'HELP ME' text to my daughter.  It is when the house gets very masculine and nerdy I really miss her.  She suggested I fight back by watching Ocarina videos and so I have spent much of the day wasting my time on finding wonderful mind expanding videos given for free by people who are more intelligent and creative than I could ever hope to be.

I started with Ocarina workshop, learning the parts for the Guinness World Record attempt at the Royal Albert Hall and moved onto watching some things I'd seen before, like Axis of Awesome and their understanding of 4 chord songs and the Pachabel Rant.

Then I remembered the brilliant Mom Song and watched that again.

Then I discovered the most amazing Vi Hart.  I want to have a fraction of this girl's intelligence and creativity.  

This is something I have to go and try and I might even listen to Schoenberg with new ears.  I have now watched most of Vi Hart's videos and am in complete awe of her.  I'm sure most of them will excite my son and terrify my daughter (as they are about maths and sometimes music) but the final video is the the one that is going to make me stop watching them and get on with being creative myself. 

Oh, and I might make some wax fingerprints too.

Mum and Dad

In our busy lives it is so easy to get caught up in everyday trivia that we can forget to say the things that are important to the people we love and care about. I'm not a very mushy or sentimental person so I don't often tell people I love them. I hope they know.

My parents do read my blog. I know that my Dad will say to my Mum, "She's written about you again," and so I would like to apologise because I'm going to do it again. I thought it was about time I told them how much I appreciate them for everything they've done, so here is a list of 20 things they've taught me.

1. Mum taught me to never be afraid to sing out loud. Opera is your friend and life isn't worth living if you can't belt out an aria in the privacy of your own kitchen.

2. Dad taught me not to play with sharp knives because bananas don't taste nice with the skins on.

3. Mum taught me that the libarary is free and has loads of books in it. We love books.

4. Dad taught me to be brave and stubborn and that you can make a deal with God if you promise to get a dog.

5. Mum taught me to question everything. She let me contantly ask, "why?" even though she desperately wanted a pushchair that faced the other way.

6. Dad taught me how to get grit out of my eye and that Weetabix with butter and jam is a good snack. (I don't know why I used to get lots of grit in my eye)

7. Mum taught me how to bake and let me make the pastry leaves for the top of the pie, put the sprinkles on the top of the trifle and didn't mind when I cried in the cheesecake.

8. Dad taught me how to double dig, about the difference between Kelvedon Wonder and Hurst Green Shaft and that there is nothing better than saying, "I grew that!" whenever anyone takes a bite.

9. Mum taught me that Goldfish can't drink Sherry - even at Christmas.

10. Dad taught me how to draw a cat.

11. Mum taught me that words that start with the same letter are interchangeable. Cyprus and Crete are the same place, aren't they?

12. Dad taught me that walking solves most problems.

13. Mum taught me that you can be an artist without wearing black turtle neck jumpers and having red painted nails but that as Dad had taught me to draw a cat I might like to consider other options.

14. Dad taught me that you can't always make your guests go home by putting on your pyjamas, setting your alarm clock and telling them that they are boring you.

15. Mum taught me that you and your husband need separate sheds.

16. Dad taught me to watch out for metal bars if you are telling others to be careful.

17. Mum taught me that the first thing you should do when shopping is have coffee.

18. Dad taught me that cats are not very good at taking cables under the floor boards.

19. Mum taught me to laugh a lot. She thinks postcards in a hospital are a good idea because then you could genuinely send 'wish you were here' (instead of me) cards to people.

20. Dad taught me that there is something funny in every situation and that laughing sometimes makes it feel better.

I love them both but you can see it is all their fault.

Consultation Consolation

My son used to call Parent's Evening the Parent Consolation Evening.  It always made us laugh, as he had clearly become confused about the word consultation.  I always thought consultation was a strange word to use anyway.  I don't ever remember being consulted; just told how they were doing.  I would ask if there was anything I could do to help but no one ever asked my opinion.  If they had I probably wouldn't have given it because although I come across as gobby and opinionated in the privacy of my own slightly anonymous blog I don't often say what I think out loud (although with age and grumpiness my opinions are beginning to slip out from time to time).  Maybe he had it right though and if the government's latest proposals on reporting and assessment are adopted  then consolation is what will be happening for the majority of parents.

Last night I read a blog about the proposals http://debrakidd.wordpress.com/2013/09/23/pride-and-prejudice/ and was appalled that the government were suggesting  these examples of how to report a student's progress to parents:

In the end of key stage 2 reading test, Sally received a scaled score of 126 (the secondary ready standard is 100), placing her in the top 10% of pupils nationally.  The average scaled score for pupils with the same prior attainment was 114, so she has made more progress in reading than pupils with a similar starting-point. 

In the end of key stage 2 mathematics test, Tom received a scaled score of 87.  He did not meet the secondary readiness standard (100).  This places him in the bottom 10% of pupils nationally.  The average scaled score for pupils with the same prior attainment was 92, so he has made less progress in mathematics than other pupils with a similar starting point. 

Tom's parents are going to need consoling but so are Fred's, Megan's, Josh's, Katie's, William's, Lauren's, Ben's and Jordan's because only the top 10 percent will be good enough for most parents and the thing about statistics is that everyone can't be in the top 10%.  It could be that getting 99% of the questions right puts child in the top 10% but if they got  90% of the questions right they would be in the bottom 10% however,  this won't matter to the parent.  I know because I'm a  middle class parent who wants the best for my children and I like all the others will fall into the trap and no one is suggesting that parents be given the raw scores.  I wrote recently about how A level exam results had made me have nasty competitive thoughts and ranking  11 year old children in terms of a single test result would make that worse. 

Aware that making snap judgements on one quote from a document is not very rigorous I ploughed my way through the whole thing.  https://www.education.gov.uk/consultations/index.cfm?action=conSection&consultationId=1920&dId=1300&sId=8724 

My initial thought was that it was very confused.  I was a bit confused but the authors of the document seemed even more confused.  They want to change things but they really aren't sure how.  

By the time I had finished reading I felt compelled to respond.  These are the questions they ask:

1. We expect schools to have a curriculum and assessment framework that meets a set of core principles and: 

• sets out steps so that pupils reach or exceed the end of key stage expectations in the new national curriculum;
• enables them to measure whether pupils are on track to meet end of key stage expectations;
• enables them to pinpoint the aspects of the curriculum in which pupils are falling behind, and recognise exceptional performance;
• supports teaching planning for all pupils; and
• enables them to report regularly to parents and, where pupils move to other schools, providing clear information about each pupils strengths, weaknesses and progress towards the end of key stage expectations. 

Question 1: Will these principles underpin an effective curriculum and assessment system? 

My head was spinning.  I ticked the 'I don't know box'.  Had they defined the principles? I could see the 'ands' were clearly defined but not the principles.

2.  Question 2: What other good examples of assessment practice we can share more widely?  Is there additional support we can provide for schools? 

They had listed a few favourite schools.  I wrote that I would like to see all good practice shared.  I'm confused as to why Cannon Lane First School in Harrow are the font of all knowledge.

3. Question 3: Does a scaled score, decile ranking and value-added measure provide useful information from national curriculum tests?

I confess that this is where I started to get a bit ranty.  I said that it obviously provides information but the time spent collecting the information takes away from the time educating the children and that it's not useful information anyway.  A statistic doesn't tell you how well an individual child is performing or how well that school is meeting the needs of individual children.  (I wish I had been that eloquent) 

4. Question 4: Should we continue to measure progress from the end of key stage 1, using internally-marked national curriculum tests? 

I ticked the 'No' box.  They are so confused about baseline assessment.  They just haven't worked out how to do it.  They know that no one wants SATs tests at Key Stage 1 but they can't see how else to measure progress.  They know that unless the assessments are externally moderated some schools will fiddle their results.

5. Question 5: If end of key stage 1 national curriculum test results are used as the baseline to measure progress, should school-level results be published? 

Again, I ticked the 'No' box.  I pointed out that when you publish the results schools need to make sure that their results 'look' good and then a lot of time is wasted on statistic manipulation that could be spent educating children.  (Again, I wish I had been that eloquent)

6.  Question 6: Should we introduce a baseline check at the start of reception? 

No. No. No.  There was only one 'No' box and clicking on it three times didn't make any difference to the input but I did it anyway.  I said that it breaks my heart to think that 4 year olds will have to be 'tested' within weeks of entering school.  Parents will be coaching them to be school ready.  Parents will want to know the results of these tests they will be standing in the playground and boasting about how their baby is in the top 10% of the country.  Where will it stop?  Maybe an amniocentesis could be done at 20 weeks during all pregnancies so there could be a proper baseline assessment!

7.  Question 7: Should we allow schools to choose from a range of commercially-available assessments?

The 'No' box was ticked again.  That's really not very rigorous is it?  Allow schools to use, whichever test gives them the best results.  If they are insisting on a baseline assessment then it has to be standardised.  

8. Question 8: Should we make the baseline check optional? 

This is where I might have overstepped the mark.  I am probably now on the list of undesirables and the Secret Service are watching me.(Have I read too much John Le Carre?).   I wrote, "Are you mad?  How can it be optional if you are going to publish progress results?"

9.  Question 9: If we take a baseline from the start of reception, should end of key stage 1 national curriculum tests become non-statutory for all-through primary schools?

I was beginning to lose the will to live.  "Yes. Of course, if you do that there is no point in them.  You really are stupid aren't you?"

10. Question 10: Do you have any comments about these proposals for the department’s floor standards?

"Yes, your department's standards are going right through the floor."

11. Question 11: Should we include an average point score measure in floor standards?

"Great another thing to measure.  When is anyone going to have any time to teach any of these children?"

12.  Question 12: Are there any other measures we should prioritise in performance tables?

I told them to measure happiness.  That for me, as a parent, and their customer that is my priority for my children.  

It seems to me that KS2 children get the raw end of the deal whatever happens.  They will continue to be assessed and labelled as failures.  They won't get the free school meals that KS1 children get.  They don't get a morning snack or an afternoon play.  They get less spend per capita than any other Key stage group in education and they have to achieve the most.  

I hope someone other than ranty old liberal me comments and helps them find their way because it is terrifying to think we have a Department for Education that is this confused.  

Alone

Today, I will be alone in the house for the first time in months. It's my day off: my son is at school, my daughter has gone back to University and the Long Suffering Husband is at work. This could make me a victim of 'empty nest syndrome'. I could walk around the house pining for my lost babies, thinking about how they used to need me and wondering what I'm going to do now that I've been made redundant from that particular job. I could wander into my daughter's room, excited that I can clean it properly and that it will stay clean and then sit on her bed crying into one of her jumpers that still smells like her but that's no fun. 

Today, I'm going to enjoy my empty house.

1. I'm going to play La Traviata at full volume and sing along, while I do the ironing (after I've done my vocal exercises of course)

2. I'm going to take the dog for a walk and stop at the swings and see if I can can flip right over the bars without anyone saying, "Oh mum. You're so embarrassing!"

3. I'm going to watch Jeremy Kyle, while cleaning the windows and try to rub the smug expression off his face, while shouting at him without anyone telling me to calm down.

4. I'm going to read my book in complete silence.

5. I'm going to bake a cake while watching New Tricks on the i-player without anyone pointing out what a terrible actor Dennis Waterman is.

6. I'm going to dance around the living room and see if I can twerk without anyone watching me.

7. I'm going to have a bath in the middle of the day without anyone banging on the door.

8. I could even walk around the house naked (maybe not)

It's not so much of an empty nest but more of a warehouse of possibility.

Being a Virus

I don't want to be a virus. A virus is chaotic, unstoppable and makes you sick.  I want to be calm, organised and fun to be around.

My letter to Mr Gove was a popular blog. It was re-posted several times and had ten times more page views than any of my other posts.  "You're going viral," said a friend, commenting on how many times it had been re-tweeted and I confess that I panicked a little bit. I re-read it, to make sure I hadn't said anything too contentious, nothing that would mark me out as a target for the secret services.  I didn't want to get accidentally pushed under a tube train the next time I visited London or sacked from my job.

As the number of pageviews went higher and higher I couldn't stop looking.  I felt my chest tightening I imagined the whole world reading it and that was scary.  People wrote lovely things as they shared it; they called me clever and said things like, "If you read only one thing about education today, make it this," and I started to think that maybe I was a bit of a genius. What if someone thought I was the font of all knowledge and I suddenly found myself on the This Morning Sofa next to Katie Hopkins?  Then there'd be trouble.

That evening I was meant to be arranging music for the band but I was being distracted by my own imagined genius.  The Long Suffering Husband was sulking because he had wanted to go to the pictures and I had turned him down for an evening with Sibelius so I said, "Come on let's go and see that time travelling comedy."  Such sudden decision making frightened him slightly, "Are you sure? You said you had lots of work to do."  "Yes definitely," I replied, "it might be the last time I can leave the house without a paper bag over my head."

Checking my hiding from the papparazzi look.

Three days later, I was still feeling the pressure.  I wanted to blog again but was fearful that my new-found followers wouldn't like it or that it wouldn't be very good or that it would be too good and even more people would read it.  Could I really follow Dear Mr Gove with a piece about getting a dress stuck on my head in a changing room?

I needn't have worried.  If I was a virus I was a very short-lived one; the kind that makes you feel a bit under the weather for a few days but with no dramatic symptoms.  My pageviews are back to normal.  I am able to write for the fun of it without trying to please anyone and I am comforted by by daughter's intitial response to my fear, "Don't worry mum, you're not that good."

Shopping Trauma

"You don't shop much do you?" my friend laughed when explaining where I got my shoes from, I said, "You know, that cheap shop, only £4 a pair. I bought 3 pairs."

It's true. I don't really like shopping. I find it a bit traumatic but sometimes it's unavoidable and yesterday was one of those times. My daughter is heading back to University next week and obviously needed some new stuff. Parents who have just spent a fortune in Ikea to kit their 18 year old out for a year in halls need to know that there will be more stuff to buy for the second year. They will be in a student house with a double bed, so they will need new bedding; their wok will have been used by all 20 of their flat mates in halls, never washed up, gone rusty, smell of meat; their sharp knife will have gone missing and they won't have been able to buy another one because they are not 21. Parents won't necessarily have to pay for all this because a year away, learning about the cost of pot noodles, will have fostered a small sense of financial independence but you will still be required to be present for the trip, if only to carry the bags and buy the knife. 

If I was being forced to shop then I thought it would be a good idea to buy some new clothes.  My winter wardrobe is looking tired, shabby, a bit holey and someone seems to have tightened the waistband on all my trousers and skirts. (listen to me - winter wardrobe - I sound like a fashionista) 

The main problem with not shopping very often is the shock at how much everything costs. £50 for a pair of trainers! The last time I bought trainers they were £30 and I thought that was expensive. 

When you are used to shoving a top in your trolley as you dash round Tesco for the weekly food shop everything about buying clothes properly seems alien. You shuffle round a crowded shopping centre bemused by so much choice. There are beautiful, well cut clothes in material that won't develop holes, in shops staffed by women with hair and faces that don't move, that you need to take out a mortgage to buy. In the shops staffed by young gum-chewing slim blonde girls there are clothes that probably cover less than my underwear. There are dresses that would be great but someone seems to have cut a hole to expose the least flattering part of a woman.

A dress designed for love-handle splillage

 Even the mannequins look odd in these shops. Then there are the cheap shops, with their jumble sale atmosphere, material so thin you can read your newspaper through it (newspaper! - I mean i-phone, of course) and surprises when you get to the till as the bored sales assistant tells you that your £5 shoes only cost £4 after all.

If you are lucky enough to find something that you can imagine wearing then the changing room becomes another trauma. You strip to your bra and pants in a tiny curtained box, with the gap, so that everyone walking past can see you. The bright lights and full length mirror show up every lump, bump and particularly the dark circles under your eyes. You wonder if the shop got their fittings from a Fair's Hall of Mirrors. You struggle into the clothes, thinking that it can't get worse as you bang your elbow on the only solid wall and then you look in the mirror. Who do they make these clothes for? How can a dress make you look worse than you did in your underwear? If that wasn't traumatic enough then there is the issue of struggling out of the dress. I don't know if this has ever happened to you but when you are in a tiny changing room with a dress stuck, half on, half off, covering your face, blocking your nose, preventing proper breathing panic does start to set in.

I did manage to buy something. A nightshirt, more £4 shoes and a book. A book can keep you warm and your feet dry through the winter, right?

Dear Mr Gove

Dear Mr Gove,

I am writing this because I feel sorry for you.  You appear to be a very confused man.  Someone has told you that Education is broken and it is your responsibility to fix it.  They have also told you that you need to spend even less money, while fixing it.  I wouldn't like to be in your shoes.

Like you, I have no real qualifications to make any kind of decisions about how to run an education system; I am a parent, I have been to school, I do have common sense, I like words and writing and can spot the absurd and make a joke out of it.  I have also been trying to teach children about music for a while now.  I say trying because what I have learnt from this experience is that it's not an easy job.  You can't just open the tops of their heads and pour in the information you want them to know and they are all different, so that in a class of 30 you will probably need at least 20 different strategies to help them to learn and recall something.

In today's article in the Telegraph you appear more confused than ever.  You have spotted what appears to be absurd about how some teachers have worked with their classes and given them as examples of bad education and then gone on to say how, "Great teaching involves empathy and energy, authority and resilience, detailed planning; constant self improvement.  A great teacher has the ability to 'read' a classroom and understand its dynamics instantly; shows inspirational leadership, exciting and motivating pupils to help them achieve their full potential."  You say this yet you undermine the many great teachers who use some of the techniques you laugh about.  You are right about great teachers; they will do whatever it takes to excite and motivate a pupil into achieving their full potential but whatever it takes will probably have to include some of the techniques you pour scorn on.  You are great with a soundbite and you know any sane and rational person reading the article will think that 18 year old A level students would find making Plasticine models eye-rollingly stupid.  Most 18 year old A level students would much rather have their teacher stand at the front of the class and waffle on for 40 minutes so that they can continue their daydream about getting a date with Taylor Lautner, or whoever this week's most fanciable male actor happens to be.  Teenagers will tell you that most of what they do at school is,  "STOOPID."   They do not want to go out onto the field to re-enact the Battle of Flodden but in 5 years time they will still be able to tell you everything about that Battle, including the names and dates.  (I know because I have a daughter who can remember everything about a history lesson that she had to re-enact but can't remember any French Vocab she learnt by rote).

As an equally unqualified person to pronounce on these matters I have believed that education doesn't serve all children in this country well.  Like you, before I started working in schools, I would think that it would be easy to fix education. I would think, "How hard can it be to make children learn to spell properly?"  I would believe my children when they sneered at their teacher's methods.  However, since I have worked in schools I have learnt a lot.  I have watched really excellent teachers, who could teach children something inspiring if you gave them the phone book to work with.  I have seen dedication that requires work late into the night and at weekends. I have seen that children learn more when they are having fun.  Unfortunately, I have also seen teachers exhausted by having to write everything down, learn and follow the latest method of teaching and assess the children in the way that puts their school at the top of the league tables.

I never thought that schools are getting worse.  I have noticed that my children learn in greater depth and with greater understanding than I ever did.  I can still tell you the first 20 elements of the periodic table but my son can tell you why they are in the positions they are in, the number of electrons in each and tell you quite a lot about the properties of each element. My children were taught to think for themselves at school I was only taught to think for myself by my wonderfully intelligent parents (who, indidentally had a terrible secondary modern education, which they left at 14).  Schools in the eighties were just as worried about how they looked as they are now; the needs of the individual child came second to getting the best results for the school.  I took CSE English at the end of my 5th year, despite having already passed my English O level the year before.

If I were in your position I would be getting into schools to discover these things for myself.  I would look at the best education systems in the world like Finland, Denmark and New Zealand.  I would try to implement the things that make their education system great.  Here are a few of my suggestions.
1. Instil a love of books.  Give every parent 3 free books on the birth of their child that they can start reading to their children immediately.  Keep libraries open and free.
2. Reduce class sizes to 20.  Any teacher will tell you that smaller classes will make all the difference.
3.  Start formal education later.  Encourage play based daycare that isn't about babysitting to allow adults to work but is a place that children want to go to to learn, explore, make friends and have fun.
4. Have extended hours music schools at a reduced cost.
5. Remove gifted programmes.  Education is not a race.  Exams designed for 16 year olds should be taken by 16 year olds.  Children who already know enough to pass could help those who don't as teaching others is the absolutely best way to improve and understand your own skills. If that didn't suit an individual child they could read for pleasure.
6. Have a national curriculum but then leave it alone.  Allow teachers to use whatever method works for individual pupils. Teachers will need to be well educated and really understand every method available. Stop changing things with every government.  Employers don't stand a chance of knowing what their potential employees exams mean.  They have to ask themselves, "Was that a year when the grades were lowered? Was grammar taught that year?" "Did women exist in that year's History curriculum?"
7.  Get rid of league tables and competition.  Remember that statistics can and always will be manipulated.

However, I think all this may not make you a popular person with the treasury, as I suspect it might cost money they are not willing to let you spend but I do hope you consider some of these things and start to think about children, rather than the interesting soundbite.

It Pains Me

It pains me to admit that I think I have an unusual relationship to pain.  A massage hurts at the time and for days after but I had two babies with no pain relief or, if I'm honest, any real discomfort apart from feeling completely knackered.  If I get a headache, though, I have to go to bed before I'm sick.

Today, I had to have a filling and I said to the Dentist, "Could you do it without an injection?"  He seemed a bit surprised, said he'd give it a go and made me promise to stop him if it hurt.  The one time I've had an injection I hated it.  I hated the numb feeling, I hated the tingling as the feeling returned, I hated not being able to drink for the rest of the afternoon without slopping it down my front and I hated the fact that I bit my lip and spent another week with a painful ulcer.  I thought that I'd be able to do it, just relax and focus on my breathing. At the most it would be 20 minutes of pain.  I was so relaxed I could feel by eyes closing and the Dentist was asking if I was OK so I thought I ought to pay a bit more attention.  I realised that I couldn't feel anything while he was drilling.  Not a thing.  Not a pain. Not a tickle.  Absolutely nothing.  I tried concentrating on it to see if there was any pain but I really couldn't feel anything.  Then all of a sudden I felt something.  I must have flinched, as profuse apologies followed.  The Dental Nurse had accidentally sucked my tongue up the sucky thing.

When the treatment was over the Dentist asked me if I had been shaking with pain during the filling and I felt a bit stupid having to explain that I had been laughing. They both laughed at my suggestion that they only offered anaesthesia for accidental suckage.

Synchronistic Candy Crush Level

I'm such a Twerk

Yesterday, I discovered that twerking is not looking at Twitter while you are working. My daughter thought my idiocy was very funny. I had noticed that a lot of people seemed to be saying they were going to twerk when their boyfriends got home, which I thought was a little anti-social but who am I to comment.  I'm always working (with an occasional Twitter diversion).  It makes sense for the word to be an amalgam of  twitter and work but apparently it means dancing while wiggling your bottom in a sexy way.  Now I understand the need for the boyfriend to come home.  This appears to be a new word.  I'd never heard it before and I have discovered that it was Miley Cyrus who made it famous at the VMA awards by wiggling with Robin Thicke to the Blurred Lines song (don't get me started on it's terrible rapey lyrics)  in a flesh coloured bikini. I looked it up on You Tube and found a girls who wiggled into some candles and set herself alight before I found Miley's dance. I was a bit confused because I thought it must be a new dance but isn't it just the 'shake your booty' stuff that Beyonce has been doing for years?  Twerk is just such a silly work for a sexy dance.  It sounds more like an insult.

Then a friend had this picture on facebook this morning with the comment, "This is what you get from sharking."

Sharking - another word I had to look up.  Sharking is the female equivalent of de-bagging.  Instead of trousers being pulled down it's tops to expose breasts. I'm sure this has been invented because of the maxi dress.

The Oxford online dictionary has a list of new words for August 2013

1.Buzzworthy - like newsworthy but more trendy.

2. Squee - the sound of a squeal.  I'm not sure this word is needed as squeal is quite onomatopoeic anyway

3. Selfie - I knew this one.  I have taken a picture of myself but always deleted it quickly.  With my family genetics, the double chin exposes itself too easily in a selfie.

4. Me time - Surely this isn't new.  Haven't parents, when telling their friends that they can't even go to the loo on their own anymore, said, "I just want a little bit of me time."?

5.emoji - I've heard of these too.  I have an i-phone and it's the little pictures you can put on stuff instead of words. The big problem with these is that with my old lady eyesight all the faces look the same and so I can easily add a frown instead of a smile.

6. Unlike -  Now, I know this has been a word for a long time but apparently it's definition is now, "to withdraw one's approval of a post on a social media site that you had previously liked."  Is it just me or do some things just not need defining?

7.FIL - Father In Law.  That's just abbreviation.  I wonder if LSH will appear in the dictionary next?

8  BYOD -More abbreviations.  People now get invitations with BYOB, bring your own bottle and BYOD, bring your own device on.  I think the device is i-phone or computer but I suppose it depends on the type of party.

9. Jorts - This is a word I could have guessed, it's a word that twerk should have been, a mixture of two words we know already: jeans and shorts - denim shorts.

10/ Flatforms - Also makes sense.  Like platform shoes but flat thick soles rather than sloping ones.

11. Cake Pops - Cakes on a stick.  Not surprisingly, I have heard of cake pops.  I like cake.

12. Vom - When I was at university this was my favourite drink. A vodka, orange and martini.  If you drank more than 8 in an evening it did make you vomit.  The current version of the word cuts out the drinking part and heads you straight for the nearest bowl.

13. Food Baby.  I think I invented this phrase.  As a lover of cake who is prone to a touch of abdominal bloating I have had many, many food babies and I believe my first was in 1979.

In future I'm going to keep a closer eye on the new words so I don't end up looking and sounding like a complete twerk and making my daughter's boyfriend text SERIOUSLY (in capital letters) in response to her telling him about my misunderstanding of the word..

The Toughest Job in the World

It's tough being a parent.


























That's it.  That's all there is to say on the subject.

Educational Ping Pong

Going back to school was filling me with dread:  What if I'd forgotten how to teach?  What if the kids were really horrible this year?  What if all the staff are so stressed they've lost their sense of humour?  The news was full of politicians playing ping pong with education.  Each side claimed the lack of school places were the other side's fault, they all claimed that education was broken and that they could fix it with a bit more tinkering.  Free schools hit the news.  I'm a bit confused by Free schools.  I might have mis-interpreted it but it seems to me that people can open a private school, which doesn't need to follow the rules that state schools follow, and parents don't have to pay for it. It all made me feel very depressed.  Who wants to work in a broken system, with kids who are never going to learn to read and write properly?

I needn't have worried though.  In the real world, with real teachers and real pupils that aren't just the statistics of politicians, life is great.  Children are individuals, with their own humour and personalities.  They still look at you like rabbits caught in headlights when you tell them that they are going to learn the Greek National Anthem in Greek.  Some laugh when they ask you what it means and you say, "It's all Greek to me."  They all want to do their best.  They all want to please.

My day was made absolutely brilliant today by my colleagues, who are funny, irreverent, caring and bonkers.  Being 'drawn' to a certain child, huge wrap and naff but delicious cake were my favourite parts and mean that I'm very happy to go back tomorrow.

It seems that anyone can set up a free school https://www.gov.uk/set-up-free-school so if I lose my job when the government next decide that unqualified teachers can't work in state schools I might set up a free school, where the focus of the curriculum is 4 hours of music a day http://medicalxpress.com/news/2013-09-music-lessons-quality-school-life.html, joke telling to develop a sense of humour, eating cake, going for walks in the rain, reading any book you want to and ping pong (to keep the government happy).  Who's with me?

Simple Pleasures

How did it happen? Is it just age that turns you into a boring old fart or were the tendencies always there?

As a teenager, I was going to travel the world. Go to the same holiday destination twice? Not me thanks! The world is a big place and my 2 weeks holiday a year weren't going to stretch very far if I went back to somewhere I'd already seen. I laughed at the middle aged couples who went to Durdle Door or the Isle of White every Summer but now I'm one of them.  I have been to the same place five years in a row and I want to go back.  I didn't want to come home and if I won the lottery (note to self: do the lottery) I would buy the Old Pharmacy on the main road and move there tomorrow. "Five times?  That's not much.  No one comes here just once.  When we first bought this cottage we came here every weekend from London," said our neighbour, "we moved here permenantly 15 years ago."

Is it just the location or does the place attract people who are boring old farts at heart?  Were the signs always there? When I prefered knitting, listening to the Archers and making cakes at University to clubbing (was clubbing even invented then?) was it a sign that I would be thinking West Wales was a greater adventure than a round the world plane ticket? The big travel plans feel so complicated.  Holidays in Solva are all about the simple pleasures.

1.  It looks pretty.  There are mountains at your back and rivers at your feet, the sun shines, the light is clear and bright and you feel as though you are on the edge of the world.

2.  There is no mobile phone signal.  There are no texts, phone calls or facebook messages. There is no wi-fi in the cottages, in fact the cottages are probably too small for a phone. The LSH got a bit of a sore head but it was the perfect size for the rest of us and if we got bored there were always the scary pictures to look at.

 

3. The coastal path is brilliant.  There are benches at the top of the 'ups' (I'm not so good at ups) where you can sit and read your book or  you can walk to St Davids (the smallest city) and buy cheese and the most delicious ice cream made from the milk of happy organic cows.

4.  Crabs.  There are so many crabs in Solva.  Even the smallest shop sports a sign that says, "we have crabs,"  Crab salad looks tasty (although it's not really my thing) and they just jump into the bucket at the Quay, making you feel like the best fisherman in the whole wide world.

5.  Books.  You can read anywhere in Solva.  The top of a hill, the quay, a pub, a cafe - ANYWHERE.

6. Dogs.  It's a great place for dogs.  Dogs are allowed on the  beaches, the coastal path, the pubs and everyone loves your dog.

7. Beaches with sand.  Sand you can sleep on.  Sand you can dig.  Sand that doesn't get too hot to walk on.  Sand that gets in your sandwiches and underwear.  

8. Cameras.  Even the worst photographer can feel like and artist.  The subject matter just jumps out at you.

9. Humour.  The people are funny and friendly.  They are happy to tell you stories and share their jokes.  The have a grumpy old man's club that organise events like 'extreme fishing competitions' and a knit and bitch club in the cafe.

10. The wind.  It blows the cobwebs out of your head, it keeps you cool when the sun gets hot and it lets you fly a kite.  There is really no better thing than flying a kite on an empty, sandy beach at sunset.