I Wonder if Sheep Get Hot Flushes

There's a big focus on sheep in the press at the moment.  Reporter, George Monbiot, wrote a piece in the Guardian at the beginning of January about how we need to plant trees on hills to protect lowlands from flooding.  It was a very well written and convincing article that made a lot of sense to me and, it seems many other people.  Even the Politicians have started to consider the idea and George went on Countryfile to explain his position.
(read it here: http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jan/13/flooding-public-spending-britain-europe-policies-homes )


Unfortunately, George has a problem with Sheep.  I wouldn't be putting it too strongly if I said he hates them.  His article 'Sheepwrecked' starts with the line, "How Britain has been shagged by the white plague."  This country has a very complicated relationship with sheep.  We like them; they are white and fluffy and cute looking; we pay farmers huge subsidies to grow them; we refer to them all through our Biblical texts, and sing nursery rhymes about them. We eat the baby ones but not the adults, don't drink the milk but make clothes from their wool.  In my opinion, sheep are OK. I like knitting, eating lamb and I'd rather walk through a field of sheep than a field of cows any day.  Now, Farmers and other people are very upset with Mr Monbiot.  He's getting a lot of negative comments on Twitter (although as far as I can see no rape or death threats - lucky he's not a woman).  The Welsh Daily Post is running with the headline, "Taking Sheep from Uplands Social Genocide."  I'm sure I'm very ill informed and naive on the matter but I can't help wondering what sheep have against trees.  Surely the two are not mutually exclusive. With a few trees the ground would be more solid and less likely to be trampled into mush by these white woolly menaces that George Monbiot is so cross with.

Whilst, I am interested in the sheep issue, my attention is rather firmly set on my own body temperature at the moment.  Today a Sky engineer called to fix the satellite box in the bedroom.  It had stopped playing Sky Sports reliably, which is no good if I am to continue to send the Long Suffering Husband to his bedroom to watch football.  Having run upstairs with a pen for him, I launched into the bedroom and was immediately overcome by a rising sense of warmth.  I can only imagine how it looked to him to have a mad woman run into the bedroom and strip off her jumper!

I am at the age where, my sudden bursts of warmth are treated with pity, concern and advice on which drugs help the best.  I don't really mind being occasionally warm.  It's new for me and it's good to experience new things.

So, I started to wonder if these sheep; huge communities of females with oestrogen fluctuation, experience hot flushes.  If they do then they can't suddenly take their woolly jumpers off, or fan themselves with whatever piece of paper is closest to hand.  They might appreciate the odd tree or two to cool down under.

Own Worst Enemy

Last week I had a day when I woke at 3am with a migraine, threw up and was still in work by 10am for a choir lesson I had to take. A colleague asked me what I was doing coming in and I reminded her that it's what we do. This, and catching up on the first three episodes of Tough Young Teachers have made me think about how teachers are their own worst enemies.

Tough Young Teachers is a programme that I was aware of from Facebook and Twitter, as it seems to have provoked a range of emotions in it's audience, almost all negative. I hadn't watched it before because it clashes with Pathologists Pretending to be Policemen, which I can't miss.  I was surprised at the negative reactions to it, though.  I thought it was funny.  I think children and teachers are inately funny and the casting was brilliant.  They managed to get Jack Whitehall to play an RE teacher and then there was the chap with the Scottish accent that pretended to be an American accent who ran off to the loo to cry and write a song. And the kids....well they are brilliant.

However, this is supposed to be real life and Charles is a real person training to be an RE teacher and not the imaginings of a comedy writing genius. The programme is following 6 graduates, as they embark on jumping the hurdles required to gain Qualified Teacher Status through Teach First.  They have had a 6 week intensive course to learn how to be a teacher and supposedly already know their subject really well having gained excellent degrees from good universities. 

The anger I've seen on social media, comes from teachers, parents and student's alike.  The trainee teachers were seen as useless jokes, the mentors were notably absent and unsupportive and the whole Teach First Programme seems not to be thought of as a good idea.  People want perfect teachers, who never make a mistake, who can turn every single student into a genius with the twitch of an eyebrow.  The social media world was happy to treat these trainees as though they were putting themselves forward as fully developed teachers who are the best examples of good practice rather than beginners who are learning how to do a job.  If we had a programme following trainee checkout operators at Tesco would there be as much anger at a person who couldn't find the code for a Mango?

There is chasm of difference between the public perception of the hours a teacher does to the hours teachers say they do. The public believe that teachers start at 9, finish at 3 and have holidays that would make anyone envious.  Teachers say they work,  ALL THE BLOODY TIME. The truth is probably somewhere in the middle but teachers only have themselves to blame.  Who makes a teacher come in at 7am and leave at 8pm?  They do it to themselves.  It's almost as if teachers are trying to prove to the world that the perception of them is wrong but they aren't helping themselves or their students.

The Tough Young Teachers say they are working 13 hour days at a minimum and some are working much more.  They say they are working weekends.  This is unsustainable.  What will they do when they get Qualified Teacher Status? Their workload won't suddenly decrease because they've handed in a portfolio.  They will be asked to take on more challenges, tutor groups, become head of year, be responsible for collating the data for their department to make sure every child is above average. What will they do if they suddenly decide they'd like a life or a family?

In truth, if students are failing (and I don't believe they are) then they should be working harder, not the teachers. I could advocate that teachers shouldn't be allowed to take work home, that they shouldn't be allowed in school before 8am and should be kicked out at 5 but I can hear teachers shouting at their computers, "That wouldn't be fair. How would we get it all done?"  If you told the teacher who marks each book with a half page comment on the bottom that they now just had to put a tick they would be upset and the teacher who spends all weekend planning wouldn't take kindly to being told they weren't allowed to do any more than the 2 1/2 hours they are allocated a week.  This might be a bit controversial but a lot of teachers secretly enjoy these things.  They secretly like to be busy, they like writing essays on the bottom of work, they like dreaming up exciting ways to present their favourite subject.  

Teachers probably aren't all working as hard as they say they are.  When I read something like this:

Photo from Classroom Secrets Facebook page

  I feel guilty. I don't work these kind of hours and then I start to get anxious that maybe I should, maybe I'm not good enough if I don't.  A few years ago a colleague and I were discussing a book written by a teacher, who then went on to get sacked and advise the conservative government (can't remember it's title).  We just didn't believe that she was putting in the hours she said she was or if she was then she was doing an awful lot of 'faffing' but that was a few years ago and I wonder if we could have the same conversation now? Teacher's can't admit to themselves or others that they are not working extremely long hours and it's getting worse.  It starts to become a kind of competition.  If your colleague says they have worked all weekend on their lesson plans you can't say, "I did mine in 5 minutes on the back of an envelope", even if you did and your lesson gets just as good result as theirs does.

I don't think the public are particularly impressed with these confessions of long hours either.  As a parent, I'd much rather my children were taught by people who have a life, eat proper food and get enough sleep.  It's time that teachers stopped trying to be super-human, claimed their lives back and were honest about it.  If it can't be done in the time then it shouldn't be.  

Dislaimer:  I say this, knowing that today I will spend the day doing some school paperwork, writing some music for my flute group, learning songs to teach the choir and planning exciting lessons, where we can fight with Boomwhackers, even though I work part time and today is my day off. And if you try to stop me I'll get very angry.

Mother of a 20 year old

January 1994

The children at school all agreed that I don't look old enough. "You're as old as you act: about six," they told me.

The problem with marking time in years in this way is that with each one that passes you feel as though you have less left. In a society that values youth over experience it can be easy to feel depressed at the thought of getting older but if I'm honest, I'm having much more fun now and when I look at my parents with their bridge parties, Ceilidh dancing, all the time in the world to read books and love of their grandchildren I think experience is probably better than youth. 

There have been birthdays in my life that I've not liked, like 29, 37 and 39; nothing years with no meaning. Twenty was one of those birthdays and my daughter seems to have inherited my dislike of this particular birthday. It is the end of your teenage years and the time when you feel that you should be grown up but being only half way through a degree there is no chance of true independence yet. The things she has to look forward to, though, are amazing.

She will travel, live in several places, possibly buy a house, decorate it several times, she will read loads, watch millions of films and plays and listen to hours of music, she might get married, have children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren, she will have jobs; some that excite her and some that bore her and, knowing her, she might even change the world.

 These odd birthdays should be those where we look forward to the wonderful possibilities ahead of us, rather than mourning the loss of a childhood or youth. 

Rambling

I like a good walk. The rambler's website is full of good ideas of where to walk, often including pub advice and the dog and I will often set off on a Sunday morning for a long tramp in the woods.

The question of what to wear is often difficult. In the Summer it's hot, so you wear shorts and a tiny top, cursing the nettles and brambles that scratch at your legs. In the winter there is the collection of waterproof outer garments and jumpers that keep you warm and dry but also make you a bit sweaty and uncomfortable when the weather changes.  Footwear is always my biggest challenge. So, I was very interested to watch the programme about the naked rambler.

I was hoping for tips on how to avoid nettle stings but what we saw was that long tramp you hope you'll never meet in the woods, just in case you can't decide where to look. It was gripping viewing (not because I like looking at wrinkled naked men) but because it told us a lot about our society and it's priorities. This man has been arrested countless times and has spent 6 years in prison, much of it in solitary confinement. This is in a world where abusers and rapists walk free, where past allegations can't be taken into account for the current case. I got quite 'Daily Mail' at the waste of tax payers money on perusing this washed up old hippy who thinks of himself as a modern day Jesus, with better shoes and no miracles. Yes, he does wear shoes;  walking boots with good socks which makes me think that nettle stings are easier to cope with than blisters. I'm sure if they just left him alone he'd get bored and cold and put some clothes on but maybe not and really, who cares? It turns out that occasionally people did care and thought that it was the same as Jimmy Saville and paedophillia, although I suspect these are the same people that buy the Sun to stare at the naked sexual parts of women. 

He isn't a particularly likeable man. He's selfish and inconsiderate; walking past a school at 3.15 without making adjustments seemed crass but he didn't seem dangerous. There were no threats, no violence just his body, swinging free in the fresh air. He was so wrapped up in himself and his 'journey' that other people really don't feature for him. He is stubborn, hasn't  seen his children in years and has embarrassed his mother beyond belief. His ex-wife (she was ex before he started walking) said, "I don't think anyone thought it would get to this. They couldn't believe that given the choice between 'put some clothes on'and 'go into solitary confinement' he'd choose prison." He says it's about freedom. 

He might have a point. I don't know or care but I do want to stop putting him in prison. Say what you like about him, though, you have to admire his balls.

Am I Boring You?

The question of whether I'm boring is one that has often passed through my consciousness.  I mean, no one wants to be boring, do they?

But people are boring.  They only have a limited number of stories and they tell them over and over again.  They have things that interest them and topics they will talk about to the exclusion of all others.  When I was growing up my Dad used to say of someone (although I can't remember who), "That man could bore for England," and I would think that he must be exceptionally talented at boring.  I wondered who would judge the Boring Olympics because it would probably be difficult to find a judge who wasn't boring themselves.    Being bored can suddenly sneak up on you, as it did on me last Wednesday for absolutely no reason at all. You can be doing something interesting, talking to someone who is saying something new and exciting and all of a sudden you feel bored.  What you shouldn't do, is express your boredom out loud and I do apologise to my friend who had done nothing to cause me to suddenly say, "I'm bored!"

Generally, I quite like boring things and being bored can be good for you and make you create something.  I've always enjoyed reading a telephone directory or listening to conversations that without context are extremely dull.  This is one I heard in the High Street today:
Man:  I'm a very strange individual
Woman: Really?
Man:  Yes, once someone upsets me I never talk to them again.
Woman:  Oh dear.
Man:  He runs that club really badly.  I go in and say hello and no one even acknowledges you are there.
Woman:  Maybe you upset them.

I like Facebook and Twitter and most of that is incredibly boring, especially the people moaning about other people's boring statuses.  I frequently post about the weather and I know people who put a picture of their dinner on Facebook every night.  It's the boring stuff that makes a life.

However, liking boring stuff and knowing that being bored is no bad thing doesn't stop me being slightly offended when someone implies that I am boring.  As a teacher, you do everything you can to make interesting lessons.  You want to engage children, so that what you are trying to teach them goes into their heads and stays there.  On Friday, I was really looking forward to teaching a lesson that I thought would be exciting, fun and hopefully memorable.  I woke up, not being able to wait to teach the class, knowing that I was going to use a Grade 1 Piano piece (about my level of playing) called Saturday Stomp and change it to be Saxon Stomp (Invaders and Settlers topic).  The children were going have Boomwhackers to 'sword fight' in time to the music.

 I thought the children were really enjoying the lesson, apart from one bashed eye they had taken on the role of Saxons, practising their fighting and they were all in time.  They were so good we decided to add some words to the tune.  We sang, "We're Saxons, we're Saxons, we're Saxons and we're brave!" My afternoon had been fantastic and I was just beginning to congratulate myself on a great lesson when one of the children excitedly came up to me.  "We've made up some new words to the song," she said.  I couldn't wait to hear them as she has always seemed to really enjoy her music lessons and she couldn't wait to tell me.  "We sang, 'We're Children, we're children, we're children and we're bored!'"

Well that told me then!

What a Boob

When you are Chief Procrastinator of the United Kingdom, as I am, you will always be able to find something to do, rather than the thing you should be doing.  Most people, have one thing, something that they will revert to doing; their main passion.  The Long Suffering Husband will watch a film and my son does maths (he has tried really hard to revise for his mocks but always ends up accidentally doing maths, which is a shame as he doesn't have a maths mock).

I have prided myself on the fact that I have a diverse range of thoughts and activities to divert me but I am beginning to suspect that I have found my thing.  It is beginning to worry me, though.  If my thing was music, or cake, or books, or digging then I wouldn't need to be ashamed but I think my thing might be boobs.

I spent a whole day considering how my breasts spoilt the line of my beads.  I focused too much energy on how my new improved posture was making my chest enter a room three days before I did. At the weekend, I decided that I was probably wearing the wrong bra size, so I thought I'd give buying a new one another go.  I now have every size bra from 32-38 and B-F cup.  I stood in Marks and Spencer changing room being assured by the assistant that this one was definitely the right size.  I asked why it was so different from the last time I was fitted and she said, "We've only just started stocking your size. We didn't have bras for big skinny women before so we went up a couple of band sizes and down a couple of cup sizes."  This is exactly what used to happen to me in Clark's shoe shop when I was a child.  They would say, "We don't have any in such a narrow width fitting so we'll go down a size."  I ended up with hammer toes and so I'm now a bit concerned about possible deformity to my bosom.

Today, I've mostly spent the whole day trying to decide if my new bra hurts or whether it fits perfectly. It looks like it fits.  I know, I've looked several times today. I've also gone to take it off every half hour since half past ten this morning and then decided to give it a whole day. I have this dream that one day I'll have a bra that I can wear all day without even noticing that I'm wearing it but maybe I just have a boob obsession that will cause me to think about whatever I'm wearing.

That's what I call Customer Service

Apple products cost a lot of money but you purchase them with a level of customer service that is unbeaten.  My charging lead for my i-phone has stopped charging.  I could have got quite upset and demanded a new one because the lead is really bad designed.  It is almost impossible to remove the charging lead without pulling on the chord, due to the tiny adapter that is very difficult to get a good grip on, causing the wires to disconnect. However, I decided not to make a fuss but to just go and buy a new one (and try to be more careful with it)

I walked into the shop and went straight to the till with the new lead.  The man asked, "Did you need any help with that?"

I looked at him, looked at the box, looked back at him, scratched my head and said, "it's a really tiny box."
He appeared confused.
There was an awkward moment of silence.
"Were you able to choose the product for yourself or did you need help?" he clarified.
"Oh, she thought you were offering to carry it to the car for her," said the Long Suffering Husband.

Now, that would have been good Customer Service.

Licenced to Kill

I was going to write a blog about my difficulty with beads but the latest announcement by Labour on education has changed my mind.  I will, however, give you a clip from the beginning of Thoroughly Modern Millie and a photo, which explains my bead problem perfectly.

Thoroughly Modern Millie Opening Credits

The Long Suffering Husband came into the room, as I was contemplating my bead problem and said, "What are they? Dogs ?"  He was furious at the idea of teachers having to be 'licenced'. He felt it implied that teachers were less than human. He is, obviously concerned that I might lose the job I love doing if Labour gets voted in at the next parliament. (I'm not so worried. I can always do something else) but he was more concerned for the individual people who had educated our children.

Licence is such a terrible word.  A licence is required for things that are dangerous.  We have a licence to drive a car because it is too easy to kill with a car if you don't know what you're doing; dogs were licenced because an untrained, uncontrolled dog could kill and you need a licence to own a gun for similarly obvious reasons.   In the UK, Doctors are given a licence to practise but a doctor who doesn't know what they're doing can kill someone. I could be wrong but I don't think teachers kill; even really bad teachers are no threat to life.

By suggesting that teachers need to be licenced the Labour party are implying that teachers are dangerous, that the education of a child is the sole responsibility of the teacher and a child who doesn't reach an average level is a danger to society.  Let's not buy into this idea.  We know that teachers are only part of what happens in a child's education.  We know that parents, friends, clubs, TV, video games and many other things in society shape what our children learn.  I follow a wonderful blog of a mother, whose child has a particular syndrome that requires her to have a special education, who wrote recently about how she knows better about the books her child wants to read than her teachers or the education authority.   http://livingwithrettsyndrome.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/no-to-the-very-busy-spider-just-no.html . This parent constantly makes brilliant choices for her child, as do parents all over the country and equally there will be parents who make less good choices.  School isn't the most important thing for lots of people.

  Until recently, the licence for Doctors, granted by the General Medical Council, was for life.  Since, 2012 doctors now need to re-validate their licence every 5 years, which is done via regular appraisals with their employer.  Tristam Hunt announced that teachers will need to be re-licenced every two years.  Oh, God, teachers are more likely to kill someone than doctors! They didn't say exactly how teachers are to be licenced, or re-licenced and if it is through regular appraisals with their employer then teachers have nothing to fear because all teachers have a performance management appraisal at least once a year and are observed teaching by their senior management and peers more often.  Teaching is a constant challenge of trying to be better.  However, we all know that this is not what they mean.  They mean time out of a classroom, time at college or time being assessed by an outside government authority, like Ofsted.  Do any of these things help the children?  

Tristram Hunt said that this process would make it easier to sack bad teachers.  I'm quite confused about this.  Where are all these bad teachers? And what exactly are they doing that is so terrible?  I learnt a lot from teachers who would be considered to be failures by today's standards. Even good teachers are leaving the profession because the pressures and workload are too great and I just can't believe the bad teachers are staying.

He also said, "If you're not a motivated teacher - passionate about your subject, passionate about being in the classroom - then you really have no business being a teacher."  Maybe this is true.  The teachers I know are passionate and motivated but they also have bad days and are occasionally forced to teach a subject that they are not fully committed to.  That's normally, surely?   Primary school teachers can't be passionate about every subject.  He compares them to doctors and lawyers and implies that they are equivalent professions but while medical practitioners earn  an average of £69K pa  and lawyers earn  an average of £70k, the average teacher's salary is £32K pa.  (Figures from thisismoney.co.uk).  Metal plate workers and riveters have a similar annual salary, I wonder if they are have no business holding a welding tool if they don't have 100% passion and commitment.

Michael Gove, should be a gift to a shadow education secretary.  Teachers, parents and students hate him equally: all those voters that could be won over and instead he has chosen to further demonise teachers.  If this idea ever does get passed and if by some fluke I ever manage to get licensed, then I'm going to have cards printed that say:

Julia of All Trades

Music Teacher

Licenced to Kill.

I think I'll add the picture of my bead problem, just to let everyone know just how serious this is.

Too simple?

I'm sitting here, feeling really clever because I knew a few answers on University Challenge.  Admittedly, one of the answers was my home town but it's enough to make me feel really clever.  We all love knowing the right answer to something but does knowing something make you intelligent?

Politicians like to think they're smarter than the rest of us.  I'd quite like to see a Politician version of University Challenge but I don't need the politician I vote for to know more stuff than anyone else.  I want her or him to be able to think, to understand the problems that people face, to find creative solutions, whilst being honest and truthful.  Is that too simple?

There have been some really scary surveys recently about how unlikely young people are to vote.  When they are interviewed they say things like, "It makes no difference,"  and "You can't trust them anyway."  They don't say, "The Politicians don't know enough stuff."

If there was anything more likely to put me off voting it would be the current argument the politicians are having about World War 1.  There is a big spat to see who knows 'the truth' about the war.  It is interesting how it all started.  Michael Gove was on Radio 4's Start the Week , being rather Govish about the teaching of History. In his opinion, there is stuff about History that is true; stuff you have to know; an order to History that is important (Greeks before Romans!) and as his children are too stupid to understand any of that unless it is taught in a certain way then all children have to be taught in that way.  I've probably oversimplified but who cares?  If you do then you can listen to it for yourself here:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b03mcmwx.

Michael Gove looking quite simple

After Andrew Marr had got a bit upset that his guests weren't arguing more they started to discuss the First World War.  With the centenary of the war coming up countries and governments across Europe are discussing how to commemorate or celebrate (that seems like the wrong word to me) this anniversary.  I can see why it's important to not forget this piece of history and try to get the most accurate stories about the events written down now that 100 years after the event the people who were there at the time have gone.  Mr Gove, seemed quite insistent that there were some stories about this war that were just not right; that were dreamed up by lefties and Bolsheviks; that missed the point that it was all Germany's fault and that we as the master-race of English people put it all right. He was particularly upset by the most important Historical study of the era, Blackadder.  His words were then lifted for a Daily Mail article and again if I've oversimplified and you want to read it for yourself then you can read it here:  http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2532930/MICHAEL-GOVE-Why-does-Left-insist-belittling-true-British-heroes.html.

Tristram Hunt also looking a bit simple

Michael Gove's opposite number in the labour party, shadow education secretary, Tristram Hunt (who does actually have a Phd in History, rather than a box set of Blackadder shows) felt he had to reply and show the world that he knows the most stuff about this era of History.  In the Guardian, he wrote that Mr Gove's attempt to use this period of history to wage a political war was just not cricket.  He went on to say that it might be a little more complicated than 'it was all the Germans fault.' I did think it was a bit hypocritical to say that Gove wasn't allowed to make the war a political battle and then spend half of his own article saying how the Socialists had reacted to the war.  Again, probably oversimplified and if you want to read it for yourself it;s here: http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2014/jan/04/first-world-war-michael-gove-left-bashing-history

Boris Johnson giving a masterclass on looking simple.

Then today, Boris Johnson has joined the spat.  He has to prove he knows the right answers about the war.  I don't know if he managed that but he did prove that he is a brilliant writer and should have never given up journalism for politics.  http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/politics/10552336/Germany-started-the-Great-War-but-the-Left-cant-bear-to-say-so.html  He seems to think that Tristam Hunt should resign for getting it wrong.  The Germans did start the war and to deny it to stop 'Kraut bashing' is a sackable offence.

It is entirely possible that all of these politicians have it right.  A war that lasted 4 years 2 months and 13 days that affected millions of people will have many his-stories and her-stories attached to it.  Some will seem false from another person's perspective but it doesn't make it any less of a truth to the person who witnessed it or wrote it down.  

It just doesn't matter, either.  Politicians shouldn't be sacked for knowing or not knowing stuff about History or having beliefs that are different from anyone else.  They shouldn't really have time to write articles for the Mail, Guardian or Telegraph.  They are paid at least £66,000 a year to try to make our lives better and this current spat does nothing to improve anyone's life.

Secret Lives of Teachers

I wish I'd known more about my primary school teachers.

When I started working in a primary school I discovered that teachers at this level are quite interesting people.  Some have unusual passions and interests. The idea that there is more to a person than they present on the surface is always one that has interested me but this seems even more exciting when you think about primary school teachers. They have a carefully crafted image.  They are sweet, kind, encouraging and they work, oh so hard, that they never get time to do anything but mark books and complete paperwork.  The inner life, however, could be far more interesting.

I'm sure this is true for all teachers but primary school teachers are different.  Most senior teachers did a degree in the subject they then went on to teach.  At senior school, my two maths teachers called Smith both did Maths degrees.  One was tall and slim, read the Guardian, and was in his University rowing team and was impressed by my extensive Baroque music repetoire and the other was short and fat, read the Sun, played rugby and taught me lots of rude songs when we rehearsed in the staff/pupil choir.  My drama teacher did a drama degree, worked in the theatre for a while before teaching and then became a woman and had to stop teaching.  My music teacher went to music college for his degree, played the flute and piano, had a wife and two lovely children (contrary to the rumours that he only liked men) and could play his flute standing on his head (literally - a great party trick).  My teachers at senior school were no mystery.  Odd but not mysterious.

Some primary school teachers' degrees are in primary education but most did a degree in something interesting first .  I know dancers, artists, geologists, actors, writers, journalists, psychologists, people with degrees in business management to name a few.  Yesterday, however, I discovered from a facebook picture that one of my colleagues is actually a mermaid!  I shouldn't have been surprised because she knows a lot about the sea and sea creatures, is beautiful with long blond hair but I had just assumed the beauty to be a co-incidence and her knowledge of the sea to be from a degree in marine biology.

In the Infants I had a teacher called Mrs Jones.  I thought Mrs Jones was as boring as her name, only reading Janet and John books  and counting up to 10.  She was, however, an expert on spots.  If any child in the school had a single spot they would be taken to Mrs Jones for inspection.  Thinking now, maybe Mrs Jones had a degree in microbiology and grew secret cultures of mould and viruses, which she would test out on the children.  My other infant teacher's name escapes me and all I can remember about her was that she was obsessed with safety.  She taught us about making sure ladders were straight, wearing seat belts in the correct way (even in the back seat of the car - unheard of in the 70s) and wearing a cycle helmet (how we laughed at her).  Maybe, though, she knew about all of this because she had a reason to be familiar with safety equipment.  Maybe she was a secret daredevil, who abseiled down tall buildings or walked tightropes.  My first Junior school teacher would keep us quiet by taking out and putting back in her contact lenses. It was gross and we loved it.  I remember her as a quiet mousy woman but normal people didn't wear contact lenses in 1973 so she must have been a model!  

How could I have missed all of this?

Beautiful Patterns

You watched Sherlock, right? Of course you did. Everyone did. You'd waited 2 years to find out if you were right. You saw him jump, you saw the body, you saw all the people confirm his death but you also saw him at his own funeral and you have your own ideas about how but now you want to know.

I'm still chuckling about it this morning. The author didn't know! He wrote that it happened but that was it. He wrote it, stepped back and watched the internet make up the answers for him. Then he wrote some of the blog and twitter answers into yesterday's episode, making it so ambiguous that anyone who had a different answer could have been right too. You think he told you it was about a bungee rope, a mattress, a cyclist, a well placed ambulance station, an imposdibly young doe-eyed female doctor. But did he? He left you with the mad man and his post it notes saying, "You wouldn't have told me if that was the truth!"

I am in awe. We have so much to learn about life and art (probably the same thing in my opinion but don't tell the scientists) from Stephen Moffat. There aren't any right answers. All answers are possible or not possible. Our job and reason for being is just to make the links, however obscure. In fact, those people who can make links that others can't are getting even more out of life. We have brains that see patterns where none exist and we enjoy finding patterns no one has seen before.

Ink Blot Test

 Beautiful poetry can be made by stringing unusual words together.

Between the cushion of sky

On top of a paperchain of fields

Over a Christmas Cake of rain

Against a stripy sock of  forest

Next to a chess set of sunshine

Except the dog night.

This possibly isn't an example of beautiful poetry but I just wanted to try it.

http://anthonywilsonpoetry.com/2013/10/25/lifesaving-poems-underneath-the-mathematics-of-time/

Art becomes beautiful if it allows for many different interpretations.

Stravinsky pushed the boundaries of music byusing 12 tones,  making it atonal but there is still a pattern. Vi Hart explains this beautifully here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4niz8TfY794

So, I've finally come up with a New Year's Resolution to top last year's list. This year I am going to be beautiful. I'm making no plans, deciding on no pattern but instead I'm just going to create the life that happens, no matter how weird or unusual and I'm going to let others find the pattern in it.