The Lost Rant

It's been a while since I've had a good rant, which is a surprise, as there is so much to rant about. I avoided getting ranty about the press coverage of the England football team or lack thereof. None of the silly things Nicky Morgan had said about how studying arts subjects limit choices were worth commenting on.  I didn't share my view of what a world with only engineers and mathmaticians would look like. The supposed double standards of the Hope Solo case (because no male footballer has got away with beating his girlfriend and still been treated like a hero, right?) didn't get me reaching for my pen (or more accurately keyboard). The Beyoncé video , similarly failed to draw me in although I would be very scared if I were her accountant. What is wrong with me? Where has all my rant gone?  It all started with the election, choosing the next Labour Party leader and with yesterday's budget I've decided that I'm just too sad about how selfish the world has become to comment. So instead I sing.

And I make everyone else sing.

The children I work with sing and make me want to burst with pride.

The Long Suffering Husband sings me bits of unidentifiable song and says, "you know that one?"

My son sings his way through his day. This morning he sang, "Two more days then two days off, two more days then two days off!" There is a particularly fetching dance that goes with this and anyone who knows me will know that I'm partial to choreographing songs.

Even the dog sings, although the least said about that, the better.

My misery has got so bad that I've even started making inanimate objects 

sing. The whole house is beginning to join in. No longer is it just the rhythmical click of the drain pipes as they cool from a day in the sun, or the toaster singing, "Toast, just a little piece of toast," when it pops. No longer content with oven contentedly humming, "I'm cooking your dinner and it's going to be great!" ; the tap percussively saying, "Drip, drop turn me off,"; the floorboards squeaking, "Help me, heeeeeelllllp meeeeee."; the toilet has now decided to join in. I've yet to work out exactly what the toilet is singing but I know it's not happy. It starts at a slightly flat Eb, which it finally manages to get in tune by a final modulation. It reminds me of the Lost Chord. 'Seated one day at my organ, I was weary and ill at ease.' The toilet is composing a protest song and who can blame it? The world needs more protest songs now, especially since my rant has gone missing.

I'm worried that I might be sounding even more bonkers than usual. Never mind.

It is only a few days until the end of term, isn't it?