Loving School Holidays

The problem with being a teacher is that you never really grow up.  At the beginning of the school holidays teachers all over the country are staying in their pyjamas so that they don't have to go out.  They sit on the sofa, watching films, reading books and munching chocolate.  Then, a few days later, they realise that they are grown-ups and that they can still have a life if they are not going to school.

I find that time acts in the most peculiar way when not working to a school timetable.

Despite waking at 5.30am, as usual, I didn't manage to get out of bed until 11.30.  Walking the dog took hours too.  With nowhere to be at a certain time I could just walk until I ached and with my secateurs in my pocket I came home with a selection of branches to deck the hall with.  

Flower arranging isn't a skill I possess but it's one of those things that I always think I should be able to do.  I mean, how hard can it be to shove some branches into a block of green foam?  

It isn't that hard but it took forever.  I made a centrepiece for the the dining room table.

A mistletoe and Ivy ball to hang from the ceiling.

And a display for the top of the mantelpiece from the bits we cut off the bottom of the Christmas tree and some supermarket roses.

My efforts aren't entirely appreciated.  The long suffering husband has already complained of banging his head on the mistletoe ball and has said that the mantelpiece now looks like Beechers Brook.

When I finally checked the clock it was gone 8 and I realised that I was meant to be going out for drinks with work colleagues at 7.  I'm sure they will have a great time without me and I get to go back to bed.