The end of the school year

 Greetings Friends!

I hope you are healthy, contented and safe and thank you for visiting today.

Well, I have had a busy week or so, having finished school last Wednesday, the 21st July and travelled up to Northumberland on the train the next morning.

The last 2 weeks of term was sad and happy at the same time with a few challenges.

The penultimate week of term, I was lucky enough to be involved in the only school trip of the year.  Our local borough's Music hub had applied for funding from the recovery fund to run a Year 6 singing festival and we applied to participate.  It meant we had 3 singing teachers coming into our school for the last half term once a week to teach the 90 year 6 children a set of songs that they would perform at a local theatre. If it wasn't for restriction changes and rising Covid numbers, it would have been several schools performing together (but with social distancing in place) at the theatre though on stage at different times with an opportunity for parents to watch. In this case, it was just OUR school in the theatre for a morning session.  We teachers were SO excited to be going on a trip, as were the children (with a few reluctant singers being a bit unenthusiastic about going) and set off on the coach.  I had to tell off the child who moaned, "Ugh, why do we have the trash coach?" and called him ungrateful and asked what he expected of a school trip that he had to pay absolutely nothing for, the only trip in the entire year and asked if he fancied paying an additional £800+ for all of us.  Honestly, not sure what a 'fancy' coach would look like.  Hope he doesn't make that mistake of saying that in my hearing again!  

We set off and arrived at the theatre! We lined the children up outside the theatre and I felt a lump in my throat to be here at a theatre and to have taken the opportunity that was offered to us.  This theatre is one that I have performed at throughout my whole life- I saw my first performance there, "Princess Ida", sang in my first musical there 'The Happy Prince' and then 'Finian's Rainbow, played my first main part there, Agnes in "Meet me in St Louis", played my first gig in the orchestra pit, "Let's make an opera" by Benjamin Britten and played for my first paid gig, "The Magic Flute" by Mozart. I was SO happy to be there.

I took my designated class (their class teacher was off sick) into the studio and the kids had a rehearsal with their vocal coach.  We then got the kids changed into their special t-shirts (they got these as part of the performance!) and took them to sit in the auditorium.  There was a live band and the Musical Director, Lighting team, a compere and a professional camera crew who were going to film the performance to stream for the parents later on.  The children sang several songs together and then one class at a time went onto the stage to perform their own special songs they'd been rehearsing with their coaches.

The whole thing was SO professionally done and the kids were having a WHALE of a time.  Certain children were chosen as soloist to stand at the front with microphones whilst the rest were on tiering staging with the band behind them at a distance. Every single one sang their hearts out and we were all astonished and touched by the passion with which the special soloists did their bit.  We all actually shed a tear and were having a whale of a time cheering them on! The children behaved impeccably and I hope this is a life experience they would never forget! I know I was super impressed with them and thankful for the opportunity.  The other teachers said it made their year.  After that, we were all given a packed lunch in a brown paper bag.  My class were all given the recycling lecturer and told what they had to do with each separate element in their bag to ensure it was recycled and those who don't have home recycling gave theirs to me.  They all took it good naturedly- they are used to me by now and there are a few who care a lot about it too.   I asked the kids who had been reluctant to go if I had proved them wrong and they'd enjoyed it and they relented and said, "Yes," it had been really fun! We got on the coach and went back to school where I had about 15minutes before I had to go and take my last class of the day, a year 5 class who were performing their own fanfares.

After school, I had A, a flute player, come to my room for a final flute lesson.  He's not my pupil, he has a flute teacher but he was auditioning to get into the band at the local music hub and I've been giving him some extra support to ensure he gets in.  (The previous week, I'd given him 1/2 an hour before school and an hour after school and he'd then gone home and done 1.5 hours practice to consolidate what I'd worked on which made my time all the more worth it.  The next day, he'd come in for another 20 minute session before school and learnt all his scales from memory and learnt his piece.).  We practised together and then I sent him on his way with my spare flute as his had a little leak on one of the keys.  I am happy to say that I had an email yesterday to say he was successful in his audition!

The penultimate Friday, my Head teacher allowed me to get the school orchestra kids together to do a final rehearsal and to film them playing for their parents. I am SO gutted to lose them- they have been the most brilliant, dedicated team of children and I am so sad they didn't get to do a proper concert. At least I was allowed to do that though!

Another fun activity that penultimate week was doing a lesson on 2 of  Benjamin Britten's sea interludes from his opera, Peter Grimes (Dawn and The Storm) , the children seem to loved the pieces and since they are such evocative pieces, really get a lot out of listening to them.

I had chat with my newish work colleague and weirdly discovered that although our ages are 10 years apart:

a) we went to the same music school.

b) had the same flute teacher

c) went to the same teacher training college (no one else in my school I've ever met trained there)

d) went to the same undergraduate university.

The final week, the Monday was difficult was my room was like a furnace with the hot weather!   I don't want to moan about the good weather because we've had our fair share of rotten weather but unfortunately, my music room is one that does not fare well in the warm weather. Unfortunately, my room only has 3 small high up windows which don't open far and allow no breeze and the room for 30 children to sit in is pretty small and the open door, whilst letting in fresh air, didn't make the slightest bit of difference to the temperature and the aircon is broken so it was pretty disgusting in there and got progressively sweatier and smellier throughout the day.  However, we managed to get through all our lessons intact.

The Tuesday was a quiet day as half the class in all my lessons were away because of Eid.  However, I had a lovely final session with my year 6 classes, giving them a brief introduction to Javanese Gamelan.

My musos in my favourite class hung around at playtime to chat as they are sad to leave me as I am sad to leave them.

The final day, I spent some of the morning sorting out my room but also delivering messages to the year 6's for their leavers books which I'd written for them.  The kids were really sweet and several told me how much they liked what I'd written. I had lots of visitors bringing me presents and some really sweet messages.  We had a final leavers assembly for Year 6 where they sang (and we filmed) the new song that I and one of the year 6 teachers had co-written for them (lyrics by him, melody and accompaniment by me)- this is going to be our school song every year for Leavers.

Around 12pm, my friend Lara arrived to do the tuning and repairs on our school pianos (at the same time as the Music Hub arrived to collected our cornets).  Annoyingly, I ended up having to accompany her in the hall and I ended up not getting to say a final goodbye to the kids in the playground as the hall clock was wrong!

At 2pm, all staff headed out to eat a lunch provided outside by the SLT and then we had speeches for those staff who were leaving.

Everyone was leaving at this point to go to the pub but I had to go and finish tidying and cleaning my room, esp as I'd lost an hour and a half having to stay in the hall. Lara was still doing the piano repairs.  Finally, around 4.45pm, she had finished and I had finished so we piled all my stuff into her Mini and she drove me home (yes, I was slightly devious booking her for the end of term which made the usual effort of getting presents home soooo much easier!). It was lovely for us both as she had company on the boring drive home and I didn't have to grapple with public transport. She came into the garden and we had a couple of cups of tea and cake and a good chinwag.   I was also able to pass on a whole load of boxes and packaging for her crochet business.

After this, as always I delayed the inevitable hated task of packing  till Stupid o'clock. Of course I did sixty billion other pointless jobs first, like shell peas and rationalise the gift bag collection!

Finally finished packaging at around 1.20am and went to bed.  

I woke up at 6.15am and got up to do the washing up, water the garden and finish packing etc.

I booked a taxi for 9.30am to the station and set off for my first trip on the train up to London for a year and a half. I wore a mask AND a visor and luckily, chose a time that was quite quiet on both the train AND the Tube train.

Unfortunately, had a bit of an altercation with an anti-vaxxer on the first train.  She got on at Stratford. I was absorbed in my book and it wasn't until I heard a ripping sound. I looked up and saw a screwed up 'Do not use this seat' sticker next to her.  I frowned, wondering if she had just ripped the sticker off and why. This blonde girl (could have been 15-25 years old) was sitting there and she said,"Look at you, you don't have to wear the mask and yet you are doing it. It's so sad that you are being controlled."  

I replied that I didn't mind wearing the mask, it didn't bother me at all. "But you're being controlled."

"But I know people who have died from Covid and I want to protect people and it doesn't harm me" I responded.

"I know people who have died from Cancer in the last year!" she retorted.

"Have you read the leaflet?" she asked. I looked down and noticed these white leaflets had appeared on the seats around.  I glanced at it and saw it was all about being anti vaccinating children. She then started ranting about vaccines. At which point I said, "Stop, I'm sorry but I don't agree and I don't want to talk to you about this."

"You're so closed minded, just like so many people. You don't want to listen to other people." she angrily responded.

"I'm not closed minded. I read your leaflet but I think vaccines are important. People are still dying of Covid" I calmly replied.

"Well, my friend died of cancer and they put the death down as Covid. Don't make conversation if you don't want to discuss it" she responded.

"You started the conversation, I didn't," I said. "I just looked up to see what the ripping sound was."

I sat fuming in my seat, wishing I didn't feel so scared and shaky talking about it to this stranger and angry at being called closed-minded when she was probably some stupid anti-vaxxer with no qualification to be talking about this.

As I got up to get out at Liverpool street I decided to say something.

"I just want to say, if you want to win people over to your cause, you shouldn't insult people" I told her.

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it. And then you're coming at me saying I'm rude. I'm not rude, I told you you were entitled to your opinion. Don't come at me saying I'm rude," she angrily responded (some other people were now standing near me.)

"I'm not coming at you. If I were you and someone said they didn't want to talk, I would not have insulted them, I would have said, "Sorry to have disturbed you and please could you take the time to read the leaflet as I think it's really important."  Just a thought." I replied.

As I went to get the Circle line (happily quiet), I really felt shaken and nervous at having had this conversation.

The journey to King's Cross was fine. I went to get my Newcastle train and was in the first carriage- first class. It was wonderful as I had a set of 4 sets round a table to myself, despite the train being pretty full.  My ticket was HIDEOUSLY expensive last minute and it was the last one available on most trains.

First class was superb though.  Everyone wore their masks and I was brought a bacon roll, a can of lemonade and several cups of tea at times and then crisps and a Brownie later on. The train was about 15minutes delayed which meant I missed my Hexham connection and had to wait 25minutes on a platform but it had been a really smooth journey which had felt safe in terms of distancing at all times despite my anti-vaxxer incident and I arrived safely to Hexham where CBC came and picked me up.

More on my Hexham activities soon.

Hope you are well!

xx

Whatsapp versus phoning?

I wonder where you sit upon the following issue.

Some of my friends and family take great umbrage that I am not on Whatsapp.  They say to me, "I could stay in touch with you better if you were on Whatsapp. I could send you photos and regular messages."

My archaic phone, once upon a time, DID have Whatsapp but as is the way, they send you a message saying that "This operating system will stop supporting Whatsapp by blah blah a date."
I've therefore not had Whatsapp for a couple of years.

When making plans, I always want to phone the person and speak to them about making plans, whereas it seems the norm for everyone else, even when only one or two people are involved is to do it on Whatsapp.

I get that Whatsapp is useful for making group plans, e.g. a music group, a family who wants to get together, meaning that everyone gets the message at the same time, but is it stopping us from talking? Is it causing procrastination? Is it stopping us from committing to something in the moment and trying to give us an 'escape clause?' from having to socialise?

I do like reading CBC's Whatsapp chats from his family and it is a great way to share photos. But is it a place for meaningful communication?
Do we even want meaningful communication or do we prefer surface level conversation?

I know there have been bullying incidents in school from Whatsapp and other group communication apps.

I've spoken to several friends and family and they say, "I prefer to send people a Whatsapp (or text) so I don't disturb them." and "I rarely phone people now." when catching up with someone.

But when did we start worrying about 'disturbing' our friends?  Surely, if they are friends, we can say, "Oh sorry, it's not a good time," and no one will object?
The trouble is, Whatsapp needs you to have a Data/Wifi connection, to have your phone close-by, ready to look at any moment for this to happen.

Also, you can't rely on everyone getting the message in time or replying in time, thus resulting in hanging around for a reply.  I prefer to phone because I will then get an instant answer or at least know the person is more likely to hear the phone and give me an answer.
Take the case of Sunday.  CBC and his brother were communicating by Whatsapp about meeting for a walk.  Everyone was being a bit lazy about getting up and CBC said, "I don't think it's going to happen."  He therefore took a leisurely approach to the morning.

All of sudden, he said, "Ahrgh, T is on a train to x!".  T had sent a Whatsapp saying he was on his way out to Essex and CBC had gone downstairs, made himself coffee, breakfast, was ironing shirts for school. A frantic scramble ensued because T had assumed CBC was at the end of the phone.

Is Whatsapp a lazy way to stay in touch? You don't really have to engage with the person properly to use it?   Or do you?
It seems useful for example because my sister and I hardly talk anymore because she is always busy boxing, running, working, looking after my niece and I've stopped trying to phone so much because it feels like I never choose a good time to call?    Would it be worth getting Whatsapp to at least have a regular way of communication with her? That said, I miss our chats on the phone we used to have.

Over to you?  How do you feel about this?

x

The next train is ALWAYS delayed

Little rant here, headed your way. On my way to work, the train I am aiming for is ALWAYS ridiculously prompt- as in, it arrives before it should get there.  As have all the ones prior this one from what I see on the train app.  I, have missed the train by mere seconds consistently every day for about 2 week.  And yet, the next train- the consolation prize, so to speak, is ALWAYS late.  Always, really late. Sometimes it has been 20minutes late, sometimes only about 5 minutes. But every time, it means I miss my connection at the interchange station and I end up being much later.
It did it on the way home today too. I arrived at the interchange in reverse and the next train had arrived on the platform a minute early. I dashed as best as possible with my folded bike, rucksack, heavy pannier and not much energy and missed it. The doors shut early. And yet, the train, due 10 minutes later was 5 minutes late.  The same happened to CBC on the way to work this morning too.

In the grand scheme of life (like things beginning with B which are making most people I know miserable today or the plastic and climate crisis,) and reliable train services, it's not a big thing.
But...

It is most vexing.

Act as if what you do makes a difference

I saw this quote on Instagram a while back which I made a screenshot of:

"Act as if what you do makes a difference. (It does.)"  William James

It made me think.

This is something I've always done in my life.  For some reason, despite whatever the world says, I have always seen myself as important. I've always acted like what I do makes a difference and I believe it. Perhaps I am deluded at sometimes? Perhaps egocentric, thinking that people notice me all the time? Perhaps I've got an over-inflated sense of my own importance? I am one of those people that worries and is paranoid about what people think about me. Sometimes to my detriment.  But I've always felt that what I do matters.

Every piece of music, every lesson, every thing be it a bad or good one. I still shudder and cringe over horrible things I have said or done over the years, when I've made someone feel bad. I think of my GCSE music teacher who was a really good guy, trying his hardest and how mean we were to him, how arrogant about our own sense of importance. I still think sadly of my German teacher in year 9-10 who was SUCH a good guy and an excellent educator but because he sweated a lot and was over enthusiastic and trying to be funny, he was unpopular with students and we were mean to him. He always told me that I should do German A'level and I always said that I wouldn't to him.  I always worry that people like me made him leave because I didn't support him like I should have done.  I was never disrespectful or disruptive but I didn't show my support. And yet, at the end of my GCSE's, it was one of the subjects I most wanted to do. I still regret my teenage ways and wish I could say thank you to them and always worry about how I might have affected them.

In the whole dialogue around Climate change, plastic reduction, Zero-waste, reducing my carbon footprint, not once have I felt that what I am trying to do isn't making a difference.  Various people, in the dialogues I have had with them, have made reference the fact that it doesn't seem worth it because it won't make a difference, because other people aren't doing it, because the government aren't making changes, because a large faction of society are too selfish to do anything.  This has always surprised me. I've NEVER felt that what I am trying to achieve is futile, that it doesn't make a difference.  Every little victory, every little piece of something I refuse, reuse or recycle gives me a little glow of happiness, makes me feel a difference.  Even something as simple as having not bought milk or juice in plastic bottles since 1st April has used 70 glass bottles which means, had I bought the equivalent from the supermarket, that makes 70 less plastic bottles, Turning the lights off in the dining hall at school when the morning breakfast club leaves them on, means a whole lot of electricity saving when the hall is not used for an hour first thing in the morning. Little actions DO make a difference.

Never let anyone tell you that something you are doing with good intentions, for a good reason will not make a difference.  Somewhere, somehow, it is making a difference, even if you don't see the outcome. I'm paraphrasing Jesus when he said something like "Many drops make an ocean" but your little drops all contribute to that ocean.

Think of Greta Thunberg.  She didn't think that her actions wouldn't make a difference.  They have and they have inspired millions of people world-wide to stand up for the environment today. To say, We matter, our actions WILL have an impact because we think that it will make a difference.

Do everything you do like you are making a difference and you surely will.
xx

Fed up with Plugged in!

You know there's a rant coming!
I am a fast walker when I walk. I also now cycle to the station but on the way to work, I need to cycle a section on the pavement on the main road to the station because the road is really narrow and the drivers are really aggressive at rush hour.  I am aware that it is not ideal that I need to cycle on the pavement for this section.  But there aren't loads of pedestrians at that time and I am always careful and either go around or jump off my bike and run in front of them.

But the fact is....I am getting increasingly tired of pedestrians who are
a) walking with ear phones in
b) walking looking down at their phone.

They have NO awareness of ANYONE around them.  I am surprised that there are not more accidents.  They also walk slower than anyone who is unplugged and somehow seem to walk right in the middle of the pavement but irritatingly veer from side to side slightly meaning it is really hard to get past them.  Why are they so oblivious to the world around them?  I always say, "Sorry, I am just nipping past you when I go past people.  The ones who are plugged in have no idea and it just makes me sad that people are not noticing the world around them.
I then look around me in the train carriage.  The other day, out of the 23 people in my section of the carriage, 19 people had earphones in. I just find it really sad.  Yes, I do look at my phone on the train (I also read), but I do have an awareness of those around me!

Let's unplug and gain some awareness of the world around us!

Plasters

Sophie prompted this post with a small comparison she made about fungus on a tree being like scabs on her post about a walk here.    And then it made me think back to those primary school years:

Oh how often we fell over when we were young!  I always remember having to go to the medical room after having fallen over with a big bleeding cut/scratch on my knee.  Not one of those monumental long scabs which suggested a slalom-style skid on a patch of skin, but just the general fall over and scrape the asphalt which resulted in blood outpouring in the lesser or more degree.  They always stung like anything, some sort to disinfectant would then be applied (For the record, I really loathe the smell of TCP but I adore the smell of Dettol!) and then the worst bit....

THE PLASTERSSSSSSSSSSS. 
(Band-Aids or Adhesive bandages if you are from the US)

Urgh, school plasters were the WORST.  These square-shaped lolloping great things that were always saggy and failed to stay on properly.  I really would rather bleed then wear them.  They were always several tones too pale for my skin too.
At home, my Mum would then take off the offending inferior plaster and change it for the opposite, the 'cling to your skin no matter what', thick, textured adhesive as strong as super-glue variety which wouldn't come off for love, nor money.  These were several shades darker, almost a brick red shade and more rectangular (with curved edges_)

As the years went on, my utter emnity towards the offending items grew to the extent that the sight of them makes me shudder. I cannot, will not have a plaster unless I can absolutely not avoid it and if I do, it sets my teeth on edge and fills me with a disturbing sense of unease.

Why?

Well, let me enlighten you...

1.  Those really strong ones ALWAYS, left a really disgusting nasty dark outline from the plaster once you removed them.  You would see a shadow of the former plaster left on your skin like the mocking echo of school yard bullies from some school-based drama.  You'd try to scrape it off carefully, avoiding the wound, but it wouldn't come off and the feeling of fingernails against that gluey, sticky nasty dark matter made me wince.   You'd gingerly try to scrub the skin in the bath, striving to avoid contact with the scab/wound.
2.  The actual removal of the plaster. Remember I mentioned how strong the adhesive was?  The actual removal of the plaster was always traumatic. I am recoiling as I recall the feeling of trying to remove one. You'd grasp, scrabbling with fingernails at the edges, trying to find a weak spot to remove and then, begin the procedure. You know the old adage or saying about it being better to remove the plaster quickly or something of that ilk?   No.  I dispute that.  It hurts like hell and then you don't know if you've accidentally ripped something else off (like a bit of the scab which might have been unfortunately touched by the edge of the adhesive.  But, almost equally as bad is the slow progression of pulling the plaster.  Skin, hairs, anything that was below gets removed.  I'm not sure which is worse but I will always remove them slowly. I definitely remember several scabs accidentally being ripped off by a clumsily-placed plaster.
3. The unknown.  You never know exactly how it is healing underneath. This makes me uneasy.
4.  In regard to point 3, the feeling once it is removed upon discovering the wound is still not ready for the world, means another plaster!
5.  The colour! I mentioned the colour earlier. I HATED those nasty variations on flesh-coloured.  Equally though, I feel very ill-disposed towards those decorative plasters, especially kiddy ones with cartoon characters.  I flatly refused one of those once upon being a offered one. DON'T try to make them look pretty- they are not pretty, even if they have paisley on them or Mario!  Also, those catering ones that are bright blue are equally alarming.
6.  I also associate plasters with dirty boys!  I was not fond of the average boy when I was a girl. I only liked the clean, quiet ones. I did not like those ones who had scabs and scratches the size of cars.   They would always come into class with a plaster which they would promptly and nonchalantly peel off and discard.  The offending bloody-ball of puss would be beneath, festering like some sort of witch's boil.  Boy injuries were always so much worse than girl injuries. Even now when I see boys and girls with plasters, I shudder inwardly and find a reason to be elsewhere.
7.  Plasters at swimming pools: public pools inevitably end up with with the odd plaster floating in them and certainly they did more when I was growing up.  In my head, as I progressed and one loomed towards me, I would ruminate anxiously over whether it was an injury plaster, a jewellery plaster or worse, a verruca plaster!  Yes, at the swimming pool, I think of those when I see a plaster!
8. It's really hard to actually put them on straight and judge where they will go up to (well it is if you are me!)

I do apologise if I have inadvertently put you off your cup of tea that you were so blithely sipping as you advanced through this post, but this is 'one of those blog posts'.  And in conclusion, if I ever meet you, please don't be offended if you catch me looking at your plaster emblazoned body-part uneasily and shifting from foot to foot, if you are unfortunate enough to be sporting one upon our encounter.  I mean nothing personally, it is just some irrational fear that links me to a myriad childhood traumatic plaster-related memories.

Please note, I have included no accompanying image for this post, since unlike mushrooms (one of my other loathings), plasters are NEVER pretty and their visual manifestation has no place here on KezzieAG!

Over to you...
What are your memories of plasters in your childhood?  Did you have many injuries?  Do you abhor them like me? Do you have any associations like these?

x

Don't be afraid to do the right thing, even if it makes you unpopular

Just a thought for the day. 

Someone was doing something today that I knew to be wrong.  But that individual tends to be a bit snarky and snappy if you try to correct them on it and quite often does things you comment on, I feel, just to make a point that they do what they want (like throwing their plastic bottle in the bin instead of the equidistant recycling bin EV-ER-Y. day despite the proximity and the better moral option being pointed out quite gentl). I do like this person however and they have lots of great merits.

They were doing something that I know they would get into trouble for and someone else saw the uncomfortable looks that I was giving them. I mentioned to the person observing after, that they shouldn't be doing that, because they would get into trouble and the other person said that they didn't say anything to them because that person doesn't like criticism. 
I mentioned it to another acquaintance, mentioning my dilemma and she reminded me that you must always tell the person, for their own sake, even if it it makes things uncomfortable for you in the process.  And she was right.
I knew I was seeing that person next so I resolved to tell them.  Alas, in the busyness of the daily grind, I clean forgot to tell them but I will tell them. Doing it kindly, letting them know you have their best intentions at heart- well, it's worth the effort, I think, even if I am a bit nervous to do it.

Brave heart!

Now I've just got to remember to do it!!

Have you been in a situation like that?

x

What do I do with it?

 I hate to seem ungrateful but occasionally you receive a present you just do not know what to do with.

A child in year 4 told me she had made something for me.  It was after another child had given me a Christmas present and I felt like perhaps she saw that (and saw my grateful reaction) and wanted to give me something also.  She presented me with this. As in handed it to me without wrapping.  Apparently it is Slime.  There is some sort of obsession with slime with the kids at school at the moment.  I don't quite get it. I have always disliked slime and things of that ilk from when I was very young.  She said she had made it for me and I had to make sure it was kept upright. Because I thought she had given me to me because the other child had, I said to her that it was hers and if she had made it, she should keep it and I didn't expect any kids to give me presents and they shouldn't worry.  She said that she didn't want it (which then made me wonder also if she was offloading it?)

Anyway, I graciously accepted it as there wasn't much else to do.  CBC spotted it at home the other day and immediately asked what on earth it was.  I told him and he told me I had to get rid of it.  Number 1, we don't have ornaments of this ilk, number 2, I am not a pink person and 3, well, I really don't like slimy things.  Thus, I wanted to acquiese but I genuinely don't know how to dispose of it. Obviously, this is not a charity shop donation situation. What IS in there?  How am I going to dispose of it given I don't know how viscous it is, what it is made of?  It's got glitter in it which we know is plastically. I do not want to just throw it in the bin as it is as that is not eco-friendly- I do want to be able to tip it out somehow. I am the person who will always clean jars and containers out, no matter how horrendously mouldy the contents are- I will not just take the easy option and just chuck something out fully as it is.  I feel terribly  ungrateful in this situation- I appreciate the gesture, intention and the sentiment but realistically, HELP, what do I do?

Have you ever been in a situation like this?

And WHAT DO I DO?

Commuting with long legs

Hello there,

Here's one of my random discussions that sometimes inveigle their way into blog posts.

I commute on trains every day and have done for 5.5 years now.  Before that, I commuted to university for 2 years, commuted to another uni for 1 year (and school placements) and commuted to London for 3 years.

And I always find I just don't have enough leg room to sit comfortably. I DO have long legs, particularly the thighs/upper legs which makes them stick out more. Thus, I have to sit quite firmly pressed back into the seat to avoid knee-touching with strangers.  Then there's always man-spread. You know, where you sit next to some hulking great individual who apparently thinks that their legs cannot possibly touch and they must spread their legs to encroach on your territory.  It's always harder at Rush hour because inevitably, every seat ends up being taken.  Do you have this problem too?

It's also hard when you have bags and worse, nowadays, a bike, even though it is a fold up.

I would put my bag in the luggage rack (where there is one) but it is quite hard to lean over people (they get your groin in their face) in order to get it and worse, I have been known to leave things on trains when I put them in luggage racks...

This is why I was very pleased, when moving to my town, to discover that the carriage that quite often is the one I need to get on to line up exactly with the stairs, is one that has a seat on either side of the carriage which is rather like a rather uncomfortable long sofa.  It can only fit three but those are three generous-sized seats so you can have your bag next to you and not touch the adjacent stranger.  One side has room to put your fold-up bike right in front of you, not blocking the vestibule as is usually the case.  It's easy to get out of without doing my usual of tripping over the feet of everyone who is sitting in the seats opposite because there is such a gap between the two sides of the carriage.  If you are tired and want a sleep, it has a nice high side to it that you can lean against. It even has space under the seat should you want to brave the germs.   In summary, it is ideal!

I got a very strange look from a man standing in the vestibule as I took this grinning.  He must have
wondered what on earth I was doing...

Thus, on the days where, for some reason, this carriage is not in its usual position, or worse, recently, they've introduced NEW trains without the 'sofa carriage' I feel quite bereft!!!

On holiday in France in 2016, we sat in this seat on the local surburban train which was even nicer!!!

The soles of his feet didn't touch the seat, worry not. I asked him to
pose for this!

What's your experience of commuting with long legs or even average-sized legs but insufficient-sized seating?  Do share your experience!!

xx

The bizarre foibles of a Google search

I thought this was extremely funnily bizarre so I am going to share this with you.  Am sorry if anyone takes offence at all but I find it so strange!

So, an acquaintance of mine was telling me today that they were preparing a debate and discussion recently on the nature of Mediocrity.  As part of their discussion, they were preparing a powerpoint and one of the points of the discussion was the value of the Amateur in the world and how amateur pursuits might be seen to be mediocre but their value in life is considered valuable.  They decided to search for an image to add to their slide and typed 'Amateur' into google images.  Bizarrely, when they did so, the majority of the images on screen were images of scantily-clad ladies- bikinis, knickers, tight dresses etc.  This really confused my acquaintance.  Why would 'Amateur' yield such results?   He then started wondering if Google shows exactly the same search results for everyone or was it somehow aimed at him.  He actually emailed Google saying he thought that that was really dodgy that that is what came up in the search but they were singularly unhelpful.  He wondered if  'amateur' gave such dubious results, what might come up if you typed something more dodgy.  So he typed, 'slag' into the google bar and the result was basically a whole page of 'slag heaps'! You know, stony piles of rocks.  Not one dodgy image whatsoever!   Admittedly, 'slag' is a loaded term and perhaps isn't the common vernacular for everyone (it was sadly used a lot where I grew up. I do not like the judgemental word) Isn't that bizarre that there wasn't one dodgy image yet when you type  'amateur'....

I still keep giggling when I think of  some slavering perve searching under that category and then being disappointed by the page of slag heaps!

Really hope this doesn't send google searches to my blog now!

5 foods I used to dislike but now like.

Add caption

I have had a few conversations with people about food dislikes.  It's one of those things that really gets some people very animated and others, curiously, not so passionate.  Mushroom-haters are generally extremely overt about their fungus-detesting preferences and all the reasons they think they are the most egregious, heinous, intrinsically wrong form of food (We all know I hate them) .  CBC says I am a bit childish about sharing my dislike of certain foods and says that makes me fussy.  Perhaps that is true.  I am quite vocal about the fact I am not keen on many types of dessert because I don't eat dessert unless I really like it- I feel like the nutrients I would get from most of those desserts are limited and I am not missing anything by avoiding them. For example- I like eating fruits like blackberries and raspberries and blueberries but I am really not fond of Summer Pudding- I find the combined flavour too intense and the addition of white bread is not any nutritional benefit.

I have some relatives, mainly by marriage, who are incredibly fussy or limited eaters, who still dislike many foods that they used to dislike when they were young, but sometimes, we try things and our tastebuds have changed.
I was thinking about this and thought I'd share some foods I now like that I disliked years ago.
I'd be intrigued to see you do something similar.

1. Olives:  I used to strongly dislike these but now, I think they are absolutely delicious. I can polish off a whole pot of them! My favourites are the large green Queen olives- stuffed with garlic is the best!

2. Cooked tomatoes:  when I was a child, I only liked my tomatoes raw- I found the taste of cooked tomatoes too intense and I didn't like the texture.  Now, they are one of the most prolific foods in my diet- we use them for everything.

3.  Green Courgettes- again, these feature so often in my daily diet that I cannot imagine life without them. But, when we were young, I strongly disliked the flavour of green courgettes. Yellow ones were ok.

4. Prawns- I wasn't overly fond of prawns many years ago but they are a staple favourite now.

5. Vegetable stews and soups- I HATED these and I ate them for most of my childhood days. There was no other option. My Mum said that I had to eat them because we had no money for anything else.  I ate them.  I often wonder if that approach would've worked on fussy eaters when they were young?  Anyway, now, there is nothing more I like that eating those in the Winter!


What about you?  Any foods you now like that you once upon a time used to strongly detest?

x

Can't Sing

There is a curious phenomenon I call the  'Can't sing' phenomenon.  There are some things that people can do well and others they can't do so well and people tend to say, "I'm not so good at that,".

BUT, when it comes to singing, people say to me, "I can't sing."  I have encountered this in so many different spheres of life.  Teachers tell me this, people I meet at churches, random friends of people, you name it.  Especially when they find out I am a music teacher.

But, of course, they can sing (a lady at the Baptist church said this to me and then sang quite nicely next to me) but what they mean is, "I am not a professional sounding singer," or "I can't totally hold my tune," or "I find it hard to sing high notes." or "I think my voice sounds a bit nasal." I have taught children who find it hard to follow a tune but the majority of them, will have developed their voice by the time they've left me so there are differences in pitch at a certain register.  I've only ever had one child who left me without any of timing or singing in tune (curiously, a very clever child, was in Drumming Club and choir and somehow was still very, very a-rhythmic and sang in a monotone- I could never understand it- he was so enthusiastic! The point was- even though he sang quite loudly completely at a monotone and played his drums out of time, I never asked him to leave, made him feel uncomfortable or like he couldn't do it- I would just offer advice where I could and position him with strong singers.  And he was there, doing it and that was the main thing- he loved music and kept doing it.

The thing I always say to my classes at school is that I thank them for their singing- I say, as long as you are trying to sing, that is the most important thing for me.  And they do improve gradually, some more than others, but still they progress.

I've known people at church keep quiet when they are singing because they think there voice is no good.  But it reminds me of a story I heard a vicar tell once. There was a monk/priest who used to sing quite out of tune.  He used to really enjoy singing all the hymns in church until one day someone told him not to sing because he was out of tune.  He was very sad and never sang up in the hymns again.
When he went to heaven and he finally met God, he said to him, "I missed you! I always used to look out for your voice- I could always hear it above everyone.
Or something of that ilk.  The point I am trying to make is that we can all sing, but as long as we enjoy it, that is the main thing.  When I go to church or a carol concert,  I always sing my heart out (unless I have a sore throat in which case I croak as best I can!). Even if I get the notes wrong.  I am always sad when I go somewhere and people don't sing.

Remember, when you sing with joy, that's a wonderful thing!

xx

My polka dot shoes

Happy Birthday to my Mummy! I had a lovely evening spent with her and my niece.  I went round there straight from school and it wasn't too bad a journey despite the fact I had to take 3 trains!

Anyway, this looks a bit of a grim picture but I wonder if you have a favourite pair of shoes that you love to pieces but are falling to pieces.

These polka dot shoes are my absolute favourite Summer pair of shoes. I bought them from Primark probably about 14-15 years ago and as you can see, the insides look a little worse for wear but they still function and the soles are still fine.

They've never hurt my feet. I've had a few pairs of shoes (actually, most of them from Primark!) like this with the sort of raffia sides, canvas shoes and they have lasted incredibly well and have always been comfy and not once shredded my feet.

Many people talk about the fact that clothes or shoes from Primark don't last and I would often be inclined to agree with you but for certain shoes and garments I've had, usually in natural materials that really have shown great durability.

I always remember when I was doing my teacher training 12 years ago, wearing these to Uni one day and someone admiring them and me telling the girl that they were from Primark some 3-4 years ago.  I'd never think that after 12 years, I would still be wearing them. I would love to find a new pair of these.

Do you have a long-loved pair of shoes like these? I have a similar Winter pair but I'll just have to share those when they are more weather appropriate.

x

Patience

Perhaps one of the hardest virtues is 'Patience'.  Sometimes, waiting for something feels interminable.  Those hours they just crawl by, those days, those years, perhaps even those decades for something that is long sought, long yearned for, long anticipated.  Perhaps you give up in the end?  Perhaps it will never come? 

Spring is like that.  The bees that must last long through the Winter until the time when the nectars return again- it is practically their whole lifetime.  Indeed, their lifespan must last longer than those Summer worker bees whose lifespan, in the industriousness of the collecting season, live mere weeks.  

CBC has been fretting over the bees. Where are they?  Why weren't they coming.

But there they are, enjoying our Passiflora flowers in abundance and now beginning to explore the newly purple Lavender (the photo below is from before that time) .  Perhaps they have been checking the Lavender daily, to see if there is any ready yet and then when it reached maturity, that patient checking bee performed the Waggle Dance for the other bees to follow and to come and drink deep of the nectar.

Similarly,  CBC was fretting over our Rose bush which my Mum cut right down to a stump in February. It seemed to do little for a long while.  Now, they are towering above us and absolutely covered in yellow roses which now (again, these flowers are from before) are fully blooming and they are so shockingly bright from our bedroom window!

It took month patience rather than years, decades or a lifetime for CBC's fears to be abated, but the same principle applies:  Be patient, be hopeful and wait for it to reach you, whatever it may be!

I hope you have a wonderful week!

xx

The difficulties of going somewhere new

Hi there,

Hope you are well.  I am fine.

I've talked about churches and trying to find one where I've moved to.  I'm finding it a little hard so far.
You see, when I first became an adult as a Christian, I went along to one or two churches but I had a history with those. I went to one with my friend Norma who died and when I went to my old church, All Saints, although I went alone as a 22 year old, it was a church I had been to up at the age of 8 and I knew one or two people.  All Saints felt right instantly. I felt welcome instantly and felt it was a place I wanted to be. There were enough people of different ages, it was easy to get to and it turned out to be a wonderful place that I loved truly and made some amazing friends and, without sounding cheesy, to the non-Christian of you, I felt I got to know God there.

When we moved when I got married, I carried on going to All Saints for a while, commuting back on Sundays but I eventually stopped going. The church I ended up going to, Christ Church, I had been to with CBC before we were married as it was in the parish that he lived in and that's where our Banns were read- so we had gone there together to hear our Banns and I really liked it, got a good vibe from it, liked the range of ages and felt welcome.  So, when I wasn't able to travel back to my old church, I went there and eventually went there properly.  Again, it felt quite natural and easy.

When we were house-hunting, I knew the church I wanted to go to in that town- it was where my sister got married and I knew that it was a really nice church in a similar vein to what I am used to.
One of the things I was most sad about when we selected our house to buy, in a further away town, was the fact that this wouldn't be my local church.

Since we have moved to where we live now, I have been back to my old church a few times because I still want to go and I am committed to playing with the band for the first Sunday. Apart from that, I haven't really been to church much, due to being away a lot, not waking up and if I am honest, chickening out of having to be brave and trying somewhere new.

A few months ago, I went to the local Anglican church to try it out and I confess that I was really sad it was not what I had hoped. Nice people but there were only about 25 people there, most of whom were quite elderly or so, no vicar and the style of service was quite old-fashioned.  I always want to stay to coffee at the end because I don't want to be that person that ducks out. Some people made a beeline for me and chatted to me, finding out I was a musician and asked me if I was going to go there.  Everyone always gets excited when they find out I am a musician, including the organist there.  I didn't know what to say, I felt so bad because I was thinking that it seemed so quiet and I wanted to go to a place with people of many ages and I worried that there was no way I'd ever get CBC to come with me there. I felt guilty for feeling like that as they were so nice and if everyone had that attitude, they would never grow.

Anyway, some weeks passed and a few weeks ago, with CBC's encouragement (he likes that church and mentioned that he might sometimes come with me there when we first started going, even though he's not a believer- not sure if he would though), I went one Sunday to the church in the town we wanted to live in and really enjoyed the service- it had just the right size congregation. The style of service was just that which I am used to and enjoy and I felt right there. BUT, I feel that I should go to church in the town nearby as it would be harder to get involved if I don't live there and I felt bad about not supporting a church in our town.

This morning, I decided to try another church in our town, the Methodist one.  I crept in a bit late.  It was a really nice service, if a little more traditional than I am used to though with a great message from the preacher, who was from another Methodist church and a nice light building.  But, there were, again, only about 20 people there and most of them much older.  They have different speakers and their pastor is shared between 4 churches.  A few people spoke to me and were so nice and friendly and asked me if I would be joining them regularly. Again, the musician thing came up and I was introduced to the organist.  They were so nice and I was made to feel welcome but, I find it so hard because I don't want to upset anyone. They said they sometimes have home groups but there's not lots of things going on. I'd love to be able to go to everyone's church and join them but I really would love to be able to have some friends of my own age as well as older.  Please understand that I really love being friends with people who are older, but I know CBC wants friends our age and I would love to go to a church where he would sometimes want to come along with me (even though he is not a church-goer, sometimes, he might come).  I just didn't feel that instant connection though I did like it.

I know what it is like to see someone new come into your church, the joy of someone new and hoping that they might return, even if I don't openly ask people if they are going to come there again and the disappointment if they don't.  I liked the people I have met and I feel bad for not supporting a small church- I know how important it is to support a small church but I just didn't feel it.

I'm not sure what to do. I perhaps will try out some other churches in the area, there's a couple of other Anglican churches which are a few miles from us, one of which has a vicar moving there in a few months from the church I liked in the town we were supposed to live in; there's a Baptist church, an Elim Pentecostal one (which my neighbour goes to), the Community church, though in some ways, I still feel like I'd like to attend an Anglican church, I just wonder what you think about this, as a church-goer, Atheist or other, what would you do?

xxx

A motley collection of random things I wanted to write about. #2

Again, here are a few random moments that I wanted to write about over the past week or so.

AHRGH, CBC is watching Jaws 3!!! He keeps laughing and saying how fake it looks. I have not actually ever seen it before   When I was a little girl, we used to go over to my Dad's house at the weekends.  We would always watch a video, recorded from the TV- the choices were:  The Railway Children, James Bond (various), Around the World in 80 days and he had all 3 Jaws movies.  BUT, he always stipulated that we were only allowed to watch the movies at certain ages, Jaws 1 at a certain age, Jaws 2, then Jaws 3.  I was terrified by them!!  Jaws 3, for me, was the ultimate in scary- if I was only allowed to watch it at a certain age then it must be utterly awful.  I built it up in my head so it achieved an almost mythical scariness.   Somehow, after my Dad remarried, we didn't really watch videos like that so much so I never did see Jaws 3, except for one clip of the people walking through the glass tunnel with Jaws approaching which was the remnant of Jaws 3 which had been taped over for something else.  Seeing a glass tunnel appear on the screen some 10 minutes ago took me back to that anticipatory terror I associated with it in my callow years!

-We visited a really pleasant garden centre today (May bank holiday weekend Sunday) and it was really a lovely place- realised we had actually reached middle age with going to a garden centre on a Bank Holiday weekend- ha!  We bought 2 large Grecian-looking pots to repot the Olive and Fig trees into and a glazed blue one for the mint to live in (plus matching dishes for all three), a large bag of compost for aforementioned pots, climbing bean seeds, a Lemon Balm plant and a present for someone who MIGHT just be reading this post!

- Had a delightful leisurely sojourn along the High Street of the town we originally wanted to move to after going to church there this morning.  There is a very classy (but more expensive) charity shop there which I had the pleasure of browsing very slowly because there was no one else to hurry me up (and no one else in there!) - suddenly, we heard a naval marching band parading down the High Street!
- Oh the church service was LOVELY! It was JUST my type of service with all my favourite songs. Still not sure what to do on the church front.

- Still absolutely sick of engineering works on my line.  EVERY weekend there is no train service but a bus which takes more than double the time the train does and every evening as well after 9:30 meaning that coming home from orchestra takes an AGE! Last week, I missed the last train by 5 minutes, so instead of arriving to my home station at 10:30 which I should have done in normal (well, normal as of 3 months ago) circumstances, I got home at MIDNIGHT! The weekend works have been on since January (and were on before December). When are they going to end?? It makes life, as a non-driver, utterly infuriating!

-Thrift Deluxe wrote about making homemade crisps! I would like to try that!!!

- CBC made me put my Brompton bike up and down about 10 times to learn how to assemble it. Why do I find such things so difficult- I don't seem to have any logic about these things and just do them in a clunky way. I am going to cycle to work tomorrow (well, to the station) for the first time!
- Have survived two days of cycling- oh it is sooooooooo much quicker than walking!!!

- Very much enjoying this wearing dresses with no tights, leggings or cardigans! More please!

- Went a little mad in the Holland and Barrett Penny Sale on Shower gel.  Is 8 bottles too many?

Forget me not

What do you think about having a lasting legacy? 

Do you feel that you must leave a mark upon this world? Do you want people to remember you long past your demise?  Do you feel that we must leave a legacy or are you happy to have led a contented, quiet life?   I was contemplating this thought  and whilst I like the idea of having made an impact in this world in some way, big or small, I would never want it to become some sort of ego trip about me but rather doing some good and being contented by this.  Some people have children to leave a legacy,others like to leave lasting concrete memento that people remember them by.  

This thought came about because of the rather beautiful Forget-me-nots I saw growing last week at camp.  Thanks for those of you that asked about it.  Actually it was arctic in terms of temperatures up there and in the flute section, we spent most of the six hours of rehearsals on Saturday shivering in about 5 jumpers, passing a hot water bottle between the 3 of us and shuddering every so often as it seemed like the temperature was interminably dropping. Musically, it was a delight. Apologies, I digress!

Amidst all that cold, rain and cloud, a haze of almost ethereal blue flanked the bed outside the main barn and was a delightful distraction from the bitter cold as one went to pay a call of nature (yes, you had to make a walk along a path to reach the facilities)

I wonder why such a small and fairly innocuous-looking flower received the name, Forget me not. In terms of the hierarchy of flowers I've seen, they are perhaps not the most memorable compared to other more ebullient and vibrant specimens that are regularly seen. Surely, you might forget them?

But perhaps their fairly benign appearance is a lesson in life.  That perhaps, what makes something or someone memorable is not their being the most flamboyant or gregarious of individuals but rather, the small, less showy, consistent one will be the one who is remembered.  Why? Because they are constant, loyal and in their way, will always remain in hearts and minds because of being humble but always present.  True beauty can be found in the most humble, self-effacing people those who don't dance in our faces making their presence know but those who quietly, contentedly plod along the path with us, ready to illuminate and lighten our paths when we need it.

Wishing you a memorable weekend.

xx

The evil of polystyrene

CBC had to go to school for a musical rehearsal during the holiday and I got a lift with him to his school and decided to walk to the seafront  and the pier from his school.  It was a mile or so to the pier and by the time I reached the pier, I was really hungry.  I really wanted some takeaway chips as I wanted to walk and eat on the go to get the full seaside experience.

As you may have realised, I have been really trying hard with the whole refusing plastic and reusing rather than taking anything, as you may have read in this post.  The top item on my "NO!" hitlist is polystyrene.  I will choose not to buy something from somewhere and go without rather than take it. It is notoriously difficult to recycle it and the majority of people, even if it WAS easy to recycle, use it when they are eating takeaways (chips, kebabs, burgers...) or hot drink cups and will NOT make the effort to keep it or recycle it- they just chuck it in the bin. It may be different in your area but unfortunately, the average person where I live absolutely doesn't give a stuff about recycling and just wants to chuck their polystyrene box away asap.

Well, as I was walking along the esplanade, I just seemed to see reams and reams of people eating takeaways from polystyrene trays, cones or cups which made me mutter in a rather Mad Lady way about polystyrene.  I went into about 5 fish and chip shops to ask what they served their takeaway chips and all said that they served it in polystyrene trays.  I shook my head sadly and walked away as they said that, noticed a family of 6 chucking their polystyrene trays into the bin.

Finally, in one place, she said that they serve it in polystyrene with a piece of paper round it and I asked if I could please craft my own cone out of the paper instead of taking a cone.  She said that that was fine.  I used to work in a chip shop as a teenager and we served our takeaway chips in cones that we made out of folded paper.  She gave me the paper and it transpired that I hadn't forgotten how to make the cone.  I handed it back and it functioned perfectly well as a cone.  I had a little plastic bag in my handbag that I had kept in there to be useful and I just put this as the bottom to soft it from leaking. It was fine.  Oh, and as a side-note, I shunned the plastic forks and instead used the wooden chipfork that lives in my handbag (and has been reused a few times) 

I honestly believe that polystyrene trays and takeaway containers should be banned. Let's be honest- they NEVER end up in the recycling. Paper/card alternatives should and CAN be found.  In Hexham last week, CBC and I were on the go and felt a little peckish and yet again, not expecting this, I didn't have my silicone collapsible container with me (which I ALWAYS carry if I know I am going to buy food on the go).   We went into the chip shop in the square in Beaumont street in Hexham I asked how they served their takeaway chips and they said the evil P word.  I asked if they had an eco-friendly alternative and typically, it being Hexham, they did- they had some Eco-containers (thick card) but we had to pay 30p for it.  We chose to do that because we didn't want the Polystyrene, but it proves there IS a solution!

Will you join me and REFUSE Polystyrene. I may start a petition at 38 Degrees to ban the use of Polystyrene in takeaway containers because I do think it is is awful!

On the same subject, there is a petition to try to get Walkers to use Recyclable crisp packets! I would love you to sign it also! I love crisps and feel awful that I am contributing to packaging so bad for the environment!

x

A motley collection (of random things I just want to write) #1

Sometimes, I want to just write some small anecdotes just to remember them, to document a feeling, a moment, a thought, an experience or just randomly write something but they don't merit an entire blog post, so I thought I'd just assemble them together into a motley collection. Feel free to read, be disgusted or entranced or whatever takes your fancy. I've added to them over the past 3 days so the chronology may be a bit confusing, having written them as they occurred. Ignore the todays if it appears I am conflicting myself and instead insert, "The other day" to substitute.

- I am a bit lazy and blaze about washing up and reusing mugs. If a tea mug has been left, I am perfectly happy to use it a day later if it has avoided being washing up. But perhaps I took that a bit far tonight. I used my mug for a fresh cup of tea or three. Then I put the broccoli water in it to drink (we like doing that). I just went to grab the mug to make my cocoa and noticed a bit of broccoli floating in it. Hmmm, maybe I need to be a bit more aware!

- I have a cold. I can pinpoint EXACTLY who is responsible! I've mentioned my talented boy in Year 6 who I give an individual recorder lesson to on Friday lunchtimes because he is talented, hardworking and nice.  He was coughing quite a bit and I asked if he had a cold which he confirmed was true. I always help him pull the treble recorder apart as he has a bit of trouble with it.  Friday night, my throat started to get sore. Saturday I am bunged up, Sunday I am snotty.  All weekend I am telling CBC, "WAIT till I see R on Monday!"  I saw R today. I uttered the words,"I have a cold!" in the most accusatory tone I can muster up. R looks dismayed and highly sheepish. HE knows!

- More on my disgusting credentials:  I noticed a lunch bag in the fridge at school that is mine. I realised that it has been in there since before the holiday. Inside it were three very grey-furry rabbit looking miniature cucumbers- yep, they had developed a grey fur coat and a white bobtail!

- Strange looks from the passengers on the train at my large plastic bag seemingly full of rubbish. Luckily, I seem to care less what people think as I grow older!Yes, I carried home all the recycling from the staffroom. Was it difficult? No.  Why can't people take their own!

-LOVING the chives growing in my garden! Had the most chivy Omelette for dinner- oodles of cheddar cheese accompanied by broccoli, asparagus, courgette and tomatoes. mmm!

- Fancied some nice chocolate and remembered that Bev had sent me a delicious bar of Swiss chocolate along with the Chalet school book she sent me! Perfect!

- Enjoying the Maisie Dobbs book that Lisa sent me through the post!

- Now enjoying the very first Chalet school book which I could SWEAR I'd read before but feel like I just HAVEN'T!

- SUCH a cute moment yesterday.  So, in our school playground, we have two beautiful Cherry Blossom trees.  I was walking through the playground and met the caretaker. He said to me, "Have you got a song about Cherry Blossoms you could teach the children?".  He commented that it was just so beautiful and they should do something special connected to it.  I do indeed have such a song- the lovely traditional Japanese song, Sakura.  So, for Singing Assembly in KS1 an hour later, I searched out the music and found a lovely Youtube video with beautiful blossoms and accompanied by a Japanese Koto and we learnt it.   Then, yesterday, a day later, at playtime, I walked through the playground to see multitude of young children under the Cherry Blossom with their hands out stretched catching the delicate pink petals as they fell like confetti and screaming in wonder and awe.  The cutest was one child who stood there, saying, in an awestruck voice, "Sakura, Sakura!" over and over again. Oh what a joy to see that the lesson you have taught has stuck in such a way.  Makes a lovely contrast to the class who blankly stared at me when I asked them what our topic in music has been this last 7 weeks!

- Still snotty, still absolutely sick of blowing my nose! It is very red and raw.   Neither CBC or I want to cook- we seem to be playing a game of brinkmanship with the cooking tonight. I just can't be bothered. Doesn't help that there's washing up to do!

- I shut the top of my finger in the door at school today. We have a loo in my building which is a single disabled room with a  bolt lock right at the top to stop kids using it. I was very, very late to school today and in my hurry to leave the loo, didn't just where to put my hand and slammed the door with my hand ready to shoot the bolt. Swore very loudly, luckily not heard by children and went in search of peas. It transpired that the colleague, whose class I was covering, had banged his head in a similar hurried fashion!

Any anecdotes to share here that don't merit an entire post but you want to share?  Leave a comment below and let me know if you want it included if I do another one of these posts- might be quite funny to have a communal collection of life anecdotes!
xx

Making friends

I don't know about you but I find it increasingly harder to make, sustain and begin new friendships. It was so easy as a child- you would just bounce up to each other, introduce yourself and a friendship began.  If you didn't really want to talk or be friends, you just didn't end up playing together so much.
Now as an adult, I find that I seem to have significantly fewer friends, especially since they've moved away or had children.  When I meet someone, lives are so much more busy and complicated, that socialising seems very difficult- we are too busy, they have kids that either sick or need to be at ballet, in bed, or they don't respond to messages.

As an adult, when meeting someone new, I  worry about whether someone genuinely wants to be my friend or not or is just being polite in the situation of talking to me.

When I joined my church, All Saints in 2004, it was beautifully easy, I got to know people and I naturally had a group of lovely church friends who I socialised with- various ages.
 When CBC and I got married and moved, I kept in touch with various friends from there, one I still meet up with for dinner near work but generally, people haven't stayed in touch so much.
When I moved to my next church, it seemed a bit harder to socialise- I met people but somehow didn't make the type or friendships that made it easy to meet up- I think this has a lot to do with my not joining a home group or going to too many events- CBC,not being a churchgoer, made it harder to join in with lots of things, he'd always moan if I wanted to go to many church events and thus, I somehow didn't get involved in so much, made harder when we moved to the next town away.  Somehow, as well, I didn't get that instant connection I did with many people like I did at my old church.

I think the only friend I've really made in the last year or so is L from my flute quartet and we never seem to be able to see her, she's so busy with piano tunings and other things which is sad as I'd really like CBC and I to get to know her and her lovely husband.

We went to a wedding a few weeks ago and at dinner, I ended up seated next to the Step-sister by marriage of the groom.  She was absolutely lovely and we seemed to get on so well and seemed to have lots in common-she is a print designer for well-known children's clothing company and we just clicked and when I talked to her, I didn't have that usual 'wedding talk' exhaustion of trying to make small talk, NOR that sense of worry that I was boring her or that she didn't want to talk to me.  Whether this is because she is a lovely person (which seemed to be the case) or because she genuinely liked me or got on with me, it was really nice.
I said to CBC later that I really liked her and thought she was nice, and he then proceeded to tease me about it.  Somehow, after dinner, when it came to swing-dancing and changing the venue rooms, after a swing dance taster class, I didn't end up speaking to her again, not least because we ended up chatting to and dancing with our other friends from music camp.  I really regretted it because I really did want to talk to her again and again that adult awkwardness of, can I say to someone, it would be lovely to stay in touch, let's swap numbers (not least because she really liked the sound of learning Balinese gamelan). Somehow, I didn't pluck up the courage to ask!

The next day, we drove to Shaftesbury to have an explore and as we were taking photos on the famous Gold Hill from the Hovis Advert, I saw the groom's Stepbrother and girlfriend walk past and then the aforementioned stepsister was there! I think I exclaimed her name in delight!  We ended up chatting to the family and walking up the hill. At which point, they went into the museum.  She was walking behind slower and said, that she thought they were going in there and said goodbye and again I failed to say anything.  CBC teased me mercilessly as we walked on saying, "But x, come with us!!" and said that it seemed like she didn't want to go into the museum.

It's hard though, because it is awkward saying to someone, essentially, "Do you want to be friends?" and it is awkward for them if they don't want to!

I hoped that moving house, I would find a lovely church where there would be lots of  people my age I could make friends with, but the town we were planning to move to didn't work out and I am yet to find a church to go to in this town.  I need to make a bit more effort to do this, but I always find it nerve-wracking going to a new place alone. I did go to the Anglican church in town but I didn't find it to be a place that I really wanted to go and be a member of , there were about 20 people which feels awful, but it didn't feel right.

How do you feel about making friends as an adult?  Particularly anyone who doesn't have offspring?

xxx