14th July 2007

Having navigated our way through a rather hectic final school week, I think it’s safe to say we’re all ready for a well-earned break. Everyone seems utterly exhausted, and even Jamie has started going to bed at a vaguely civilised hour.

On Tuesday, Sarah accompanied me to the Sea Life Centre in Birmingham to help with my class trip. A very enjoyable day out. Having now visited a fair number of these aquariums, I can confidently say they’re all cut from the same cloth, but the formula works, and if it’s your first time, it’s still quite magical.

Thursday saw Sue dining at Rockingham Castle with the staff of St Joseph’s School. It sounded lovely, and they even had a guided tour of the grounds after the meal. Meanwhile, I was in charge of organising a retirement bash for Joan (Headteacher) at a local Italian restaurant. It went off well, and I even managed to squeeze out a few laughs with my speech, always a relief. Sarah had a fun school trip to Alton Towers, where, miraculously, the weather held. And, Jamie, not to be left out, went to the local skateboard park and returned home on crutches. (Yes, this is the same Jamie who was due to take his driving test on Friday!) As it turned out, a letter arrived the very same day saying his test had been cancelled and we’d need to telephone and rebook, a mixed blessing, given the state of his leg and our impending holiday. When I rang the test centre and explained the situation, they offered us a slot for this Friday.  Jamie was optimistic (read: stubborn) and insisted he’d be fine to drive. It was, thankfully, only a sprain, so we booked it.

Friday arrived and brought with it a soggy farewell to Year 6, frankly, a tiresome bunch who wore me out with their endless bickering and inability to see beyond the ends of their own noses. Sadly, that’s becoming a fair reflection of society in general. Another lunchtime farewell party for Joan with the staff followed, as well as the induction of next year’s Year 6 teacher. He seems a pleasant enough chap with a decent amount of overseas teaching experience (Gulf States and suchlike). He seemed to hit it off with the children, which is always a promising start.

Sue took Jamie to the driving test centre. It was scheduled for 3:30 pm in Leicester, on the last day of the school term, and it was raining. Sue reported that Jamie was visibly nervous and, unfortunately, failed on two counts: overtaking a cyclist on the brow of a hill, and proceeding in the wrong lane at a one-way junction when instructed to turn right. Still, we’ve all done that at some point, and it is encouraging for his next test, which is now booked for after we return from holiday.

Later that same day, I played golf with some friends at a course in Kettering. As tee-off was booked at 5 pm, straight after school, I grabbed my golf bag from the loft without checking its contents, a mistake. Several clubs were missing (including the putter), and no gloves. Having not played for several years, I wasn’t expecting to produce a dazzling display. Golf, after all, is not just a game of skill, but of psychological endurance. And after a long, stressful term, the mind isn’t exactly primed for precision swings. Still, I put in a reasonable performance. Though I didn’t win a single hole, my playing partners play regularly, and I took it as a moral victory when I didn’t come last.

On Saturday, I delivered our two unsuspecting guinea pigs to Roger Woolnough, who had somehow been volunteered, possibly without his full consent, to look after them while we’re away. With the pets safely handed over, I turned my attention to the usual pre-holiday chaos: tidying the garden and packing what felt like everything we own.

Jamie squeezed in one final day of work, no doubt dreaming of beaches and sleep. Sarah, meanwhile, spent the entire day trying on half her wardrobe before finally committing to a suitcase, or at least beginning to pack it. In fitting form, Sue spent her time flitting between us all, quietly panicking and double-checking everything, just in case someone dared to forget a toothbrush or leave behind their passport.

We’re due to leave Willow Bank at 4:00 am sharp tomorrow for the drive to Manchester Airport, so there’ll be precious little time in the morning for a last-minute crisis or discovering any vital item still sitting smugly on the kitchen table.