25th May 2008

This week, the search began in earnest to find my replacement at school. Out of the original seven applications, only two made it to the interview stage, one of whom was already on the payroll. Unsurprisingly (to everyone but HR, I imagine), the internal candidate landed the job. Well, better the devil you know than someone who might ask where the toilets are on their first day.

Thursday saw the new Headteacher and me interviewing seven hopefuls for a Year 2 teaching position. Due to the Deputy Headship being filled internally, we now have not one, but two posts to fill. Unfortunately, all the applicants were fresh-out-of-the-wrapper NQTs, and all Key Stage 1 trained, rather unhelpful when one of the vacancies was in Year 4. Nevertheless, we managed to appoint two promising candidates, one of whom turned out to be a former pupil. That delightful fact did wonders for my self-esteem. There’s nothing quite like interviewing someone who once needed your help to zip up their coat.

Sarah spent the week doing work experience at a nursery and adored it, though she came home each day looking like she’d just run a marathon while carrying toddlers. Her end-of-week report was glowing, and we’re now thinking about finding her a summer job to keep the pocket money flowing and the fridge from being constantly raided. She’s also announced she’s making a wedding cake for school, which presumably means I’ll be footing the bill for ingredients and still being denied a single slice. I must remember to charge a crumb tax.

Friday was Sarah’s 15th birthday. We marked the occasion with a family dinner at the Shoulder of Mutton, joined by Charlotte, Suraj, and a remarkably well-behaved Lucas. (We’re still trying to work out what he was up to.) The next day, much to her father’s despair, Sarah had her ears pierced, a teenage rite of passage that I’m told is less painful than watching them choose the earrings. She then headed off to Rockingham with Charlotte and Suraj for an all-terrain vehicle adventure. They came back covered in mud and grinning like lunatics. We rounded the day off with a BBQ at Willow Bank, where Jamie brought along Harriet. Sue and I finally had a proper chat with her; she seemed level-headed, though perhaps not entirely wise, having agreed to a game of tennis with Sarah and me (and Jamie, post-exams). We’ll see if that promise survives the revision season.

Jamie also popped around midweek to change a brake light bulb with my help. Apparently, he’d been stopped by the police. Again. He’s developing quite a reputation; he was once stopped three times in a single day. I, on the other hand, have been driving for thirty-three years without a single stop. Either I drive like a saint, or I’m just incredibly lucky, or perhaps invisible to the law.

The week ended with a good old-fashioned British downpour, which kept me indoors converting my entire CD collection to mp3. A dull, soul-sapping task made only slightly more tolerable by rediscovering long-forgotten tracks. Still, I’d rather have been out in the rain with the ducks.