31st January 2010

Time, that slippery eel, has darted past us again. It’s been one of those months where we’ve all been whizzing around in separate orbits, occasionally crashing into each other around mealtimes or when someone needed a lift. Like ships in the night… if the ships had washing to do, jobs to attend, and an ever-dwindling supply of patience.

Jamie began the month carless and uninsured, which meant Sue and I became his chauffeurs. Sue drew the short straw and did the 5 am run to the recycling plant on the outskirts of Kettering, while I brought him home at 6 pm. Twelve hours spent sorting through the nation’s finest waste is not without its… fragrance. Let’s just say, you haven’t lived until you’ve shared a car with someone steeped in eau de compost. The utility room where he now gets changed after work has its own microclimate.

Thankfully, the car is now insured, and Jamie is self-propelled once more. Though he still starts and ends his shifts in the dark, he’s grown oddly poetic about the sunrises and sunsets. Perhaps it’s the fumes. He did ask me the other day why his car was drinking petrol like a rugby team after a win. I suggested he try using 5th gear and go easier on the pedal. He assured me he already was. Yes, Jamie. Of course you are.

Harley, Jamie’s girlfriend, landed a Saturday job waitressing at the Red Lion in Welham. Naturally, we decided to go for lunch, purely to support local business, you understand, and give her a little live practice. She was mortified to see us stroll in, but it was good fun watching her try to serve our table while simultaneously pretending we didn’t exist.

Sarah invited Lee to stay at Willow Bank for a few days. She’s been busy with schoolwork and working her way through Gilmore Girls like it’s an endurance sport. She also went flying with the Air Cadets, or rather, she went taxiing. The cloud base was so low that they didn’t get airborne. Very environmentally friendly.

Sue’s schedule has been a whirlwind. She’s worked a couple of days in school recently, one at St Joseph’s, the other at Church Langton. In between, she squeezed in a lunch with Lynne Brown and coffee and cake with Lynne Keane. One day was especially heroic: up at 5 am for Jamie’s shift, on to Church Langton for planning, then off to Newark to meet Charlotte, accompanying her for a prenatal scan in Lincoln, then lunch, a spot of shopping, and the full Harborough return route, all before staying up late to plan her lessons for the following day. Superwoman! She looked utterly drained the next day. I wasn’t surprised she wasn’t called in again that week; someone must have seen the bags under her eyes and felt guilty.

As for me, I was summoned to Farndon Fields just after their OFSTED inspection. Or, so I thought. A teacher, Lucy, had collapsed (nothing to do with the inspection, apparently), so I stepped in. I had grand plans to share my pearls of wisdom with the inspectors, but they stayed holed up in a small room near the office like reclusive examiners, tapping away and ignoring the existence of actual children. They passed the school with a few “areas for improvement”, the same result as always. Comforting consistency, if nothing else.

I was later asked to accompany the class to the swimming baths. A thrilling hour of sitting poolside in sauna-like humidity, watching children paddle back and forth while I quietly stewed in my clothes. Sue called it “easy money”. She wasn’t wrong, though I’d have preferred to teach Literacy and Numeracy back in school to that damp purgatory.

On Friday, I was given a class dubbed “the worst bunch of kids in the school”. Naturally, I turned the day into a crime drama and cast myself as a bank robber. The children had to piece together the evidence using science, maths, and literacy. They failed to convict, clearly a commentary on the British justice system. Still, it was a hit.

I returned on Monday with hopes of teaching science, but was instead handed rigid Literacy, Numeracy and SEAL (Social and Emotional Asphyxiation Learning). Not exactly riveting. We did enjoy a Madonna video, but that was about it. I declined to come in the next day.

But then came another school emergency call. Sue was out all week, so I agreed to cover, for the company, warmth, and, let’s be honest, the free coffee. Same lively lot of reprobates. I rearranged the classroom to prevent any eye contact or whispering, essentially a seating plan designed by MI5. I laid out clear expectations and enforced them like a Victorian schoolmaster. And of course, it worked! The class were as good as gold (well, gold-plated), though they still managed to form a disorderly lunchtime conga line outside the Head’s office, courtesy of the dinner ladies.

The classroom setup leaves much to be desired. One shared computer between 31 pupils and three TAs, who seemed to be in constant strategic discussions during lessons, meant trying to get anything taught felt like queueing at the Post Office on pension day. And, don’t get me started on the school’s printer situation. One central machine for the entire school. It’s great for your step count, less so for your blood pressure. On one of the days, my carefully prepared worksheets were printed on landscape and were entirely useless; another time, the copier simply decided to print someone’s dissertation halfway through my worksheets. Mayhem.

I did enjoy the teaching, though. That might be a sign of madness.

Meanwhile, the lovely folks at the ‘Step-by-Step’ After School Club, run by past Farndon Fields staff who escaped the rigidity of the curriculum, asked me to design a new brochure. They’re expanding and doing well, probably because they are efficient, professional, and don’t rely on a single printer hidden three miles from civilisation. I visited them last week with the finished article, and I was pleased that no changes were needed. They’re a slick operation and a pleasure to support.

Charlotte, now free of morning sickness, has been to see Nan with Lucas. Nan welcomed them with the usual Yorkshire Stew, and Lucas had a kickabout in the garden with her, presumably while she refereed with a Zimmer frame. He later informed me that it had been “great fun playing football with Nan”, which suggests she’s more agile than we give her credit for.

Lucas’s recent check-up wasn’t the best news. One of his kidneys is underperforming, possibly blocked, and a bit shrivelled. He’s too young for surgery just now, but the connecting tube is healthy and there’s hope for improvement. Fingers crossed it doesn’t hold him back from his rugby ambitions, or his inevitable future career as a professional mischief-maker.

Finally, Suraj is still knee-deep in computers and eBay deals and working all hours. He’s either building an empire or planning a hostile takeover of Currys. Time will tell.

So, that’s January for us. Busy, barmy, occasionally baffling, but never uninteresting.