Prickles and Pongs

Bribery is the order of the day and, like a carrot, the children are allowed a couple at a time to peer in the box from a safe distance and say hello to the temporary new classmate…in return for producing the required piece of work beforehand. It works. Even the most reluctant scholar perks up and completes the allotted task on time! Unfortunately this coconut-sized bundle of prickles, seems allergic to its fellow students and keeps sneezing – unless it was Pandora’s new perfume which could also be used as an insect repellent as the weather warms up!
Prickles and pongs

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Gone

The whole class gets distracted by an almighty ‘thud!’ and clouds of dust billowing up outside our windows.  The children are allowed to line up along the sills and watch as the last part of the old school is demolished before our eyes.  The digger marches determinedly  up and over the huge bank of rubble while his mate claws her way through the debris, picking out pieces of roof tressel, loft beams and wooden edging strips from displays that were covered with our World War II topic work just a few weeks before. Caleb says that it looks like it must have done in the war.

From the newly revealed houses opposite, one of the residents takes a photo of the dust-blanketed Mercedes that sits huddled on his driveway. He gets in his car and dulled rear headlights emerge through the fog of disinterest that permeates the site.   Our teacher comments that her car is over there somewhere too.  With a rising sense of foreboding, I realise where my own is…directly behind the man-made mountain that now fills the space before our eyes.

Gleeful at having found such a handy parking space, one of many in a usually packed street, I dashed in to work without coming to a logical explanation for this unexpected bounty.

The children’s faces mirror my look of horror when I blurt out this realisation and they turn to me with round eyes and open mouths.

Thoughts of volcanic ash clouds and what happens to plane engines flit through my increasingly irrational mind as I go to collect my car. It has almost completely changed colour from a usual metallic green to a greying beige, glowering sullenly to me as I approach.  I offer a few words to any kind soul that might be listening before turning the key in the key in the ignition.

It is only us who are choked by the destruction of this place so filled with memories. The engine flares to life.

Minimal Word Monday – Crashing to Earth

9.12.13
Dust
Clouds
Settle.

Like Dr Who?

We are thinking about career paths in class today – ok they are only 8 years old but it’s good to plan ahead. Caleb tells me with a sneer that Sam wants to be a time traveller.
“You need to tell him that he can’t be one Miss!”
This proves to be a little harder than anticipated, Sam is adamant that is all he wants to be when he grows up.
“Maybe you could be an inventor and discover how to travel in time…?”
“What like in Back to the Future?” asks Caleb with round eyes.
“I want to be a Time Lord and save the world!”Sam can’t be dissuaded and at this point I am suspecting that he is suffering from Dr Who overload.

Caleb says he would like to act in some adventure movies. This seems to be a little more reasonable and something that we can work with (I am hoping that Sam will get inspired to think of something more suitable).
“I’d like to be James Bond and get lots of gadgets from a man in a white coat.”
There’s nothing like aiming high.
“So you need to work hard at maths, so you can crack codes, and technology so that you can work the gadgets Caleb.”

Harry decides to enlighten us as to his own plans.
“I want to be a prankster.”
I am a little perturbed at this.
“Do you mean a comedian?”
“No I want to play pranks on people.”
“Maybe a magician?” I am hopeful.
“No, just a prankster.”

I think it was easier talking to Sam about his plans to shift space and time…

Encouraging

A little mop-top boy and an enthusiastic smile accompanied by more words than have been uttered in a year. As though a lightbulb has been switched on, Daniel is animated and suddenly like a pint-size factfile.

It’s the little things that can make your day!

Flaming Longboats!

In the best tradition I put my foot in it. I take my father to Morrison’s to do his weekly shop and while he is trundling up and down the aisles I see an old parent from school. We chat about our children and what they are up to now and then he says that he is still enjoying knocking people on their heads with bits of metal (ie into his Viking re-enactment activities) and has been all around Scandinavia, rowing longboats and generally having a great time. I reply that “it’s all good experience!” and then depart to stick my flaming cheeks in the freezer with the frozen sausages – I had meant to say “It’s all AN experience.” What would it be good experience for exactly…wanting to become a Viking when he grows up?

From small stones

Small stony faces google out in varied directions, characters fixed by those eyes…those eyes…each a matched pair – yet not one the same. Uniquely odd are these pebble pals.IMG_3046

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