Spring comes early

These were the views as I walked this morning. It was a lovely, sunny day, a light breeze and quite warm. Yes, I know it's not natural in early February and it won't last, but it's so much more pleasant than all the rain and wind of the past few weeks. Now, as long as we can avoid the snow, we're sorted.

Nearly done

Well, we finally got round to ordering and putting up the blinds in the conservatory. It was a pity the desk collapsed in the process of being moved, but you can't have everything.

Time to party

Oh dear, 10 days since my last post. Where are the days and weeks going? How did I ever fit in working full time? I am now doing eight hours a week voluntary counselling and, slowly, things are beginning to move on the private front.

Meanwhile, here's a photo of last night's mini-reunion of some of us from last year's diploma course. (Apologies for the quality). See, I even have a social life now!

Ladies who lunch

Lunch today in Chester with the headteacher from my last school but one, the one which closed last summer. We exchanged 'retirement' stories, congratulated ourselves on having a bit of spare time to do our own thing and reminded ourselves of the importance of not 'stagnating' and making the most of all this wonderful free time.
Gill has the edge on me as she retired when the school closed and, although we have met up a few times since then, this was the first time since I finished. Usually, when teachers retire and meet up with former colleagues, they are congratulated on how good they look now that they are no longer bearing visible signs of the stresses of life in the classroom.
"You look well!" the cry goes up, and later, when the retiree has left, "Wow, she looks years younger/ so much better/ incredible!"
No-one has said that to me yet, so I am left to ponder on the two possible reasons for this:
a) I don't (look younger/better/healthier.)
b) I looked great to begin with and you can't improve on perfection!

I now await the brickbats and insults I just know are coming my way. ;)

Digging holes

Wrexham is plagued with roadworks and has been almost since I moved here, now coming up to five years ago. When I was working I got to the stage of experiencing a distinct sinking sensation every time I caught sight of a yellow sign on one of my usual routes. However, fond as the council/waterboard/Highways agency etc might be of digging up our roads, I think this one is maybe going a bit too far!
B4500, Dolywern, Trial holes, 2 way traffic lights for 3 days until Wednesday, 23 January '08 Delays expected <>

They need to PRACTISE???

Walking

One of my resolution for my 'new life' is to take exercise a bit more seriously. I have always quite enjoyed walking and when I had my lovely dog, Lucy we both enjoyed it very much. The times in my life when I loved walking and walked for miles were when I had a dog to go with me and when I had a pram to push. Now when I say pram, I don't mean these aerodynamic, lightweight buggy things which require a degree in engineering and origami to unfold them; I mean a proper sturdy pram with a hood and apron and four decent sized wheels, one that would provide a bit of support to the person pushing as well as the baby inside.

However, one can't keep having babies ad infinitum just for the sake of having a pram to push, so eventually I had to graduate to dogs. Paddy (Younger Son's dog really but guess who used to be on walkies duty?) had a mind of his own and after the cuddly puppy stage when he would walk a few yards and then sit in front of me begging to be carried, would generally end up taking me for a walk rather than the other way round. Commands like 'heel', 'slow down' and 'come back you little so and so' meant nothing to him and the idea of passing the time of day with other dogs in a civilised fashion was anathema. No, Paddy was more the canine equivalent of a thug where other dogs were concerned.

In recent years, Lucy became my companion and she too, did not take kindly to sharing the road with other dogs, although she was much more civilised about it than Paddy had been. In addition, Lucy was hard of hearing, a fact which she used to her advantage when she preferred to wander off where the fancy took her. For an old lady with arthritis, she could move surprisingly quickly too. She could spot a cat at 60 paces and chase it at 60 miles an hour.

It's taken me nearly two years since Lucy died to become interested in having another dog and I'm still waiting to hear whether Jake will come to live with us, but if he does, walks will become much more interesting again.

Pension

Final details of my pension arrived on the doormat today. If I'm careful, I should be able to get by without having to do any more supply teaching. Yay!!! So my collection of 'big books' can be donated, all the reams of planning, resources, guidance etc (how many forests have been decimated for all that?) can be recycled and I can reclaim some space on my bookshelves. Felt pens, coloured pencils etc can all be disposed of - no, wait a minute - I can put those to good use - ideal for art therapy.
And the whistle? Alternative uses for that do not immediately spring to mind. Any suggestions?