In 2004 I was teaching in Year 2 and carried out the last key stage 1 SATS. After that, 6-7 year olds would no longer be subjected to national tests. Teachers would be back in the driving seat and Teacher Assessment would rule again! (Cue wild applause)
Three years later, and I am back with Year 2 again and on a course ...
When the course begins with the information that you have the choice of using the tests and tasks from 2005 or 2007, you do begin to wonder how 'gone' these SATS are!
This evening, someone asked me what course I had been on today.
"Oh it was on the Key Stage 1 SATS, you know, the ones that don't exist any more," I replied.
She smiled.
"Oh yes, I understand, My husband was a head teacher till he retired three years ago. He couldn't wait to leave.
Traffic management
Should tractors travelling at about 12 mph perhaps NOT be on busy dual carriageways during rush hour times, thus causing all other vehicles to be in the outer lane as they overtake it?
Well it's just a thought...
I rather like Keith's idea. He thinks that there should be a third lane on my route to work, labelled with my name - you know, like that Crunchy Nut ad. I'm happy with that.
Well it's just a thought...
I rather like Keith's idea. He thinks that there should be a third lane on my route to work, labelled with my name - you know, like that Crunchy Nut ad. I'm happy with that.
Back to work
Back to work yesterday, along an almost empty road, no hold ups, no queues of traffic. It was eerie, almost reminiscent of a scene from one of those sci-fi films where aliens have abducted all the humans. Not a child in sight either, which meant, I think, that ours was the only school in the universe mad enough to be back at school so early in the new year and judging by the empty roads, it doesn't seem as if many other people are back at work yet either, at least in this area.
The next person to comment adversely on teachers' supposedly long holidays will get a kick where it hurts!
So there!
The next person to comment adversely on teachers' supposedly long holidays will get a kick where it hurts!
So there!
Lives of their own
I've never had much trouble with electricity and electrical gadgets until I moved to Wales. Things always worked more or less consistently and power cuts were very few and far between, apart from the so-called Winter of Discontent back in the seventies of course.
But here, power cuts happen surreptitiously. I can come home in the evening or get up in the morning to find that the clock on the microwave needs resetting or the answerphone is blinking and Sky goes off if there's so much as a hint of stormy weather ahead. And then there are the times that things around the house mysteriously develop a life of their own.
The washing machine decided today that washing the clothes was fair enough, spinning them was just too much trouble.
The kettle has become temperamental too. Now and again it boils... and boils... and won't switch off.
The digital radio in the bedroom refused to work while I was away last week but has behaved perfectly since my return.
And then there's Keith's grey computer (not the yellow one, you understand, the grey one). When I'm sitting alone in the living room late at night on my laptop and Keith's computer suddenly whirrs unbidden into life - well, it's a bit unnerving, to say the least.
But then, this is Wales.
You get used to it.
But here, power cuts happen surreptitiously. I can come home in the evening or get up in the morning to find that the clock on the microwave needs resetting or the answerphone is blinking and Sky goes off if there's so much as a hint of stormy weather ahead. And then there are the times that things around the house mysteriously develop a life of their own.
The washing machine decided today that washing the clothes was fair enough, spinning them was just too much trouble.
The kettle has become temperamental too. Now and again it boils... and boils... and won't switch off.
The digital radio in the bedroom refused to work while I was away last week but has behaved perfectly since my return.
And then there's Keith's grey computer (not the yellow one, you understand, the grey one). When I'm sitting alone in the living room late at night on my laptop and Keith's computer suddenly whirrs unbidden into life - well, it's a bit unnerving, to say the least.
But then, this is Wales.
You get used to it.
Christmas Day
Christmas day is when Keith and I take off into the wilds of North Wales for a picnic .... at least it usually is ...except for this Christmas day.
This Christmas day I had the beginnings of a migraine when I woke up. Not to worry, I assured Keith, it would soon go and I really wanted us to go out. After all it's so long since we last had a drive out. So off we went but by the time we reached Cerrigydrudion, Keith took matters into his own hands and decided that the corpse-like passenger beside him needed to go home to bed.
So we didn't even get as far as Pentrefoelas, which, as my regular readers will no doubt remember, is the only place in Wales which has accessible toilets on Christmas day.
Personally, I blame the brandy and Martini that Keith forced me to drink on Christmas Eve.
This Christmas day I had the beginnings of a migraine when I woke up. Not to worry, I assured Keith, it would soon go and I really wanted us to go out. After all it's so long since we last had a drive out. So off we went but by the time we reached Cerrigydrudion, Keith took matters into his own hands and decided that the corpse-like passenger beside him needed to go home to bed.
So we didn't even get as far as Pentrefoelas, which, as my regular readers will no doubt remember, is the only place in Wales which has accessible toilets on Christmas day.
Personally, I blame the brandy and Martini that Keith forced me to drink on Christmas Eve.
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