Advent calendars and Nativity plays

Today was our first practice in church of our impending Nativity play. Doing it in the school hall is too easy. It's far more challenging to erect the stage in the hall to practice for two weeks, then to dismantle it and take it down the road to the church, walk the children down there each day to practice further, dismantle it again for the week-end's services before setting it up again next Monday morning for our first performance in the afternoon.
However, I digress. My job is the music, which entails manipulating a console which makes Dr Who's Tardis look like childsplay, so I spent most of my time getting to grips with that. "See, you're enjoying it!" says the 33 year old PPA teacher. "Imagine - learning something new at your age," he continued before hopping around in howls of agony as I stamped on his foot. (No, not really - not in front of the children.)
In addition, I was darting out to the front to ensure that the children sang the right verses in the right order, rather than following their natural inclination to repeat the first verse each time.
Where it did get slightly challenging, however, was when the Reception teacher suddenly announced in my ear that one of her children had had an 'accident' and she would have to take him back to school to change him, so would I mind assembling the shepherds and then the wise men in the right order ready to make their entrance? - with my second pair of hands, of course.
By this time, having lost the will to live, I just nodded silently and hoped that enough of them would remember of their own accord.
Oh what fun we had!
Back at school, the children were just getting ready to go home when one of the boys noticed that some little so and so had attacked our Advent calendars (two as it's a large class), ripped open several of the flaps and made off with the chocolates.
A job for Sherlock Holmes tomorrow...

Really demob happy

A couple of weeks ago, having looked into the finances of it, I decided to take the plunge and opt for retirement from teaching at the end of this month instead of slogging it out until summer. So, this time, I'm doing it properly. When I finish my current contract in three weeks time, I shall say good-bye to teaching and concentrate on counselling as well as having time for all the other things I really want to do but don't have time for at the moment.
I have already taken a pile of books into school to be adopted by anyone who wants to give them a good home - what a good feeling that was!
There is still a degree of sadness that I feel so pleased at the prospect of finally leaving teaching but I've given it my best shot. When yet another new initiative, the Primary strategy, officially comes on board next September, this time, I shan't be worrying about it.

Christmas Spirit

Friday afternoon and one of my regular tasks at that time is to do the regular food shopping, which, I must confess, I find boring in the extreme. I am one of those people who is really not interested in food or cooking at all. Left to myself, I would quite happily exist on cheese on toast every day. However, as Keith is definitely not of the same persuasion, I find a weekly trip to Sainsbury's or some local equivalent is expected.
So, this Friday, off I went to Sainsbury's. The cashier at the check-out asked me if I would like help with packing and, as I said I would, began to pack my bags. Half way through, she lost interest (as they often do) and by the time the last few items had been scanned, I was on my own.
Thus it was that the total was announced and I was left to juggle my credit card payment and finish packing simultaneously. Card, retrieved, I moved to the end of the checkout and finished sorting out last lot of shopping, replacing credit card in purse and folding up receipt, whilst also moving trolley out of the way (so I thought) of next shopper. This (foreign) 'gentleman', however, was unimpressed by my efforts to get out of his way and, after glaring at me, suddenly used his trolley to ram mine out of his way.
"If you could just give me a minute..." I said.
"I've given you five minutes," was the reply. "You could see we were waiting."
"Rubbish!" I replied (Deputy Head mode asserting itself automatically.)
"You are rubbish," came the ripost.
"No," I replied, thoroughly nettled by this time, "Actually, you are rubbish!"
By this time, heads were turning and I was almost out through the door, to do battle with the endless queues snaking out of the carpark, hooting at each other in exasperation.
Christmas spirit comes early round these parts.

New Horizons

After a week in which we had two parents' evenings to add to an already busy schedule, which now includes regular practices for the Christmas play (I know - the C word should not be uttered before November is finished), I am confirmed in my decision that my retirement from teaching will be at the end of this term rather than struggling on with supply work until the summer. The difference in pension and lump sum for the extra two terms is negligible and more than compensates for being able to have my life back again and start doing what I want to do.
This evening I have just finished designing my leaflet for potential clients for my counselling practice and I have also been approached with a view to teaching part of the basic counselling course and the Gestalt certificate from next September, so with luck, I shall be able to keep the wolf from the door.
I suppose you have reach what the French politely refer to as 'a certain age' to appreciate more fully the desire to make the most of the time and opportunities still available. There are so many things I would still like to do and I don't suppose I'll manage more than a fraction of them, but I'm going to do my best - and being stuck in classrooms is not one of them!
PS
My counselling website, still in embryo state, is now live.

Spring zebras

Our school is currently collecting artwork for a calendar and my class was given the task of producing pictures to illustrate the month of April, so after spending a good 15 minutes showing them a short video clip of Spring, talking about which animals, plants, flowers, weather etc would be typical of April, I set them to work.
The artwork was varied, some easily recognisable, some of the more abstract persuasion, but I was particularly puzzled by L's offering. It was quite well drawn and easily recognisable as ...
a zebra.
"So did we mention zebras when we talked about Spring animals, L?" I enquired. "Are we likely to see zebras in this country?" (A little acerbic, perhaps, but it had been a difficult day and wasn't getting any better.)
"Well," L replied, obviously digging in for a lengthy argument on the subject, "You would see them in zoos, wouldn't you?"
"And were you supposed to be drawing a picture about the zoo?" I countered.
Hmm, thought not.
Tomorrow, we have a visit from Zoo Labs again. Just as well we got these pictures done beforehand.

Relaxing Sunday

A lovely autumn day off-roading around Glyn Ceiriog.

On the way

Keith has recently been spending his evenings working on a website for my counselling. (I'll share the address later when it is a little further on). It's getting exciting!
Something else, a little less exciting but potentially extremely useful, was a gift I received this week of something called 'Spider Stop'. No, it's not a hand grenade guaranteed to annihilate any spider within a 40 mile range, before YP and Ian start hurling insults again. It's a spray which has to be sprayed around doors and windows and anywhere else where you might suspect that the loathsome creatures might force an entry. It needs to be re-sprayed every two to three weeks and I am assured by the blurb on the bottle that its scent will definitely send the message to any arachnid skulking in the immediate vicinity that it is absolutely persona non grata chez Jennyta.

Watch this space for further updates... We could be winning here!