Tuesday, 28 March 2017

A Leap into the Unknown Event Horizon

beep beep lettuce japan translation failUgh! 2 tests today, spelling and grammar. And we still haven't got our results back from the first one.
Still, these ones were shorter. The talkative Child A from yesterday learned from his mistakes and wasn't disqualified today. Perhaps we're all getting used to these oppressive 'Examination Conditions'. Later I broke up with a friend in a totally terminal way, honest, unlike all the previous times.
And I was just sitting at home doing homework (where else?) when Bud came home an hour early and instantly went right off again to a job interview he didn't know about this morning. Gave me more time on the computer.

Monday, 27 March 2017

Mocking the Week

happy holidays drive safe messageWell, here it is at last, almost. The SATs are pretty well the first exams we've ever met, and therefore we haven't truly met 'Exam Conditions' before. Teachers have been talking about this for months, with phrases such as 'There's no need to be nervous' and 'Some people think this is terrifying', clearly all designed to palpitate us into an early grave by way of myocardial infarction.
So we have this thing called 'Mocks' which is where you do last years' exam under these new-fangled exam conditions, and then the teachers get to identify the pupils that run away, wet themselves, stick pencils up their noses and go wibble, talk incessantly, hyperventilate, sleep, or otherwise stray from the straight and narrow.
So for the first exam of the week, we did English Comprehension, where you read a passage and answer questions on it. Child A has a new hairstyle and talks to himself sotto voce, where sotto voce is loud enough to be heard in the next room. So we did our exam to a constant background hum of 'OK, so that's question 3 done, woohoo, wonder what question 4 is like, gosh isn't my hair all groovy and cool'. Child B cannot shut up, ever, so he was disqualified from the entire exam for babbling even while being told to shut up. This may not be something he gets over until he is dead, and several of us wanted to help him down that shining path.
boy in hoodie mooching in recreation ground
A member of another class walked up to the front and demanded to urinate so loudly (the demanding, not the desired urination) that he was placed in a neighbouring room, from which he could still be heard whining. And being disqualified. Yet another saucy student produced 2 1/2 litres of silent but deadly marsh gas from his rear sphincter, not all distractions are noisy. Now, while generations past may remember gymnasia full of neatly arranged single-person desks with studious silent students busy filling their fountain pens, being patrolled by a Sports master and a Latin teacher each with canes, it is no longer the case and you're not able to train a child to be quiet in 2 easy moves by hitting him on the back of the head every time he talks. So we wonder just how the teaching staff will provide us with a calm environment in which to sit our exams, without giving us all our own toilet cubicle on different planets.
Later my class visited the same church where I spent Saturday night and we heard about easter, and how celebrating a dead Arimathean was so much better than the pagan fertility festival that preceded it. Then I brought Ben home and nobody had graffiti-ed on our gate and we went to the park in the glorious sunshine.

Sunday, 26 March 2017

Mother's Day: an in-tents celebration

So after the parents left last night we played tag and had hot dogs and cake. Lots of people had brought cake but the biggest and most chocolatey one was claimed by the deserving Leaders. The half oil-drum fire thing on which we frazzled our marshmallows yesterday destroyed quite a lot of the church garden by spewing embers in the wind so we weren't allowed to have a real camp-fire, because there was no dedicated fire-pit in a suitable location. And while there were all these stone tombs around, just saying.
Anyway so the Leaders made a pretend camp-fire out of sticks with crunched-up coloured paper inside for the flames, then made a big show of dancing around it saying it was hot. There followed many traditional camp-fire songs such as the Quartermaster's Stores: one was 'The cat dragged Nellie by the belly around the farm' and you had to sing it really quickly and we could make up our own verses and I had basically a genteel rap battle with Flynn.
At 10pm we went to bed and by midnight I was asleep. Various Leaders had to patrol up and down with shotguns all night because you could see the tents from the road and we didn't want drunken pub-goers causing mayhem. But the rest of us got some sleep.
boy scout loading wagon with camping equipmentToday we tidied up and did the church service for Mother's Day and I read out one of the responses which was 'Soften with a mother's gentleness all the hardness of human hearts. May the holy family of Nazareth bring blessing wherever people live together. Draw all races and nations to be one family in your love. Lord, in your mercy...' and then everyone else had to say 'hear our prayer'. So there was another public performance under my belt. Then the parents came and we took all the unused wood away to put in our garage for the next camp which shall have a decent place for a fire. Funnily enough, even though the oil-drum was burning for ages, we actually made a profit on wood as some other Scouting parents had brought some, so we went back with more than we delivered, and Jof had to walk home as there was no space in the car.
I spent the rest of the day on the sofa because that's when it catches up with you, and I was tired right up until bathtime. I gave Jof my special Mother's Day Simnel cake with the 11 marzipan nobs on representing the disciples.

Saturday, 25 March 2017

Camp! And Getting Dirty

Saturdays are good because I can get as much time as I like Youtubing on the tablet, Minecrafting, X-Boxing, Phineas-and-Ferbing, and numerous other gently interactive screen-based activities. But it was not to be.
Jof and I were force-fed cheesy scrambled eggs on toast with bacon, a tough job but someone has to do it. Then we abandoned my dear mother and loaded up the car with these pre-packed boxes of wood and kindling and cakes for the Scout Demonstration Camp, not a political protest movement but a chance for all the parents to see what naughty shenanigans their little Scoutlets get up to, and where their money goes.
We ditched (neatly stacked) the pile of boxes (I am being a judge with my rubber mallet and condemning miscreants) at the church up against the Vicar's garage. We were first there so it was nice to leave a surprise for the Scout leaders, hiding the cakes in the middle of the pile. The church hall was playing host to a Slimming World meeting and we very nearly waved the cakes at them. Then we drove north through heavy football-related traffic to endless suburbia "Waterlooville".
There we had arranged with a gasman called Kamlesh to take away his no-longer-used basketball hoop and stand to use as a mobile indoor flagpole for the Scouts, who don't have a decent flagpole in the church meeting room by the little canteen.
We fought with it because its nuts and bolts and screws and washers were quite rusty and dirty having been outside for 7 years and we all got dirty and muddy and the screwdriver broke and we loaded it into the car with difficulty and gave him a pony (£25) for his trouble.
Then we had to unload it into our back yard and I got even dirtier but not as dirty as 'The wife' apparently because we'd seen loads of dirty cars with 'wish my wife was this dirty' written on the back in the dust, and the mud and the blood and the beer (Johnny Cash).
So I had a shower, knowing I would miss out tonight. Then I hurriedly ate lunch and some of Bud's lunch and took Sydney to acting where we had a real laugh trying to distract each other from saying our lines, as practise for when the audience are heckling us in the play.
And I left at 4pm and high-tailed it back to the church where most of the demonstrations were over but we ran around in and out of the tents and hid biscuits for later and frazzled some marshmallows on the fire made of our own destroyed wood pallets and the Beavers successfully burnt some kindling and gosh darn it, this is the life.
It was a lovely day in the sunshine (see seafront here) but will be a bit nippy tonight, lucky I have clothes, but don't always wear them.

Friday, 24 March 2017

Crimson Nasal Comedy Day 2017

red nose on penis costumeslippery staircase fail funnySo we were allowed to wear red clothes and noses if we paid a quid to Comic Relief. I did this and wore my Navy top. In PE we did cricket again but I'm not a natural batsperson and didn't hit many balls so all the sporty types jeered and laughed and taunted and I still didn't throw my bat at them.
The parents say that when the sporty types get 2/10 in maths I have to say well the country will always need drivers for the bin lorries and those nice people that say hello and welcome to walmart.
Later I met Sham and Okely Dokely online (on phones) for some gaming action and Bud went to the pub with all the people from his old work. I have to get some rest tonight because it's all about to kick off tomorrow.

Thursday, 23 March 2017

Beast from the 4th Declension

when you get your tax return and start buying stupid shitUsual stuff, 17/20 in the maths test. When I got home I got the pizza ready because sometimes I am almost human. I needed an early supper because of another Wind-in-the-Willows rehearsal and we got there dead on time.
I still haven't got my costume sorted but given the amount of actors, that's not surprising. We went through various scenes and I read in for missing players and I loved the Gangster Weasels, very threatening in their ninja outfits. We also have a comic scene where Hedgehog gets run over by a car.
scene of terror attacks march 2017 london Speaking of which, the heavily armed Policepersons were again in evidence outside all our naval bases and similar terrorist targets following the incident in London yesterday. I have stood on that bridge many times and looked through those same railings: and I'll be going back.
Taking Sydney home from acting, she again farted as she got out of the car. I am not sure if this is a deliberate policy or she just can't help it.

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

'Ere 'Ere

fast food man fat bastardUnderwent the usual roundelay of mathematical conundra and English constructions, all designed to ensure that when I grow up, I have Friends with Benefits, not Friends on Benefits. In PE, Benchball is popular with the whole class and today my team won, with me getting the winning catch! If only I was a little taller.
And in the afternoon I got a very annoying earache, not brought on by being castigated by termagants, or chatted to by Grandad for 30 minutes. He taught me more about π. I'd already done co-ordinates in maths so he enjoyed hearing about that and my acting and Scouting but not the amusing back gate incident, I don't think he knows words that modern.
Later we watched the end of Matrix II which was too long to see in one sitting. The remainder lasted 3 minutes. But St Neots saved Trinitrotoluene by removing a virtual bullet and Morphines' ship was blown up by some mechanical octopi. So for no reason whatsoever, here is a man who knows what he loves and is deliberately expanding his artistic body canvas.