Week 7

Damn...forgot my book bag!

Oddly enough I’m chomping at the bit* to get back to class this week. Missing a week is like torture for me (god I’m sad – but hey at least i'm keen!). I’m not even worried that I have to give my presentation. I’m fully prepared since I have been practising on the girls teddies over the holidays, one got detention, and the rest a pat on the back for doing well. (I suppose at this point you think I have gone completely mad, but bare with me I’ll come sane again soon).

So after kicking off from the stalls and racing to school I sat down to a lesson on Gender differences in education and the underachievement of boys. Lets face it boys, girls are beating your arses at school these days! So stop styling your hair, rearranging your jewellery and get past the metrasexual urges, start studying to get those grades up again! (Obviously this is my own personal thoughts as to why boys are underachieving and there are of course many other factors contributions towards it)

After revelling in fellow female success, we moved onto a questionnaire about our own experiences at primary and secondary school. We were asked if boys and girls were separated in any classes throughout our schooling…as far as I can remember this was a huge no for me, but found the rest of the girls around my table had experienced some form of separation during Maths and in particular physical education. For some reason they had rather sexist teachers, who would absolutely not let girls play football and basketball and boys could not play netball and hockey. I recall the boys in our school never volunteering to play netball, as they were all trying to be macho, which looking back now is laughable as they were all weeds! But they were never stopped if they wanted to

Another interesting question that cropped up was what types of games we used to play at Primary school and did boys and girls mix? A lot of girls wrote kiss chase, so I suppose the boys did play although probably not voluntarily. My childhood games were of course British bull dog! - You must remember that one? – I don’t know any kids that hasn’t played that game at school…excluding possibly children now days since teachers believe it’s too rough, but what’s a bloody nose and a few bruises to the entertainment of the whole school. It was of course a game of pure brawn and weeds didn’t fair off so well, which is probably why we were so keen to make it to the top class!**

And finally the lesson ended with the hidden curriculum, which was quite a shock to some of us as we were still trying to work out what was on the unhidden curriculum? I’ve narrowed it down to Science, English, Maths, Geography, History, Art, Music, DT, IT, PE and some sort of foreign language, which I believe up here is French and/or German so my limited Spanish is all but useless,.

*So is it chomping or champing at the bit? I remember having a debate with someone about this and don’t recall a conclusion, if there was one? We may have both given in to each others stubbornness by saying we were both correct?

**A surprising thought that just occurred was my glasses never broke while playing this game; maybe my parents had some merit in making me wear unbreakable plastic blocks?

Week 6

As mentioned is a half term, so everyone is on a weeks holiday…sigh! :-(

Week 5

Even though I reached the bus station 15 minutes before my bus was due, I still ended up waiting 30 minutes before departing for Cosham, and consequently ended up being 10 minutes late for college. To make matters worse, when I reached the hidden crèche classroom it was empty, although further investigation revealed a note on the white board saying “We have moved to H block room 52”…great!

I have been to H Block before (sounds like a prison doesn’t it?), as this is where I had my first encounter with the “Spagnets”. It’s only just across the path, but room 52 is situated at the top of this 4 story building, that appears to have been built before humans got lazy and lifts were invented, as it only harbours a half meter squared dumbwaiter and I’m confident it’s not worth trying to squeeze in there!

Stumbling through the door and gasping for breath I was now 20 minutes late for class. Fortunately…so was the tutor, as she strolled in two minutes later. While she got organised she asked the class to state “What motivates us in the mornings?” since this would lead nicely into the lesson on Motivation in Education (sounds catchy, but don’t be fooled by it rhythmic lyrics – it’s a tangled mess of drive, humanist, behaviourist, cognitive and attribution theories – Doesn’t sound so attractive now does it!) Most people were quite serious and philosophical with their “I want to make a difference to the community” and “I want to prove to myself I can do it” speeches. Others said they just want to be teachers. It was soon my turn and I squeaked “I just love to learn!” since I was still gasping for breath and it’s actually the truth - I can honestly say I’m buzzing with excitement two days after lessons. (I hope it’s not just a novelty and will wear off with time).

We were shown 5 different theories of motivation and stressed to read up and compare at least two of them, since we will need the evidence and knowledge for our 3 hour written exam on “Motivation theories” in January…yikes! (This worries me a bit as we are not allowed computers, which I reply on for spelling and grammar checks plus can easily cut and paste sentences to make them flow better – Odd that I don’t use these functions to clean up my blogs then?)

After a few handouts on more motivation theories it was time for us to give our presentations. (Sorry I forgot to mention this - Last week we were tasked with creating a 5-10 minute presentation to perform in front of the class) I’m shaking with excitement or is that fear? Either way it didn’t matter as we ran out of time and a few of us were told to wait until next week to give ours. This of course would turn out to be two weeks later as the next week was half term and everyone in Education was on holiday…nothing like prolonging the torment!

Week 4

and..our Physics teacher stinks!

Beginning to get more confident about going to class this week, and feeling bad about missing last week, I promised myself I would contribute to discussions today. Although that went straight out the window when the aims were written on the board…Identify perspectives on learning, the behaviourist approach to learning and the humanist approach to learning.

It would appear everyone had been told last week to read up about this before coming in. So I did what I’m good at…sitting, writing notes and nodding my head in agreement or disagreement with the class. I did however get a chance to speak for a moment, as we were asked to state our worst subject in secondary school, why we disliked it and what factors contributed towards the experience.

Mine was Physics and was mainly due to the teacher! He didn’t give any assistance when struggling; although we never wanted him to since he had atrocious personal hygiene!

Before I continue any further, I should state this was not during the time Tim Cotter was teaching us Physics, as he was actually a good teacher and even though I had that blank expression on my face Tim, I was taking some of it in, or at least I hoped the head nodding would show I was still awake (or nodding off?). Although I could indirectly blame you for my bad experience of Physics, since it was your fault for resigning before I completed my GCSE’s and the school replaced you with the worst teacher in the world!

Anyway where was I…oh yes the appalling hygiene – Fellow classmates tried giving him hints by leaving a bottle of “head and shoulders, anti dandruff” shampoo on his desk. I still have no idea what he did with the bottles (and frankly don’t want to know!), but knew he never used the shampoo for washing! And he most certainly had no idea what deodorant was! Hell…the toilets in the boys cloakroom (don’t ask how I know that!) smelled better!

He couldn’t control the class and more often than not we would be doing our homework from other classes during his lessons. The lessons were dull as they were taught in a monotone didactic style, so if you’re not aiming at a career in engineering then your attention is hard to hold in physics anyway without making it drearier!

It was basically an awful two years of Physics lessons and I’m sure I only scraped a D because I remembered everything from the previous 3 years with Mr Cotter, that and forced myself to open a GCSE Physics book – Trust me this is surprisingly hard for a 15 year old adolescent, who had little to no interest in wanting to become either a Physics teacher or Engineer!.

Week 3

If you haven’t fallen asleep yet you will probably be pleased to know I missed week 3, so have nothing to write about…and it was on Vygotsky and Bruner two more scholars darn it!

My Piaget Essay's

Piaget’s Theory of Child Development

Jean Piaget a Swiss scholar (1896-1980) became most famous for his theory that children pass through four stages of cognitive development.

The sensori-motor stage is the basis for zero to two year olds. Here babies begin to build up schemas as they adapt to their surroundings, although at a very early age their behaviour consists simply of reflex responses. They are believed to be extremely ego-centric and are unable to perceive object permanence until eight months of age. Symbolic functions and language begin developing towards the end of this stage.

The pre-operational stage is the basis for two to seven year olds, which Piaget divides again into two periods; the pre-conceptual period, for two to four year olds, and the intuitive period, for four to seven year olds. He suggests children are unable to envisage multiple dimensions and have difficulty focusing on more than one characteristic of objects. Children’s symbolic thinking and language skills are developing rapidly but they are still unable to think logically and prefer visual references to problem solve. Piaget believed this was due to their ego-centrism, which in turn was assumed a possible key factor in children’s animism. Towards the end of this stage they do however begin to think operationally and logically as they are continually assimilating and accommodating existing schemas and adapting new schemas to enable them to achieve a state of equilibrium.

The concrete operational stage is the basis for seven to eleven year olds where their ego-centrism disbands. Operational thinking is consolidated and conservation fully attained. The formal operational stage is basis for eleven year olds to adults. At this level individuals are able to use logical thinking and reasoning and can think abstractly.

Number of Words 287

Expected Classroom Observations about Piaget’s work

I have been able to secure a placement with Leesland Junior School, where I will be assisting the year three teacher with her class of seven to eight years olds. At this age children are in the earliest period of the concrete operational stage according to Piaget’s cognitive development theory.

I believe the children will have lost or are beginning to lose their ego-centrism and therefore be able to decentre and appreciate the views of their class mates, while in open discussions. Language will be well developed and children will be concentrating on fine-tuning this, by learning to speak, spell and write words outside their vocabulary. Since Piaget believed dis-equilibrium would be experienced as unpleasant the children may find this activity reasonably challenging.

Children should be well practised in mental reversal by now according to Piaget and therefore should easily consolidate and fully attain conservation. They will also be able to conserve numbers, but may still have trouble with mass at this stage. They will probably begin problem solving without visual references to encourage them to enhance operational thinking, but when given a visual problem will be able to solve it easily.

Number of words 198

These scored me a nice 77% equating to a grade B - I'll have to try harder next time!

Week 2

I learned from my actions last week and managed to behave like a complete adult all day this week – It was surprisingly easy to be mature…sip tea, take notes and nod head approvingly or disapprovingly with rest of class and most importantly…don’t speak!

After some intense reading, which turned into discussions and debates (Not speaking would prove hard during this, but I thankfully sat next to a very vocal lady, so no-one noticed me not contributing to the conversation) on the Jean Piaget theory, we were tasked with a game the tutor called “Splat”. She wrote all the terms we had learned today, randomly on the board, and then asked for two volunteers to come to the front of the class – Of course no-one offered, so she picked two people anyway (Don’t you love teachers when they do that!) The rest of the class would then ask questions, relating to a word on the board and the first person to splat (slap their hand) on the board over the correct word won, so they could sit down and the next victim could go up…this is what we get for not volunteering to go first!

The game was actually quite good fun and I wasn’t that nervous when my turn came about. Most people had had a go already and I was now familiar with each term, which if you’re interested is:-

Sensor-motor Stage – The first stage (age 0-2) of Piaget’s theory of cognitive development

Pre-operational Stage – The second stage (age 2-7) of Piaget’s theory

Concrete Operational Stage – The third stage (Age 7-11) of Piaget’s theory

Formal Operational Stage – Last stage (11+ year olds) of Piaget’s theory

Cognitive – Of knowledge

Schemas – Mental files of information

Animism – Where objects are believed to be alive
Ego-Centric – Can not distinguish between self and others
Object permanence – Younger children disregard an objects existence when it disappears from sight.
Accommodation – Existing schemas are changed to accommodate information
Adaption – When a new schemas is created
Reflex – React without thinking
Equilibrium – Perception of the world fits existing schemas
Conservation – Understanding objects remain the same even if transformed
Dis-Equilibrium – Discontent about change and new experiences
Assimilation – New information is tagged onto existing schemas

I suppose unless you are studying Piaget or sitting the Education and teaching module this will mean nothing to you? So sorry about that.

At the end of the lesson we were set our first assignment – A 300 word essay on Piaget’s theory...joy!

Week 1

I’m only attending college every Wednesday at the moment, as I am on a two year access course in teaching (It can be done in one year, but I have family commitments and finances are limited). From 9:30-12:45 is the education and teaching module. We normally take a break around 11am to go to the toilet and grab another cup of tea – Its great being a grown-up at school, as we are allowed cups of tea in class! Half an hour for lunch goes rather fast before heading to the Study Skills lesson from 13:15-14:45. And that’s it…not very pressing at the moment, but from January I will be going to Psychology on Thursdays and Biology on Fridays, so will be attending college three days a week, which should keep me on my toes for a while.

My first week of this 2 year course was such a rush of blood to the brain, my cells almost stopped functioning, which might explain why I sat in the classroom lifeless, with a blank expression on my face for the first half hour?

It took 10 minutes to actually find the classroom (If that’s what you could call it?) behind the sports hall. It was more like a crèche, with toys, board games and video’s cluttering this tiny space - the only thing that was missing was kids! Although after breaking the ice with comments like:

Where our name tags were on the meter high coat hooks?
How nice the mural was on the wall,
And “Oh wow Peter Pan – I haven’t sent that in ages!” while scanning the video collection
I guess you could say that position was filled, although disguised in the body of a 26 year old!

I found a spare seat amongst the 15 other people crammed in, and thankfully they didn’t lean away from this peculiar person that had just invaded their class. (I am of course a newbie here, since I missed the first week of the course because of my late application). A few minutes later the tutor arrived a bid us “Good morning”. Every bone in my body wanted to burst out “Goooood mooooorning Miiiiss! In that very childish voice, but thankfully I managed to pull myself together and just utter a “Morning” instead…phew! That was close; I’m going to have to shake this childlike behaviour off quick!

It didn’t take long either, with the first task being an essay on “Why we want to be teachers?” This was quite a shock to me, since I haven’t put a pen to paper in some time and…Why do I want to be a teacher? I still haven’t quite worked it out myself, it just feels like the right thing to be doing right now, but that’s not going to fill an A4 page!

Now noticing everyone had already started writing while I was lost in my thoughts I hastily started to write…anything. And here it is…

Why be a teacher?

My first introduction to teaching was a 2 two week work experience course, while still at school myself. There I assisted the teachers in the Reception and Pre-school classes. Reception was the most enjoyable for me as the children had passed the playing and having fun stage and were beginning to actually learn skills like writing and counting.

I would like to become a Primary school teacher in the higher age range (about 7-11), although have not completely decided on my chosen subject yet.

Science is an area where I would be comfortable, preferably in Chemistry and/or Biology as when I was a student these were my favourite subject choices. This area would also prove satisfying as it has much responsibility, but the excitement of practical experiments.

Other core subjects choices would be Geography. Although I have limited knowledge in this area it was always a subject the held my attention in class and would again be an entertaining experience to teach.
Wrong word eg you are not going to learn geography to be entertained are you?

Just being a teacher would be an achievement and would have great job satisfaction. To be able to teach people to learn new skills and achieve great things in life is would be very rewarding.

Very clear, well structured, however please note my comments Marie. Good start!

(Tutors comments and marks in red)

I know…what a load of tripe eh? But in my defence I panicked!

The funny part, reading back, is my favourite subjects were actually Art and Music! Science followed closely afterwards though, but admittedly the "excitement of practical experiments" is just playing with the Bunsen burners and dissecting organs!

The geography lesson probably held my attention more for the fact the teacher (Mr Clark) was hot!

And don’t ask me what I was thinking writing that last paragraph…what an arse licker! Ah well at least the tutor was kind to me.

So after that shocker we continued the lesson with an introduction on Mr Jean Piaget (a Swiss scholar). And that’s where I’ll stop, as we continue with Piaget next week!

Want to be a Teacher?

After attending my last lesson at Highbury college this year (since I will be going to my school placement for the last 4 weeks, but will explain that later), I realised I haven’t shared anything with you about my experiences (except the spagnets!). So I propose to do so in a series of blogs coming soon…

Double Decker

Why do they put the number on the back of the bus too…

So they can rub in the fact that you've just missed it!

Glasses

This isn’t me - I'm not silly enough to actually post a picture of my most embarrassing glasses days!

A word I have never liked unless used in the context “Would you like glasses with your beers?”

I have never had great eyesight, although I’m not completely blind I am just short sighted, but went through my childhood wearing a thick pair of goggles…highly embarrassing, particularly in secondary school! - Enhanced by my parents picking my glasses for me, a stunning pair of blue plastic rimmed milk bottles! – Apparently I would have broken the metal rimmed ones – I’m still thinking it’s a form of torture!

During the final years of school I neglected to wear them as much as possible and still managed ok. Although the teachers were wondering why I was sitting at the front of the class as opposed to my preferred…way in the back, where they can’t single you out for questioning (which I should add doesn’t always work unless you have a tall person in front of you). It actually proved better in the front as the teacher seemed to look right over you and single out the middle and back rows*

When I left school and began working, I stopped wearing my glasses all together as I was employed as an Agricultural Assistant**, which mainly consisted of farm labour type work and glasses were sure to be lost or broken, especially while wrestling sheep, digging post holes and being zapped by an electric fence…Ah…fond memories – Still reluctant to touch wire fences today!

After two years there I decided this casual labour lark was for mugs, especially in winter! So went and found myself an office job (which oddly enough was horrible during summer – can’t win can you?!) Another draw back of gong to work in an office was I had to give in and go to the opticians, as starring at a computer screen for 8 hours a day is not good for the eyes, especially when you are squinting to see the screen in the first instance.

So £108.00 later I had myself a new pair of stylish metal glasses (Parents were not allowed anywhere near the selection process this time!) and I begun to wear them more frequently. Until one of my girls broke the leg off them and I had to tape it back on like Jack Duckworth in Corrie Street. Not an attractive feature and they rarely appeared out of the glasses case from that moment.

I haven’t worn my glasses for almost a year now and discovered them while clearing out the house down south. For some reason I brought them with me (possibly thinking of getting them fixed here?), but before I could get that far they were attacked by the miniature monsters and are now minus a piece of glass, one leg has gone all together and the other is still taped up. I had a go at fixing them, but couldn’t see the tiny screw to fix the leg back on...Ironic or what - I need glasses to fix my glasses!

After quite a lot of cursing, swearing and hunting around the carpeted floor for 10 minutes looking for the tiny screw I had just dropped, I gave up. So I’m back to squinting at the computer screen and holding books up to my nose to read – Oh well I guess I’ll go to an optician here one day?

“So there’s an idea kids – If you are particularly shy and dread reading out loud or answering questions chances are you will be missed in the front row – I’m sorry if this doesn’t work remember it was some 10 years ago!

** I did actually achieve the required grades to go onto college, but decided to stay back, get a job and go training later.

Wind Farms

Recently the Falkland Islands have been taking huge leaps in development, with the introduction of three massive wind turbines, on their wind swept grasslands, near the local Abattoir.*

While chatting with my parents the other night they happened to comment on how bad the weather has been lately. It’s supposed to be summer there now, but they have experienced everything from wind, rain and even snow! Just like here then, but we are approaching winter! Mum even went as far to say that she has never encountered this much wind at this time of year before. It was at that moment it struck me! Is it just a coincidence that it has been especially windy since the wind turbines were installed?

It would be interesting to get some statistics from the Met Office to see if my theory is correct? If so the Islands should start using this extra wind to their advantage. They could bottle the fresh air up, label it “SWEET FA” and sell it off to the smog filled cities around the world. (I’d like to stamp a copyright on this idea before anyone starts making any real money from it too!)

I recall a few stories when these massive structures were first being suggested to the islanders, and the various comments in the weekly paper that followed.

How would the sheep feel about eating in a field with a massive propeller whizzing and buzzing above there heads – How would they sleep at night with the noise? They will be scared and therefore traumatised before going into the abattoir, which will lead to meat being tougher – Somehow I think the fact sheep dying in front of them is the only trauma they are going to encounter before getting zapped themselves, not the piece of metal taking up good grazing!

Would Police be spending more time piecing together bits of geese that had mysteriously begun splattering the fields around the abattoir to determine the cause of death?

MOD Tornados now have another object to miss, unless they are trying to get points for hitting aerials? (About a year ago there was an encounter when, while buzzing the town one of the tornados clipped a television aerial on a small hill. Locals were fuming when they missed Eastenders that night!)

And men may become balder? If they already have weak hair follicles they will struggle to remain embedded in the scalp, which (if caught in time) could be another little money earner…making wigs – otherwise a hat shop might be a good addition to town?

And hey if none of these ideas take off I suppose they could set-up sheep psychology sessions?

* These are not the first wind turbines in the Islands - they have been introducing smaller wind turbines to farms for a few years now.

Socks

It’s not quite winter but it certainly feels like it at the moment with temperatures getting as low as 1 degree outside already!

This said I decided to go to bed with my socks on last night, for a little extra warmth, as even though you get plenty of space in a double bed, without the human water-bottle that normally sleeps next to me it’s bloody freezing!

After wrapping the duvet around me as if being squeezed by a boa constrictor, and burying my nose into the pillow (no comments thanks!), I was set for a good warm sleep.

As always the girls were up and running around the bedroom pestering me for breakfast by 7:30am. The alarm is normally set for this time anyway, but I like to lay for a minute, to wake up, before leaping into the cold air and scrambling around for clothes. (I sometimes wonder if I even need an alarm when the girls are like clockwork).

I forced my eyelids apart and turned to two smiling faces eagerly awaiting me. Then I felt a kick in my back…Katie had somehow sneaked into my bed and was quite happily snoring away behind me. After miming “one…two…three” to myself while rocking back and forth I hauled myself out of bed – “Wholly crap its cold!” I croaked in my best morning voice.

Quickly finding my trousers and a warm jumper I then realized I wasn’t wearing any socks - I thought I left them on last night? They must have slipped off, and will be lying at the bottom of the bed, so I lifted the duvet (much to Kate’s disapproval), but nothing. Maybe I didn’t put them on? So I looked around the floor and under the bed, still nothing? Oh well - I needed a fresh pair anyway, so bent down to the draw, still mystified about the missing socks, when I caught sight of something stuffed under my pillows. I lifted the top pillow up and sure enough both socks were lying there, sprawled out as if they were supposed to be there!

I have no recollection of even touching my socks yesterday, which is why I could have believed they slipped off my feet during the night, and were sitting at the bottom of bed, but under my pillow? What’s that all about, and how on earth??

Autumn Leaves

As autumn ends and winter begins to set in, I have only just realised this is my first autumn with leaves!

It’s not because the Falklands don’t have any trees…hell they must have at least 50 dotted over the 4,700 square miles of grassland! Ok…so that’s not very many in the grand scheme of things, but at least they are not like that place that only has 5 or so trees and the locals have gone as far as naming each one! (When I remember where it is I’ll let you know)…No the trees in the Falklands are mostly conifers, so don’t change colour or loose any leaves in the colder seasons.

So now I’m taking it all in being in the UK, enjoying the beautiful colours of parks and the trees lining our street. Even our little Fig tree is nearly naked now!

It’s almost hypnotic watching the leaves fall from the branches, gently spiralling and dancing there way down to the ground where they come to rest. It’s almost romantically poetic until you continue their journey. Being brushed, raked and blown into a pile on the road and not very graciously sucked up into a miniature street cleaning vehicle!

So, on that note I’m off for a walk to kick a few piles of leaves around before the next council truck comes along…hehehe.

Fountain of Yuck

A quiet evening, (more so now with Dan not home - not saying he’s noisy or anything), the girls are in bed and I’m skyping a cute sailor aboard the James Cook. As he heads off to get some sleep before going on watch I hear some movement upstairs…great! Who’s out of bed this time?

It was Katie and she was complaining about feeling ill, after some comfort she decided she would be ok, so I escorted her back to bed and returned downstairs to shut down everything. A few minutes later I hear movement upstairs again and then that awful sound…splat! A watery splat! By the time I get to the stairs Katie is there looking down, projectile vomiting. (If it wasn’t so disgusting I would have congratulated her for getting the distance she did).

Judging the pauses between vomiting I darted upstairs and quickly guided her to the toilet. After cleaning her up I asked if she wanted to stay in my room tonight – As she is a sensitive soul and would probably prefer to have mum around when she’s being sick, plus I could get her to the toilet quickly! This was however a big mistake and after cleaning the stairs and finishing downstairs, Kate was back out of bed and giving the carpet another good covering!

As I cleaned her up for the second time she asked to go back to her bed, so I tucked her up and placed a bowl next to the bed. As I came back to clean the stairs I noticed why Katie was so keen to get back in her bed…she hadn’t just covered the carpet on the stairs with her peas, carrots and what looks like tuna, she had covered my bed too! Where does it all come from? Her stomach must be like a tardis…larger on in inside!

She finally went to sleep and I slept in a half made bed (Since I only changed the sheets two days ago and hadn’t washed and dried them yet!) that smells of sick…lovely!

Guess I’m going to miss school tomorrow too…sigh!

Can you see us waving?

This isn't the James Cook, but I'm sure Dan will have an idea of what ship it is - He's geekishly amazing like that.

A pleasant surprise occurred last week, when the RRS James Cook berthed at Southampton and Dan could commute every evening to see us. It was a little hard on him though, since he was getting home between 5:30-6:30pm in the evenings after suffering the massive congestion that occurs from 4:30 (especially on the Gosport roads since there are only two main roads that enter this tip of the country!) That and he had to get up at 6am to drive back, although luckily misses the main surge of vehicles at this time of day.

But with everything good there is always something bad and before I knew it, it’s time for goodbyes again! This was hard enough two weeks ago, but seems to be ten times worse this time!

The girls were a little confused again about Dad’s disappearance and I thought as they also missed his last goodbyes (since they sleep like bricks until 7:30am) I would surprise them with a visit to the beach so they could wave goodbye as the ship passes, coming out of Southampton waters.

This was unfortunately a disaster!

We picked Katie up at 3pm, made sure she was wrapped up like a woolly mammoth (like the rest of us) and started our mini migration south/west. It took 45 minutes to reach the point (as we stopped at the waterhole and last grazing field) only to discover a tall wire fence and sign saying “KEEP OUT - MOD PROPERTY”. Then the girls decided they needed the toilet – luckily there is a small café at the edge of the road, so we walked back to it to see another sign “Only customers may use the toilets” (I wonder if that counts for baby mammoths?) Thinking fast I escorted the girls in and promptly bought three cookies and a cup of tea. We sat down and, as if on cue, the girls asked for the toilet. When we returned to our table I noticed the kitchen staff tidying up and turning the lights out - I must admit I didn’t check what time this place closed, but the lady strutting around, cleaning the clean tables was making me feel uncomfortable and blatantly obvious they wanted us gone ASAP! So I sculled my tea, burnt my mouth and bundled the herd up again.

We walked back to the fence, bailed out of the pram and walked down the beach a bit. Various texts from Dan had confirmed they were on their way so there was nothing to do now but wait. It was 4:45 and the sky was getting darker, so I began to wonder if we would see anything at all. A few minutes later though, there she was - I grabbed the binoculars in one hand and my phone in the other as Dan had called us by this stage. Apparently he was wearing bright yellow on the foredeck, but the ship was hugging the west coast and we didn’t see him at all - let alone waving.

So we bid him farewell on the phone, I showed the girls the tiny white light on the horizon, told them that was Daddy on his ship, turned and headed home, cold and hungry.

Birthday Cakes

One thing I really enjoy about upcoming birthdays is making the cake, but recently I think that sparkle has gone (the picture evidence is conclusive enough!)

I put it down to not having the correct equipment (my own fault as I haven’t gone out and bought an icing gun and accessories), but I think it’s also down to the Superstores selling tasty, smart looking novelty cakes for under £10!

The girls are now at the age where they are beginning to challenge me (much like we challenged our mum years ago) to make all sorts of wild and wonderful cakes. This year Rebecca asked for a “My Little Pony” cake (her choice not mine!) and with a little improvising I managed to produce this…

I know it’s not great, but with a bit more time I could have turned it into something fantastic, since the inspiration was there, with the squirty cream hair and clever use of manufactured icing flowers - Rebecca was happy with it so that all that counts really. (Dan commented on what the pony’s name was…thinking fast I refused to comment as I would be forever mocked for knowing it…Its “Posey” if you really are interested).

Now it’s November and Katie’s birthday has sprung up on me. Two days before her birthday she asked me for a plane cake. That evening I set about making a sponge, cut it into shape, then with a bit (well a lot of) jam I glued it together and covered it with a tiny piece of rolled icing. By 11pm I was getting tired and losing my patience with the tail flap that wouldn’t stay on, so gave up and went to bed leaving it like this…

In the morning Katie commented “Wow an aeroplane!” which thrilled me as she could at least recognise it, but then lead to me to wonder that maybe when she said plane she actually meant plain? Sigh…oh well I will persist and complete this disaster.

By the next afternoon my patience was at an all time low and…yes you guessed it I went out and bought one, although I couldn’t find an aeroplane so went for her next favourite thing Bratz (personally I hate these creepy looking dolls – I may have mocked Barbie’s Movies, but at least she looks human…in her anorexic, blonde bimbo kind of way)

She was of course thrilled by the Bratz cake and the aeroplane…well that turned into a plane crash.

No Cat...Odd that?

I’ve been walking around a bit this week and noticed a sudden decline in the feline population?

There are always, at least, two cats on the cycle path we use to get into town. Even straying off the beaten path to search out cats in other areas revealed nothing? When reaching the High Street however the first thing that caught my attention was the massive sale on at “Shoefayre”! I didn’t go inside to confirm my suspicions though as the girls were with me and may have got upset by seeing our friendly neighbour hood cat paired up and on sale for £6! Or worse they may have wanted to buy them!!

After a bit of investigation on the internet when returning home - It would appear cats are not the only targets on this huge unwanted pet problem...

Hell’s Kitchen Bedroom Nightmare

Last night I had the most peculiar dream – I can’t remember the whole thing but it went something like this…

I was on a pier with a bunch people I haven’t seen in years, we were researching something or possibly assisting with a movie, it’s a little vague. The main recollection that stuck out was sitting on the ground leaning up against a wall, with a beer in hand, talking to Gordon Ramsey. It was picture and word perfect, as in all the f’s and blinding but in a humorous way. We were criticising the place around us and having a right good laugh, when he asked if I wanted to go back to his hotel. I accepted and next thing the dream jumped to a small hotel room with a massive bed. Gordon mentions he was really tired from kneading so much cookie dough. Then I notice the port-hole window in the door and got up to try and cover it up when a woman knocks at the door and sees me in my glory…and that’s where it ends I’m afraid, since the girls were poking and prodding me for breakfast and I woke up.

I can only put it down to the fact that I’ve made three batches of cookies recently and I must have spotted Gordon on the television before going to bed – That’s my logical reasoning, but I’m sure there will be some more deep and meaningful explanation to it, so would be interested to know if anyone is a dream expert.

Barbie Brainwash Day

It would appear Sky is struggling to find programs to show on television this Saturday, since they have one channel dedicated to all the Barbie movies made so far. Honestly its one Barbie movie after the next and since the girls have lost the remote control and I can’t be bothered getting up to change channel manually, I guess we are stuck with it! (And that isn’t an excuse so I can watch it I am more into My Little Pon…anyway moving on)

While typing this blog I could feel my brain clouding over in a beautiful pink mist, then clearing into a field of flowers and fluffy creatures. It’s hideously pretty and enough to put you off any meal. Everything is happily every after and magic is more common then non homosexual princes. My advice to you is stay well away and if you really want to watch a fairytale go and see Shrek!

Some of the movies that were on...

Pinned to the ocean floor by my tail tale.

The Jewellery box thief movie!

Attack of the Pink Wasp movie.

Me, My gay boyfriend and a horse for a sister movie

Halloworks

It’s a bit late, but Halloween and Fireworks night seem to be a weekly event up here anyway. I have lost count of the number of times each evening when nearly pooping my pants after a loud bang goes off somewhere nearby! The girls however think its great fun and will even go to bed with the curtains open in the hope of seeing some of the noise polluting sods (Now I sound like a grumpy old woman, but they were still awake and messing around at 10pm last night!)

Last week we caved in and got into the Halloween spirit by going to a Halloween themed night with Tracy and Steve. They said it was a costume party for the whole family, but they weren’t going to bother dressing up themselves. Thank goodness! I was up all night making the girls something and didn’t have the time or enthusiasm for making myself and Dan something too (Although I would never get Dan into a costume without a fight – he’s never been one for dressing up*)

The evening itself was really good, the bar had made a real effort in decorating the hall and the music wasn’t even that bad. Leaving was a blur and the girls talked none stop about it for two days afterwards which is always a good sign of a good night out.

We didn’t however go trick or treating on the 31st as the costumes (Bin bags, sticky tape and newspaper) were all but destroyed from the evening, but may make an effort to see any fireworks displays on the 5th…take the curtain net off and switch all the lights out! LOL

*Even on our wedding day, he wanted to wear black jeans and his steel toe caped caterpillar boots and didn’t want to wear a tie. I got the pants changed and the tie on, but can’t remember if he got away with the boots? I do remember them having HELP written across the sole though…Little shit!

Gone already!

RRS James Cook

It’s only been 12 days and Dan has gone again!

I should be toughened up to it by now (being married to a sailor for 7 years) but for some reason it’s seems to be getting harder each time. For the last two days I have been a mix of emotions;

Excitement - for Dan as this ship looks and sounds fantastic,
Emptiness - from the sudden disappearance of his presence,
Jealousy - as he is going on another adventure and I am left behind again,
Relief – that we can still communicate, since the ship has a permanent internet connection,
Worry – about how I will cope for three months without him and that his Visa will go through smoothly.
Disappointment – that we are going to miss another Christmas and New Year Celebration with Dan

I have begun to get good at covering the more depressing emotions up by humour, so hopefully you will see more cheerful blogs being posted for a few months – And I’ll try and be nicer to cats from now too!

Vacuum Cat'd

While randomly scanning the internet I happened across this picture, which made me laugh, as I’m imagined this is what a cat would look like if you had a camera on the nozzle of a vacuum cleaner!

And of course the end result

Cat Problem Solved!

When we left the Falklands we had to leave our cat (Chelsea) behind. Mainly because transporting her would be very expensive, she is 8 years old and not a good traveller, even on short trips, so a 6,000 mile trip would probably kill her! I contemplated other ways of bringing her with us, but all were scrapped since they contained skinning and stuffing her. So she is now residing at horseshoe bay farm and from the last post card (incredibly clever cat) she is having a fantastic retirement.

Not long after arriving in the UK we also visited the RSPCA shelter and signed up for adopting a new cat or even a dog (It takes 3 months to be accepted and we have to find a larger house first anyway). And then the RSPCA lady that visited the other night (see previous blog) my mind has always been occupied with animals and our old girl down south.

Coincidently I was sent this the other day from a friend with a comment on one of my ideas for solving this cat problem.

BBC News Headlines - Saturday, 13 October 2007, 11:14 GMT 12:14 UK

Homes needed for cats and kittens

An appeal has been launched to find homes for more than 100 unwanted and abandoned cats and kittens in Bradford

Basically there is one idea that could not only solve the excess cat problem but could be a good little money earner for the RSPCA – SLIPPERS!

It’s a great idea when you think about it – No starving, abandoned animals…novelty slippers and extremely warm feet! Even making them wouldn’t be a chore you leave the head on and could even turn the tail into a strap that goes around the ankle. Not that I’ve given it much thought...

“The white twins don’t talk to me much now” Pickles commented at a recent interview.

Spagnet

I am now convinced I'm a human magnet for special needs people! They seem to single me out of a crowd – I don’t know why I’m any different to the other 50-100 people standing in the area, but I’m obviously giving off something that attracts these people - like a bee to nectar or a fly to shit?

Take Wednesday for instance; I was minding my own business in the college library, knelt down in front of the Psychology for teachers books (It’s far more interesting than it sounds), when I caught a figure out of the corner of my eye heading my way. Disregarding this as there were a few people in the area I continued scanning the shelves. Seconds later an electronic wheelchair was parked up alongside me and a girl starring cross-eyed down at me. She mumbled something, which she had to repeat 4 times because I couldn’t understand her, but I finally narrowed it down to Art and easy books. I lead her to that section, showed her down the aisle and quickly high-tailed it into the depths of the library (I wasn’t going to hang around and find out if I had guided her to the wrong area!) After waiting a little while I managed to sneak back to my shelf, grab a few books that I hoped will be useful and depart the building and college before I’m cornered again!

Another encounter was in a Restaurant/Bar on the High Street with Dan and the girls. We were sitting down for a meal, when a lady and her son sat down at the table adjacent us. All was fine until she went to order the food and he started talking to us about beans. It was then we realised this adult male had the mental age of a 6 year old. The rest of the meal was really uncomfortable as the chap keep talking to us…now about tomato sauce and sausages – I’ve never eaten so fast and feel sorry for the girls having to bolt down their food too.

And at a different restaurant/bar in Gunwharf Quays one time - we were already sat at our table again, eating our meal when a strange looking guy came in a sat on the sofa behind us. He seemed fine for a while until he started talking…to himself. I kept my head down and didn’t make any sudden moves in case we made eye contact and he decided to start talking to us. We did actually get away with it as he finished his beer and left the room. We chatted about how he must be thinking we are an ignorant bunch of buggers, but then thought he was probably having such a good time with his imaginary friends he probably didn’t even notice us and three other families in the room with him/them?

One last incident was collecting Katie from school – There’s a special needs lady that lives close to the school. On our way home she was just heading in through her house gate when she suddenly stopped and starred right at me. I almost froze for a moment while thinking “Oh no, please no!” When thankfully the carer called for her to go inside - a huge sigh of relief flowed through me - This would be the fourth awkward encounter in less than two weeks!

So there now has to be enough evidence that they are conspiring against me. I must have an invisible "spagnet" tattooed across my forehead so I can attract awkward situations more easily…Joy!