Slippers

I recently moved house. The flat that was a temporary residence and was located wonderfully on the shore. It was quite idyllic to wake up to the sound of the sea lapping on the rocks, or more recently crashing over the garden wall. It was a pretty squalid place really, in need of more than a lick of paint and a damn good clean, but either of those might have made it better. The roof leaked, the plumbing kept failing and the heating was non existent, so that in the winter, the internal temperature could be as low as 7°. The north wind laughed at the windows and came roaring in whenever it felt like it, so come january, enough was enough. Whatever I was waiting for wasn't ever going to happen so it became time to move on. (geographically anyway. The alternative is easier when you have somewhere to move on to.)

So now it's a bungalow along with the rest of the coffin dodging fraternity - the penultimate box. It's comfortable enough and has a greenhouse and garden. It's also on a bus route so I don't need to walk back from the pub. It's so bloody quiet here though - been here a month and not seen, let alone met, a neighbour.

I never imagined living this long I guess so it is not a situation that I'd ever envisaged. I guess this ends the dreams that I once had of doing wild things and sharing adventures. Soon I'll be wearing a cardigan and slippers. Then again, if I get to that state I hope someone will shoot me.

OFSTED

Monday again and once more a beautiful day.
I should be getting stuck into the last three assignments that are due in three weeks from today, but I really can't find it within myself to do that. I had a letter from my tutor today, asking that the group should be in attendance early this evening as there is an OFSTED inspection taking place. Bloody cheek! Last time I went in and asked for advice she wandered off to talk to someone else without giving me any real help at all.
OFSTED, are a team of men/women in grey suits with no humour. They are sent in to educational institutions to raise stress levels and destroy people's lives on the pretense of raising educational standards. On this occasion, staff are to be graded by the men in grey but will not be told their grades. (Doesn't this infringe some aspect of the data protection act?)
I remember being on the receiving end of an OFSTED inspection some years ago. Schools used to be given several months notice of these infestations and of course this meant that paranoia had a long time to incubate. For all of those months, any real education went out of the window and everything focussed on the forthcoming inspection. On the week of the inspection, the teacher busters would arrive as a team of twelve or so, and take over the school, appearing everywhere and anywhere, prodding and poking, seeking out every weakness and wherever they could, stealing good ideas. Grades were awarded, reports written and as a result, many good teachers were broken.
Have educational standards improved since OFSTED was inaugurated? I don't think so. The school where I worked for all those years has had variable OFSTED reports but from many peoples point of view it is now at an all time low in terms of both morale and achievement. Teachers are so tightly constrained by innapropriate curricula and the fear of failing to meet criteria that creativity in the classroom is becoming an endangered phenomenon.
By the way - my tutor was awarded a grade 1 at the last inspection - she knows how to play the inspection game, which is, by and large, about filling in forms and ticking boxes.
Should this sound like a rant from one who failed an inspection - I didn't. It's just a rant from someone who thinks that the whole thing is a waste of time and money.

Halleluja

I always maintain that if one has nothing to say, then one should not say it. However this is rather different, as it is unlikely that anyone else would read what i have to say. I can treat this a some sort of cathartic device and quite happily ramble to myself.
I have a student who comes to me for lessons once a week. She is a lovely, polite, and enthusiastic learner who is getting a bad deal at her high school. I know a lot of kids say that but I know that she is telling the truth as I am well aware of the dire state of that particular school. Anyway, she is a musician and has a broad taste, so I gave her a disc of some of my favourite songs the other day. It's always nice to share some common ground with students. Today I received an email with a song attached. She liked Tim Buckley's recording of the Leonard Cohen song Allelujah so much that she decided to try it herself. It nearly took my breath away - her voice is so mature and her interpretation quite amazing. Not only that, she accompanied herself on the guitar, an instrument that she has only just started to learn. I am writing this because it was a wonderful start to the day, to have a favourite song made more so by the effort and talent of one so young. I take my hat off to the youth of today - there are so many wonderful people in the making.

saturday

Well that was a pleasant lunchtime. A walk into the town and a pint in the Fountain watching united come from being 2-0 down to a 4-2 win. To make things even more pleasurable, Chelse could only manage a draw. It is beautifully warm again, more like August than late April and I note that the greenhouse temperature was up to 52°c this morning. That can't be great for the plants.
I see that Adobe have released CS3. Must consider the upgrade while I am still a student, the discount is worthwhile.
A nothing sort of day apart from that. I haven't really got into writing again and must seek a muse. My other one is missing.