It is the end of the school year. Finally. I have been so exhausted and run down and my hay fever has been horrible. There is this tree in the churchyard that smells like a French whorehouse and will not stop blooming. Rain does not wash its gallons of pollen away. It still stinks no matter what the weather. I have been living with my inhaler in hand as I seem in perpetual asthma mode and am just now recovering from a nasty bout of bronchitis. But now school is out for 6 weeks and we can rest, relax, do some DIY and be creative. As for my American teacher peeps who are pissing and moaning that they have to go back to work in 3 weeks all I have to say "Shut up you bastards. You have been swanning about since end of May. You have nothing to complain about."
Yesterday was the last day. Year 6 always has a big assembly where they do parodies of popular telly programmes and adverts (where there are always at least some boys dressed in drag) and then they sing sappy songs about love or friendship and they get their autograph books and start to blub and everyone cheers them as they run down the aisle back to their classroom to gather their bits and bobs and start their new life as secondary school students. The kids write their own sketches and this was one of the funniest conversations I overheard. Child A is autistic and obsessed with toilet humour and Child B swears a great deal, terrorises his neighbourhood, likes to pretend to shoot people who make him cross and will probably grow up to be a criminal.
Background--these 2 boys were supposed to be writing a parody of Harry Hill's TV Burp where he takes the piss out of programmes that have aired that week and the way to solve a problem as to which is better is to shout FIGHT! and the 2 things fight it out in a pillow fight in your jimjams sort of way.
Child A: We have written it and it will be called Wilshere Dacre Fart
Teacher: That is not acceptable.
Child A: Ok, we can call it W.D. Fart
Teacher: the school name is not the problem here. You're not having the word fart in the title.
Child B: But...
Teacher: You asked me at the start what words you could use and I said no fart, bum, wee, poo or knickers. Nor could you use any sort of real violence or fake guns or disemboweling.
Child B: Aw *beep*
It was eventually called Wishere Dacre Belch and I'll be honest here, the sketch was completely unintelligible because they could not stop laughing but at least there was not farting or mindless violence.
The nicest thing that happened was that child A's mum gave me a bag of some teff flour as a gift!!! How cool is that--specialty gluten free flour! They are gluten free as well so we have been exchanging recipes. It was the most thoughtful gift I have ever received as she clearly knows me well. I get lots of milk chocolate from children which I send a gracious thank you note for and then put in the staff room for others to eat. Even when I did eat dairy I preferred dark chocolate.
As for Ruth--my new blue ukulele (it has assonance--all those ooo sounds) we are getting along famously. I can play 4 chords and have nearly mastered Camptown Races (doodah, doodah) I am already getting calluses on my fret hand-- Woohoo!
This summer I plan to read, write and make some stop motion animated films with my Digital Blue Movie Creator (this cool camera that lets you make films and edit and add sound effects) as well as learn to play Ruth a bit better.