Wednesday 2nd October - Sulking

The Man of the House was away for a few days on business. The household technology seemed to have started sulking at his absence.

Problem 1
About two hours after the very early morning taxi took him away, the washing machine beeped sadly and displayed the code which means the filter right at the back at the furthest reach of someone with very, very, long arms was now blocked. I managed to get the sodden soapy washing out, and empty the water out of the machine without drenching the kitchen, but that was as much as I could manage. Luckily I had already dealt with the mountain of washing over-filling the laundry basket, so I didn't have to do any washing for a while.

Problem 2

The television displayed a message to the effect that it wanted re-tuning. "Now, or later?" As advised by The Man of the House, I chose "now". After some time, the message "Cannot find any programs; this television is now de-tuned" came up.

Too true; the on-screen guide came up as a complete blank.

Problem 3
An email from work demanded that I send in a photo of myself for a new ID card NOW and TODAY. To be fair, we had been asked a month ago to provide this; and after a couple of failed attempts at "selfies", The Man of the House had taken quite a nice one. "Email it to me" I asked "because then I will be sure to find it. "No need, it is in Pictures=>your folder=>Photo-ID so you will find it easily".

No it wasn't, and I couldn't find it.

Problem 4
I was updating the lesson plans for all my schools on my laptop, and discovered the folder for one of my schools had completely disappeared. Gone. Not there at all. Took several deep breaths and instructed myself not to panic.


This looked like rebellion from various items of technology, all resenting The Man's trip away.

However, I have managed to retune the television (loud Hurrahs). And along the way I discovered the "settings" menu for the television.

And I have found out how to search an entire computer (you start by googling "how do I find lost folders on my computer". That way you find out that you need to type what you are looking for in a little box at the bottom of the "start" menu.

The photograph I needed seemed to be in a folder inside "pictures" called "Dover". Of course.
And the school lesson plans had taken up residence in another folder called AAAAdmin2012. Naturally.

Just the washing machine to go, then.

Hopefully things will be returning to normal soon!

Monday 13th May - Wednesday 15th May - Relentless Optimism?

On Monday I managed to carve out an hour in the morning and caught up with a friend that I used to spend a lot of time with when our children were primary school age.

We were talking about this and that, and she commented on my "relentless optimism".

That set me thinking. Is this a Good Thing? All these Silver Linings? Looking on the Bright Side? Glass always half full? Am I just maddeningly and infuriatingly cheerful All the Time?

To be honest, I don't know how I would get through life at all if I didn't think like this. It is a deliberate act of will, this "staying cheerful" business. And pretty hard work too.

There have been times of tears. I can remember them from when I was about 8 years old, and 10 years old, and the first nights at boarding school, and Sunday evenings when I worked in a job I hated, and the consequences of working too long and too late for too many weeks in a job that terrified me, and when the children were small, and when they were teenagers, and when I was fearful for my own future, and since our family life became over-shadowed by my mother's stroke. Don't get me wrong - I'm not faking it. I'm not "in denial". I'm not plastering over any cracks.

One of the most powerful tools that I use to stay positive is to look at the natural world and marvel. How many shades of green are there in the trees around me! Look at the flowers, properly. The shades, the veins, the colours, the shapes, the variety. How did that all happen?

 

 

How does an acorn hold a whole tree? How do the two cells that form the very first moments of a baby sort themselves into hair and brain and toenails all in the right place? 

I discovered that if I sit and look, really, really, really look, at a leaf, or a pebble, or a tree, for about five or ten minutes, almost committing it to memory, I can restore my soul, refill my glass, regain my strength, and carry on.

Wednesday 6th June - Rhythm! Pulse! Count! Use your brains!

I'll be blaring about this in www.themusicjungle.co.uk in due course. It's just that I have spent a tough hour learning some piano accompaniments and I need to stop for a rant.

It's exam season. The music exams are scheduled for middle of June through to the first week of July, which means any time soon, and I have been asked to accompany various instrumental candidates.

I will have one, maybe two run-throughs with the various candidates before their exam (apart from one enterprising junior school which pays for their candidates to have up to four weekly rehearsals where we practise playing together, and also go through the aural test requirements. They don't know how lucky they are to have all this extra time!)

In the past I have accompanied students at fairly early grades who play pieces entirely devoid of any attempt to use any other note value than crotchets; like singing

TwinkleTwinklelittlestarhowIwonderwhatyouarelikeadiamondintheskyupabovetheworldsohighTwinkletwinkleslittlestarhowIwonderwhatyouare

all in one go, leaving out the "gaps after "star", "are", "sky" and "high". It sounds silly enough with good old Twinkle - it's a total disaster if you are playing something by Gershwin. I shall never forget the stunned look on the examiner's face a couple of years ago at the end of of candidate's rendition of "I got rhythm" all in crotchets;

I-got-rhy-thm-I-got-mu-sic-I-got-my-man-Who-could-ask-for-an-y-thing-more

So now, two weeks before the exams, I am faced with a young person who has ducked the issues of pulse, note value, syncopation, and triplets. I'm sure the instrumental teacher has gone over this in detail, over and over again. I know the student is clever enough, talented enough, experienced enough, to be able to deal with the complex rhythms. It's just that they haven't knuckled down to the detailed, hard, brain-aching work of getting to grips with the music. Which, at their grade, they should have.

I am frankly terrified - my own piano part has enough going on to keep me busy - and I have no chance, at the moment, of staying together with the student unless they get their act together and learn the rhythm. In two weeks. The big challenge is to get the student to a place where they can face up to the mountain they have to climb, provide them with a way of climbing it, and all without panicking them into a state of total funk.

(Time for some primal screaming and a cup of tea before I go back to the piano)

Saturday 1st June - Rescue - combined skills save the day

The strange and rather spooky rustling noise in the staff room turned out to be a bird in the chimney. The combined expertise and skills of the staff were required to effect a rescue.
Between us we located the step ladder, found a screwdriver to unscrew the ventilator grille, fetched a pond-dipping net from the infant resources cupboard and set to work.

The plan went like clockwork. Once the grille was removed, the bird shot into the net like a small feathery missile. We covered the open end of the net with a handy cake-tin lid, and carefully took it outside in order to release it into a suitable shrubby bush.

The bird had other plans. As soon as the lid was removed it flew off, up, up and away.

picture from wikipedia

Back to work everyone. Nothing to see here. All finished.