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Tag Archives: Teaching

We don’t need no thought control

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So my 12 year old daughter in Year 8 has come home with a letter (finally) to inform me that they will now be choosing their subject options for GCSE study, this year. Thus giving them 3 years to complete their GCSEs rather than the standard two that has worked perfectly well for many years.

I don’t want to sound like someone who is afraid of change. I’m not going to lie – I am, a bit – but to me this sounds like they are dumbing down our kids. Are we actually raising generations of children who are too daft to do the requisite amount of work to gain a successful grade in two years?

Now, I work in primary education so I wouldn’t like to comment out loud for fear of reprisal … Shhh, they’re watching, and now they’ll know that we know that they know that we know…




“I’ll just die if I don’t get this recipe”

… however. What comes next?  A-Levels taking 4 years? A regular degree taking 6 years?  15 years to become a doctor?

Sadly, a part of me thinks I may be right?  We’re raising dopey, spoiled, clueless kids. But I also despair of the education system.  Stop fucking about with it!  At my Childerbeast’s high school they have to take Religious Studies as an exam subject – and no, it’s not a church school.  A foreign language is no longer compulsory, which I disagree with totally aswell.

Common Sense. That’s what they need.  Not another lesson on Rama and Sita or the origins of Islam.  Spelling and grammar – Yes.  For the love of fuck get where, wear, were; there, their, they’re and yours and you’re correct and know your ours from your ares. But fuck trig and triple bracketed sodding equations, let’s do a SAT’s in Y6 on common sense.  I’ve already thought of some questions.

  It’s pissing down with rain as you leave for school.  Do you:

a)  put on the waterproof coat your parents spent good money on.

b) put on a hoodie.

c) put on a thin summer jacket and leave it unfastened.


 You’re unhappy that you feel like you are always in trouble at school.  Do you:-

a) continue to be a massive annoying bellend.

b) listen to advice given by teachers and parents and sort yourself out.

c) throw a book across the room and call someone a fat lezzer cunt.


 You keep getting codes for forgetting your PE kit/calculator/planner etc.  Do you:-

a) Double check you have everything when your mother asks if you’re ready for school.

b) Carry on regardless, blaming everyone but yourself.

c) Borrow your mates then not return the item so then they get a code.


I got a shed load more like it. I think it should totally be a thing.

Meanwhile we’ll plough on doing what the powers that be tell us we need to do to give our children, and the future of our world, the best educational start in life. We’ll make them choose at 13, the options that will help pave their way in their academic future.  Except we’ll narrow those options right down so that actually, they’re not really choosing at all.

That way they can all grow up to be Youtubers (because that’s what they all say they want to be when they grown up).  Meanwhile we’re all just another brick in the wall

Ciao tutti MoFos Xx

Fuck dry January. All hail Ginuary

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Well dry January lasted until Wednesday the 3rd when I went back to work.  I held off at least until I got home but was two gins in by 9pm.


A short week indeed, but am already knackered and considering alternative career prospects.
I’m stuck though aren’t I?  I’ll end up like some kind of disillusioned, wizened, bitter old Yoda figure stamping library books in a corner and listening to KS1 reading about fucking Biff & Chip for the eleventy billionth time.. The children will remind me that I used to teach their parents and dad wants to know if I’m still a bitch.

I doubt by then I’ll have the energy…



chin chin for gin Xx

Let’s go round again…

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Well it’s almost time to begin a new academic year.

It doesn’t seem that long since last September and the last academic year. But what a year it’s been.  Going in all cylinders blazing last September, ready to take on the system. Lead my new, (albeit smaller) but fabulous little team.  Ready to jump in at a moments notice to impart knowledge and wisdom with a smile and pocket full of amazing lesson plans.

Yeah. That lasted til Spring and then it all went west side.



Me, from March to June in my kitchen


Until recently when I no longer felt like that, I hadn’t really realised how low and off-kilter I actually felt.  Let’s not go there again if we can possibly help it.

My philosophy at this juncture can probably best be summed up by this meme:-


Am I right?


There will always be plenty of people having a shittier day than you, which is crap (for them) but a silver lining on your own grey cloud. That’s as good as it’s probably going to get for most of us – and that’s okay.

So before I return to the coal face and my optimism and enthusiasm die a fiery death wane within weeks, I’d like to celebrate the great things that happened this year and the people who stopped me from totally losing my mind. The ones who sent me notes, hunted for spooks with me for fun; sent me memes, love tokens; not always helpful but somehow amusing texts; sent me jigsaws in the post. And thanks to my husband who, despite his usually unsympathetic nature and poor inference skills, managed to be kind, thoughtful and not get annoyed when I didn’t appear to have moved for hours.  Also my Childerbeast for not freaking out at their mother freaking out.

Naturally I have to summarise in pictorial form because , as my childerbeast told me recently, “Mum, you photograph everything”  Good job really. Then I can look back at images like these, on the days when everything seems pointless, and I’ll remember that it’s not.

In the words of my childerbeast…. “Blessed”.









So back to school tomorrow.  I am going in this year with no expectations. That way I can’t be disappointed or annoyed. I’ll go in. Do my thing. Hope for the best and then come home, sleep, then go back the next day and try again.


Bring it on Booms!  We can do this.


And to end a perfect summer holiday of sun, treating myself to a new vacuum cleaner (small pleasures) visits with friends, festivalling, glitter and music – my parents dropped by today for an impromptu visit.

Good times.


Life (today anyway) is good.  Not always. Not for everyone. But today, it’s alright for me & mine, & that’ll do.

Ciao MoFos



This blog is all over the place today. Much like myself.

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New job title of the week:  Bovine by-product redistribution agent


First there was this:-

Then my MiL spake (it’s a word) the prophetic words  “How long will it take before some other child decides to copycat?”

Barely a day later there was this:-

    Wales teacher death plot

and this:-

     Primary school poison plot


I won’t lie.  I’m pretty sure I’m on a list, and likely very high up, and not in the Do Not Harm column either.
Perhaps not so much this year, but to use a fave word of Gene Genie’s,
‘deffo’ the last few years.  I reckon it’d be like the final reveal in Murder on the Orient Express.  In fact I’d wager that I’m on at least 2 members of staff’s mental hit-list.  (I don’t think any of them are at that stage yet of actually having a real written list.)   However, it could happen.

Form an orderly queue people…

Worrying and shameful times indeed.


but keep your wits about you more than ever!

Meanwhile, a good SAT’s question for my lovely eldest offspring for next week’s exams, might go a little something like this:-

  If a bath is running at approximately 1000ml per 6 seconds and the plug goes in at 1830. You add a bathbomb at 1835 then disappear to listen to music on your iPad while your mother is ironing downstairs.  Who gets the blame first when your father yells upstairs that there is water dripping through the kitchen ceiling and all hell breaks loose at 1900?


No damage done really other than to pride and feelings but now it seems I will have to sit and observe the bath filling operation myself, as everybody in the house has the memory of a goldfish,  the attention span of a fruit fly & the short-temper of Gordon Ramsay.


Just for the record – if I were to organise a new system to improve communication, I’d make sure said system was well hidden.  Perhaps under a table, beneath a bunch of takeaway menus & a clothing catalogue for people who need elastic waisted jeans and kaftans.  It makes perfect sense.   Just saying.









Today was a good day

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(Star Wars die-hards don’t bombard me with fault-finding – I appreciate it was not Master Yoda who said this. I just liked this meme better than the one with Alec Guinness on it.)



Today I was corrected on my punctuation by one of my Catch-Up Literacy students who was, in fact, correct… I had left out an all important comma!
I was also treated to a lesson on persuasive literary devices by other members of my Catch-Up group. 

This disturbance in the force came barely a week after members of staff and level 6 ability students were beaten at the Countdown numbers game by another child in a much lower group.

Who knew there were SO MANY pics of this woman's rear view on google image when you serach for countdown numbers game>?

Who knew there were SO MANY pics of this woman’s rear view on google image when you search for ‘countdown numbers game’?


I feel as though I’m in a parallel universe where it seems that children DO actually listen and can in fact, learn and retain that knowledge.  I think I kinda like it.  Could it BE that we are doing something worthwhile?

Gene Genie, we should retire to that ‘escape  to the country’ now while the going’s good.  Quit while we’re ahead and all that. 

Then just before home time, I was treated to this;

“I thought vegetarians ate meat Miss”

… and the balance was restored anew….  BANG!  Back in the room!

post mostly comprising initials

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If there wasn’t enough reasons to avoid this series of books like the plague and avoid hurling oneself on the S&M, 3 for £10 at Morrison’s pseudoporn bandwagon.  I just read that JB may be getting involved in the film franchise.

Foxtrot Foxtrot Sierra!  Noooooooooooooooo!   He’s only about 17 years old!

In other news.  Last night I dreamt that I was back at work at The Farm* (that one is for my readers who have been there from Day 1) and that a massive apocalyptic thunder and lightning storm was raging around Leeds and blowing all through the office.  Bman says I was curled up in a ball under the covers – that may explain why.  Unless I was channelling one of the beetles I also dreamt about later on that I’d found in my pyabs!  (Just for the record, I only dreamt that – I don’t really have any wee beasties in my bush).

Analyse THAT futhermucker!


Got paid yesterday and most of it has been eaten by overdraft already.  Summer holidays are a killer for spending cash you don’t actually have! 

I have now given up hope of ever seeing any of the PPI  I have been promised since fecking February when I applied for a refund from RBS.  At this rate I’ll be RIP well before I even hear whether or not I am to expect any.  Meanwhile, the World and his dog keep telling me stories of retail therapeutic joy, spending their PPI refunds on domestic appliances, pampering days and must-have gadgets.

I shall take to my bed with my dressing gown over my clothes now and wallow in my own self-pity until it’s time for Strictly and Doctor Who. 😦

I shall leave you with this picture which amused me on FB and I stole because I’m all out of my own ideas this weekend.

aint that the truth

* AKA.   B.N.I Insurance Brokers