Morning Lovelies,

What a wet Saturday it is!

Yesterday was health check day. It wasn’t planned that way, but it so happened my dermatologist appointment for my recently diagnosed eczema and the Dr’s appointment for my affectionately named ‘fatty pads’ coincided on the same day. The eczema clinic was positive. My back was unrecognisable to the photo in her file, she gave me prescriptions for every lotion and potion I might need to keep it at bay and a 6 month open discharge, which means if it returns within that time I can just phone up and see her. Sadly, the appointment ran over my lunchtime, so my Friday exercise went out the window and replying to colleagues’ question “How did you get on?” with “good, I’ve got an open discharge” put several of them off their lunch!

After school I visited the Dr, who felt, then pressed my ankle ‘fatty pads’ and said it wasn’t ‘odema’. She broke the news that fat ankles are part genetics andwine part exercise and diet. (I blooming knew it!) I mentioned the fact that I had been walking three times  a week since September and yet in the last two months they had become bigger and my Reflexologist had even commented on the increase. How does this make any sense? The Dr said “weren’t you put on oral steroids?” “yes, indeedy.” The reason for increased ‘fatty pads’ suddenly became clear and I went to the pub with colleagues to celebrate the fact it wasn’t anything serious, whilst subtly ignoring the need for ‘weight loss’ and addressing my diet.

It’s Sunday. Yesterday I tackled the mess that is our loft. I needed a rest half way through as I was beginning to look like a panto dwarf after walking on my knees and being bent double for so long. My Winter clothes finally made it into my wardrobe and my summer clothes finally made it into the roof. Unfortunately, my back decided I hadn’t listened to the physio’s instructions to not ‘push’ it too much when all seemed fine. I did push it and my back repaid me by going into spasm, leaving me immobile for the evening and needing to take painkillers.

It’s Monday. We woke to the sad news that David Bowie, my husband’s idol has died. 69 is no age these days.

My back was still not great yesterday, so my Sunday de-cluttering and organisation had to go at a more gentle pace. Son had a day off work, so managed to throw four black sacks of men’s clothing I found in the roof, down the ladder for me. I persuaded husband to look through them and pile of clothesagree that if he ever lost huge amounts of weight he would not go up into the roof to find slimmer clothes to wear! He checked and sorted, making a huge mound of men’s clothes on the bedroom floor. He spotted a pair of Easy Fit jeans with a 40in waist, said the label and size out loud and continued “well they are not.” “Sorry?” I replied. “They are not an easy fit!” I think we are to understand that ‘easy fit’ doesn’t easily fit ALL! The pile of clothes was huge and as I went to put them back in sacks, my husband said “we will be getting condolence cards in the post when they see this lot. They will think someone has died!” Lesson to learn…have a gradual clear out not an on mass one covering several years worth of clothing!

Son was supposed to be coming for a late Sunday lunch from Guildford. Phone call number one was about washing, phone call number two was “I’m trying to sort a lift home” and phone call number three was two hours later, “can you come and collect me?” Sunday lunch was cooking, so I did the 45 minute round trip to pick him up, with a half, heavy heart, ( I could have done without the drive with my dodgy back, although the unheavy heart did want to see him!) and with not much petrol in my car.

It’s Tuesday. Yesterday I got in my car and found absolutely 0 miles on the petrol gauge…Not sure how I didn’t spot that last night. I kept everything crossed as I drove to the petrol station wondering if I might grind to a halt at any moment.

This week at school we are continuing our Space topic with the book ‘Whatever Next’ by Jill Murphy, where little bear makes a rocket out of a box and goes up to the moonians helmet just before bath time. If only travelling was that easy and inexpensive. The children wrote lists of what they would take to the moon and made some stained glass tissue paper rockets.

In the evening I got home to find husband looking like he was going to the moon with his oversized protective helmet and goggles for his yet to be used electrical moped. Either that or he was about to raid the local bank! Looking at him I did indeed wonder ..Whatever next?

It’s Wednesday. What is it about the words ‘welly wanging’ that sounds so wrong? Yesterday the children enjoyed ‘wanging ‘ their wellies outside in the garden area and I tried hard not to say the words ‘welly wanging’ too often as it seems to be quite tricky… for me anyway!

In the evening it was an Anything Goes rehearsal and indeed anything went! I decided to use a scarf as a stand in dog, but when I can’t remember to pick up the scarf which is light, obedient and makes no noise, what on earth am I going to be like with a dog that is unpredictable, heavy, mobile, yaps and might need to cock its leg at an inopportune moment? I can see a potential comic or catastrophic moment arising from me performing with a dog and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the dog in question is extremely well trained, although I’m no Barbara Woodhouse so will it make a difference? The best moment of the night was when we were rehearsing a number and the director went over the words we needed to sing for a particular song. We re-started a scene, when suddenly a friend sang the words he had just gone over with such gusto, but sadly on her own and at the wrong time…it made my night! There is lots to love about the Am Dram life.

It’s Thursday. The world is a little shaky and I am having to go slow thanks to Labrynthitis.

rocketsYesterday the stained glass tissue paper rockets we made earlier in the week were put up on the windows for the light to shine through. Unfortunately, the rocket shape on some had been distorted by the cutting skills of 4-5 year olds and have caused adults to raise their eyebrows and make comments as they pass by! Oh Please, are their cutting skills that bad?

After emptying the dishwasher early this morning I am wondering who in my household thought it necessary to give a used teabag and avocado skin an intensive wash? Both looked shrivelled, ageing but very clean… like me after a long bath!

Thankfully today is the last day of the week with children, as tomorrow is an Inset day.

It’s Friday. Yesterday Oreo Owl biscuits were made at school and I attempted to work on the formation of the letter ‘g’ with the children. Working on ‘cursive handwriting’ with 4 year olds, means their letter formation looks nothing like what they are copying and the letter ‘g’ is an impossibility! Posing the question to children “would you go to the moon in a cardboard box?” provided an interesting discussion. There were those who didn’t want to go because they didn’t want to leave their mums and dads and wanted to come to school. The response from one was that school was in the day and you went to the moon at night, so in fact you could do both! There were those who felt a cardboard box wasn’t real, had no real fire and going up the chimney, as in the story, it would get burnt. (very observant) There were those who wanted to get closer to the stars so did want to go, but a telescope and book about planets and stars was offered to apparently make this trip unnecessary! When asked “Why do you think the bear went to the moon?” the reply was “because he needed to get dirty before his bath”…Don’t you just love children’s thinking?

Returned home to find amazingly a wash had been put on. I was a bit surprised until I heard the reason why. Husband had taken his drone for a flying session and it landed prematurely in a ford. This required husband to wade in, rescue it and  a need for very soggy trousers to be washed immediately. Drone, clothes and husband now drying out. He presumably needed to get dirty before his shower and I’m off to roll in the mud before my bath!

Today we have a Philosophy for Children course and  I am wondering ‘Is it right for teachers to go to school when there are no children?’ If only the answer was “NOOO”

Have a good weekend,

Honestly Fiona xxx