Friday 1 November 2013

No photos, and very little blog

It is true, I am being overtaken by life. Events need to go unrecorded otherwise I might remember them.

Instead, here's education, which is, ultimately, the point of diary-blogging. So I can imperiously refer the LA if/when they ask, What I am doing with this home-school malarky?

Apart from stubbornly calling it all home education, this is what my offspring are doing:

Shark: flipping a string of blue beads about the kitchen for two hours, possibly in the vague hope this might be interpreted as Physics. Meanwhile, I go on and on and on and on about doing some proper physics which surely must mean, at some point, writing words down? Voice in head says I should be overcome by remorse at this unreasonable request on my daughter. Life should be about ... oh I don't know, not conforming to an ideological construct in which we seek external validation by examination, or summat. Other voice says, Just get the sodding assignment done Shark, before I explode. Otherwise she is sub-aqua once a week. And that is what I can do, once a week; I don't tell her about the weekend dives because frankly, to get her to a quarry in Northamptonshire at 8am on a Saturday morning would hospitalise me.

Squirrel: inscrutable, as always. I hope there is a career in flattening out tree bark, salting apple peel, or stitching dried orange rind. Maybe there is a living to be had in rolling berries in melted candle wax. But as she is meeting the Chemistry deadlines, I am leaving her to it. Otherwise, horse-riding once a month.

Tiger: becoming a surprising scholar. This is the dd I had down for a career in psychotherapy or staffing a helpline for social phobics, but she is doing a remarkable turn as a Latin scholar. She always, without fail, produces the Latin homework on time, with extra. Perhaps she is terrified of our Latin teacher, Lingua Latina with the Menacing Stare. I know I am. Similarly, horse. Once a month.

There. Oh yes, and they went swimming today with an out-of-town chum.

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