The Year In Review

It's New Year's Eve, so in true Bridget Jones style, I thought I'd do a bit of a summary of my 2007. Here goes: Number of kilos lost: not enough Number of kilos gained: too many to mention, especially since Christmas! Number of blog posts: 126 (pretty impressive, eh?) Number of countries visited: oooh, now I have to think for a second - 19? Australia, Singapore, Iceland, France, Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Albania, Montenegro, Macedonia, Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Syria, Jordan, Israel, Germany, Belgium.... not bad for 1 year, eh? Number of new nieces: 1 Number of houses lived in: 1 (but now currently homeless) Number of gyms joined and then quit: 1 Number of boyfriends: Alas, none! Nah, it's too difficult to do a Bridget Jones on this one. Can't think of how to make it witty enough, sorry. Apologies for my poor efforts, ok? I guess though all that is left to say is that 2007 was a pretty good year, rock on 2008! How was your 2007?

Merry Christmas

Ok I know I'm posting this a few days after Christmas but hey, I was very busy that day (and subsequent days) and also if I don't do this now it will look dumb as it will appear on blogger dated as Jan 2008...

Christmas Day was very good. I have to say I haven't had as good a Christmas as this one in a very long time. It didn't start off that way though - don't get me wrong, it was lovely to open presents with Mum and Dad and have it be "just us" on Christmas morning, but when I got to the meeting, and we were only just on time, so I didn't see many of my friends before the service, and then got to the pew, and Marcella blanked me, and then squealed at me when I tried to say hello (all during the first song) - well that was somewhat depressing! Also, looking around the hall and seeing the new babies, and all the changes, well, that made me feel very old and also, if I be really honest, somewhat left out. I tried to focus on the positives, Nanny and Grandpa were there, Grandma and Grandpa too - and Beck and Dem, Mum and Dad - but still I couldn't shake my depressed mood.

So I tried to sing the first song, but hey, it wasn't even a carol, and I didn't really know it, and the music was really loud, and Marcella was bawling, and tears were welling up... but then, a miracle! Suddenly I heard (very loudly, I might add) a voice yelling "Auntie Kylie!", and I looked down the pew, and there was Harry, running towards me, arms outstretched! He enveloped me in one of his neck-crunching bear hugs (no mean feat for a 7 year old, I tell you), and instantly I felt so much better, felt loved, felt like I belonged again, felt like I WAS HOME. Mel and Kev had arrived with their clan - all a surprise, I didn't know they were coming to North Brisbane for the service! I was able then to get into the spirit of Christmas and I would have to say, that one moment set me up for the rest of the day.

Mum tried something a bit different this year, instead of the usual hot Christmas dinner, with turkey, chicken, ham, all the trimmings, plus Grandpa's mushy peas, this time we had a cold dinner. This consisted of still turkey, chicken and ham, but with avocado and something salad by Beck, Mel's fried rice and potato bake, pasta salad, potato salad, a couple of kilos of the juicest, plumpest, largest tiger prawns you could ever hope for, plus a swag of crabs (sandies and muddies) that Lach and Dad had caught over the previous week or two, kept alive in the live bait box - somewhat like the fatted calf - oh boy were they yum. With Mum's famous Christmas pudding for dessert - yum-o!

Then there were the presents - we took our time opening them, only one person at a time (took forever but at least you got to see what everyone got and see their reactions too - no pressure mind!) - Lach was being santa until he got a Ben 10 watch from me, then he kind of got distracted and forgot that he was supposed to hand out the presents! So I had to take over the honours...

The boys then spent the afternoon in between playing their playstation and swimming in the pool (despite it being a bit windy and unusually on the chilly side - there's a cyclone warning up north or something that's causing the big wind and cooler temperatures - its supposed to be 27 degrees but with the wind feels more like 21) and we sat around chatting for a bit before Beck, Dem and Marcella had to head off to Dem's fam's Christmas celebrations.

Grandma and Grandpa, and Uncle David, Aunty Christine and Simeon turned up for "Christmas 2" - the evening meal - which basically consisted of leftovers but this time with Tiramisu cheesecake and a Fruit cheesecake - oh boy, my hips didn't know what hit them! Going to seriously need to do some sort of exercise over the next few days (yeah, like that's going to happen with dodgy ribs!).

Anyway, what a truly lovely day. I hope you had just as good a Christmas too.
Merry Christmas! Roll on the New Year...

Mel, Bethany, Beck, Me after church

Good To Be Home

My sister Beck commented the other day that I hadn't updated my blog since something like 15th December. I guess because I am at home at the moment, and because its mostly Aussie family and friends who read my blog (if anyone actually reads it at all!) I kind of figured that they all know what I've been doing, as I've been with them - but on the off-chance any of my overseas friends are interested, here is a quick blog update...

Well Mal and I arrived safely back in the lovely Bris Vegas after our lengthy and fortunately relatively pain-free (well, except for my ribs, that is!) flight home. We'd overnighted in Singapore, which gave me a chance to meet up with Jun (fast becoming our annual tradition now) and also this time Wei Na, who I hadn't seen for some 3 or 4 years, which was lovely. We went out in a part of Singapore called Clarke Quay, where a new shopping complex opened up this year, and which also has become one of the most popular parts of the city for restaurants and night-life. It was really good to see them again and I had a great time catching up. Top stuff, eh Jun!

When we arrived in Brisbane it seemed like the whole of Australia (with a couple of Germans and Dutch chucked in) arrived too - Mal and my bags were one of the last to be let off the plane and then we had to join the horrendously long 'goods to declare' queue. I had brought some shortbread, chocolates, lollies, tea and stuff as gifts - plus my usual Wensleydale cheese for Mum - but this time the customs dudes have been taking lessons in how to be mini-Hitlers (probably from their Pommy counterparts) - and the blighter that I got confiscated my cheese. His argument was that there had been foot and mouth disease this year in the UK (like, when hasn't there been? - and also, this time it was in Surrey, so learn your geography dude, the Yorkshire Dales are in the North, and Surrey is in the South, near London). I hope he enjoyed my cheese for Christmas with a piece of fruit cake or something. The blighter!

The nephews and nieces were unfortunately absent from the welcoming party at the airport, which this time just consisted of Mum and Dad, but it was lovely to see them anyway and we then made our way back home via Nanny and Pop's, and Grandma and Grandpa's - so I didn't feel like I'd missed out too much. The reunion with the rest of the fam would take place the next day. Too tired now for anything, I crashed and went off to sleep. Not for long though, awake again at 4.30am, which is strange for me, as I don't normally suffer from jetlag when coming TO Australia, its usually only when I go back to England that I really suffer. So I lay there for ages and then finally got up around 5.30, made myself a cuppa and sat out on the back porch looking out over the canal, listening to the birds singing, enjoying the warm sun on my face... ah, this is the life!

Beck had arranged for everyone to come over for breakfast at Mum's (but Dad had forgotten he'd organised a dental appointment for me at the same time, which I subsequently missed and had to reschedule!). Demo cooked up some lovely French toast, bacon, eggs and so on, on Mum's bbq, and we had that out by the pool. I got the chance to meet my cute new niece Bethany, now just shy of 2 months old. Marcella, my other niece, is now a year old and boy is she a little honey! But she's very shy and basically took one look at me and bawled. Nice to know I have that effect on her. I can see there's a lot of work to be done before she'll be accepting of me.

Lachie and Harry though, well, they just bowled me over with hugs and kisses! And oh boy, have they grown a lot this year, they're real little boys now (well not so little I guess at 9 and 7) - Lach was down on the pontoon showing me how to check the crab pots (and he caught a couple too, a nice sandy and a good muddy which we later ate Christmas day). And they want to take me out in the dinghy to go to the shop for icecream... how cool is that?

Anyway, it was a lovely breakfast, good to see everyone again, and I can't wait to spend some quality time with all the fam over the next few weeks.... so good to be home...

I Get By With A Little Help From My Friends

These past few weeks have been some of the toughest I've ever been through in my life, I reckon. And the only way I've made it through to the other side has only been through the support of my friends and family. So it's highly appropriate I think that I give some big thank you's... To Erik: Thank you for everything you did to make sure that Bowles went smoothly. Thanks for all your support with the kids, your technical wizardry with the video / sound (especially the fancy concert intro with the Jenneh video - oh and thanks for making me look like an idiot with my 'Oscar-winning' (not!) dramatic acting performance to accompany it), thanks for setting cover for me at school, for making sure the music department didn't fall apart... Thanks pretty much for everything (especially for putting up with me being a bit of a git too... sorry about that...) To Mat: Thanks for making sure the Yr 10 Abolition of Slavery project was a success. Seriously, if it wasn't for your input, the thing probably would've been a fiasco. Thanks also for making sure Concert Band didn't fall apart, the camp was a success - thanks for your support and encouragement too. And for everything you do! To Agnieszka: Thanks for helping me to pack my boxes! Would've been in a big pickle otherwise... To Paul: Thanks for (to put an Americanism on it) 'stepping up' and teaching all my classes whilst I've been off - that's been a big deal for a student teacher - thanks for being a good mate - and thanks also for helping me move today! To Mal and Ken: Thanks so much for your help with the move today, seriously wouldn't have been able to do it without you (literally - Ken we really needed your muscle power! - and great Luton van driving skills...). Oh and thanks for being willing to let me stay with you this week when it looked like I needed it! To Jane: Thanks for helping with the move and also for your support. Oh and thanks for the Starbucks too! To Mrs Mingay: Thanks for helping me sort out somewhere to keep my stuff til I find somewhere to live, thanks for all your support and kind words... To Olive: Thanks for letting me keep my stuff in your garage! Hopefullly I got everyone in there, but if not, thanks anyway for all your help! The good news is that the people who are moving in here after us have decided to take my bed (seriously that thing was sooo heavy, I was absolutely dreading having to move it) - which means that we didn't need to move it today! Yay! And that now means that I can stay here for another week (now that I have something to sleep on) - so I haven't got to schlep to school from Chessington on some crusty, overcrowded British Rail train... (but thanks again Mal and Ken for the kind offer of a place to stay anyway)... Now if only this stupid, persistent cold would go.... and my ribs would heal....

School Music Camp

Well last weekend saw me, 9 other teachers and 40 odd kids off to Music Camp at an outdoor education centre near Tunbridge Wells, Kent.  The centre has to remain unnamed because one of the students googled it and came up with this blog...

First of all I would like to say that it was a real success, the kids totally enjoyed themselves and made some good progress musically. The staff were top quality, and I absolutely could not have done without them - particularly as I myself was still not well.

In fact, two days before the camp was due to start, I was out carolling with Sutton Salvos in Wimbledon for the turning on of the lights for St Raphael's Hospice. It was pretty cold, and there were only 4 of us there, battling the elements - and I was the only tuba. You try playing tuba with a cold! I could only manage a breath span of 2 or 3 notes - made for real legato playing, I'll tell you - NOT! Anyway, as we get to the end of the last carol, I'm still hacking up a lung, and I start to feel a bit of a stitch developing in my side.

The next morning (the day before the camp) the stitch was absolutely UNBEARABLE! Complete and utter agony. I made it into school but realised pretty quick that I just could not stay - and in fact needed to go to Accident and Emergency at King's College Hospital. So the school called a cab for me and off I went - only to discover that I have sprained my intercostal muscles from coughing. Sprained ribs! Seriously... you wouldn't read about it...

So the doctor signs me off for the next few days - no camp for me. But I'm the lead teacher on the camp - not very likely that I'll be able to take the time off....

Thursday (the day of the camp) came, and I dutifully phone into school to explain my situation, and both the deputy head and my line manager put the hard word on me! No, you need to go to the camp.... I tried to explain that I would go down on Friday (thinking maybe I would go Friday afternoon / evening) but they reckoned that I wouldn't be able to drive down (I would be in too much pain), that I wouldn't be able to manage my luggage on the train (yeah right) and that if I go down today with the kids I could just go straight to bed. Yeah, as if. Like I'm going to get quality sleep in a room off a corridor full of excited kids on their first night of camp! But they kept it up, put the hard word on - pressure pressure pressure - seriously, what planet are these people from? So of course I felt obligated to go and went.

What a stupid move that was. I tried to go straight to bed but the kids made such a racket, who could sleep? And also, the weather was sooo cold - so everytime I went out into that good, clean, cold, country air, I would have a coughing fit of the highest proportions - just what sprained ribs need!

For the next few days I tried to take every opportunity I could do get some rest, but I was having to conduct the concert band, and help supervise kids, yada yada - and all the while, really they didn't need me there anyway. There were enough music teachers there that they would've covered the band if I'd asked, and to be fair, the staff were really supportive and tried to make sure I really didn't have to do too much anyway. I would love to say I had a great time but to be honest, I was in excruciating pain pretty much the whole time - and I'm afraid I took it out on my poor colleague Erik, who had done such an amazing job organising the whole thing. He really was amazing, and I am deeply indebted to him for the success of the camp.

Anyway, I survived, the camp was enjoyed by the kids, the concert was ok... but I've spent the last 3 days paying for it! I went into school on Monday in excruciating pain and so many people came up and asked me what on earth I was doing at school! Finally the Deputy Head saw me and told me to go home and stay there until I get better (should've let me do that last weekend, eh?) so I went home and went promptly to the doctor. This time I begged him to give me antibiotics, or something other than ibuprofen (like ibuprofen actually works! As if...) and finally he gave me Amoxicillin - although as he was writing out the script he told me actually not to take it! (Why write the script then?). This is because he says that my infection is viral, not bacterial. Anyway, I've now been off school for 3 days, unable to do anything other than lie still in bed... (although I still had to go to school tonight for a concert - it never ends here at CEBS). I still don't really feel like I'm getting better and my ribs are seriously killing me! And I have to move out this weekend - when (and how?) am I going to get the chance to pack? When am I actually going to be well enough to pack? I seriously can't lift anything...

So I feel pretty low at the moment, and pretty sick of being SICK!

An Open Letter to the Fat, Balding, Drunken British Yob in Brugges

Dear Mr Fat, Balding, Drunken British Yob we met in Brugges,

Yes you.  Thank you for reinforcing my belief that British tourists when abroad are complete and utter twats.

We met you at the restaurant on the square in Brugges on Saturday night.  You and your simpleton family were on about their 4th or 5th bottle of wine when we arrived.  You particularly were being loud mouthed and noisy, but hey - we made our way to our table and ignored you.  Well, we managed to until I needed to go to the toilet.  I got up to go and you first of all insulted me by calling me a boy, and second of all insinuated that I was a paedophile as you expressed your concern about what I might exactly do with your roly poly lump of a son, who it seemed also needed to go.  The apple doesn't fall far from the tree on that one, now does it?

Then when I returned to my table you loudly wondered again what I had done with the git.  To the consternation of the whole restaurant, looking down into their meals out of embarrassment for yet another 'Brit Abroad'.

And then, when it was time for us to go, you again made some loud, obnoxious comment about me and your butt-ugly offspring, which this time received uproarious laughter from your inebriated simpleton family.

But the final straw was the Inspector Gadget reference you made when I put on my coat.  Now that was real wit, wasn't it?

So I would just like to say to you, congratulations, you spoiled my weekend in Brugges, and reinforced for me two things - first of all, that Brits abroad can be total yobs, and second of all - that every day I wake up and thank God that I'M NOT BRITISH!!!!

Jane's Birthday Bash in Brugges

So next weekend is Jane's birthday, and in honour of the event, we went to Brugges this weekend to check out the Christmas markets. The weekend though didn't get off to a particularly good start. This was because it was seriously thunder storming on Friday night. I am still fighting this blasted cold and had made my way home via the doctor's surgery - yes, it has been confirmed, I have a viral infection, and no, they won't give me antibiotics, the blighters!. Anyway, I was walking up the road from the doctor's when the heavens absolutely erupted. In the space of 200m my jeans were absolutely soaked. But the worst of it was when I got home. I arrived to a completely dark house - unusual I thought, maybe the girls have gone out - but when I got inside I discovered they actually were home, sitting around a torch trying to eat dinner. The power had gone out. Some berk, when installing the garden lights, thought it sensible to link them to the house lights - so when the garden lights get soaking wet, the house lights go off too. But do you think we could get the power back on again? Absolutely not. And I needed power to dry off my jeans for tomorrow! In the end Dave, the landlord, had to come around and sort it out. We were a bit dubious about that, knowing his handyman skills (somewhat like Tim the Toolman Taylor) however we were lucky on this occasion and he ultimately got the power back on by isolating the fuse that the outdoor lights were on. Murphy's law though, would have it that it was the same switch as the lights to my room. Absolute bummer. So although I could power up peripherals like TVs and computers, I couldn't light my room except for candles. Fortunately though my jeans dried, and in time for the trip the next morning. Jane's friend Sharon had stayed the night, she was coming on the trip too, so we all set off fairly early in the morning and made our way down to Eurotunnel. After a fairly uneventful crossing, we headed off to Cite Europe for a spot of shopping as we weren't sure if it would be open the next day, Sunday, on our way back. We found out though that it would - it's December after all - so moseyed on around the shops for a few hours. The weather had been gorgeous leaving England, but unusually was overcast and grey when we arrived in France. This then turned into full on thunderstorms with heavy rain by the time we started to make our way to Belgium. It was quite late at night when we finally arrived at the Formule 1 in Zeebrugge, so we quickly dumped our stuff and drove into Brugges. It was absolutely pinging it down as we wandered around the remnants of the christmas market (including the giant 'swimming pool' that was the ice skating rink - devoid of skaters in this weather though) and then we went for dinner. More on that in another post. Made our way back to the hotel, and headed off for bed. The next day we went back into town and this time all the stalls of the Christmas markets were open. We spent a lovely few hours sampling waffles, hot chocolate, hotdogs etc as we wandered around the markets. I got some really nice Belgian chocolate too. Then the rain returned much more heavily so we packed up and headed back to Calais. Bit more shopping there, then off to Eurotunnel, then home. It was a very enjoyable weekend, very cheap price too when we split the price between us all! Alas, now back to school....

10...9...8...7...

Yes, 7 days to go til we take the girls from school on our 2nd ever Music camp, to the Bowles Outdoor Education Centre in Tunbridge Wells. We had an amazing time last year and I'm really looking forward to it, but I have to say I am quite a bit frustrated. This is because of all the narrowmindedness I've had to deal with of some people. Seriously, the camp is costing an awful lot of money, and most of it is being paid for by the school. All we're asking is a small contribution from the parents, and we're funding the rest - but still after signing the forms to say the kids can come, some parents are now turning around and saying they can't afford it, so they won't let their kids go - after we've paid the money already for the camp and are not able to get a refund. Fortunately many of them change their tune when I tell them they'll have to pay the full amount if their daughters don't go on the camp... but it has been a very wearing day and I've been on the phone to so many of them! I appreciate Christmas is coming, but seriously! They're getting 4 days full board, outdoor activities, musical activities, transport - for £50! (cost to the school = £250!). Oy ve... not to mention that the parents who have been 'crying poor' are also the ones who provide new Nike shoes, the latest mobile phones, designer labels for their kids. Ok I appreciate that maybe they're brand copies, but it just goes to show where their priorities are... kids education... or latest gadgets... Anyway, looks like I've hopefully sorted most of it out, rock on next weekend!

It's Not Easy Being Green

Don't be alarmed. This is not going to be a post about global warming or the environmental agenda. Or even about Kermit the Frog.

I'm am absolutely sick to death of being sick!

I came down with a bit of a cold last Wednesday, which got progressively worse as the weekend approached.  Suffice to say spending an afternoon in the rain at the Boot Sale didn't help things either!

So I ended up having to have 2 days off school, Monday and Tuesday, and actually had to spend those days in bed.  Now normally if I'm sick, I'll sleep for a couple of hours, but then be able to potter about the house.  Not this time, I just could not get out of bed.  It was awful.  But the worst thing was, I wasn't getting any better.  Hacking up a lung, runny nose, fever - awful.

Then yesterday I had to go to Manchester for Inset (in-service training).  I had to take a 2 hour train journey there, leaving the house at 6am - this is no mean feat when you are not well.  Anyway, I was on the train, minding my own business, but then suddenly I got an attack of the killer coughs, and had to pack up my stuff (I had been doing some editing on my laptop) and go hack up my lung in the corridor.  It was awful.

No better once I arrived either.  Nor on the journey back... 

And I had to go to school today, I can't afford any more time off (and also it was parent night tonight).  I don't know when I'm going to get better, but I wish it would be soon... it's not easy being green...

Battered, Bruised And Beaten At Battersea Boot Sale

Today I endured one of those quintessentially English experiences. You know the ones I mean, like queuing for the bus in the rain only to watch the bus sail past as it is already too crowded to take on any new passengers, or enjoying the smelly armpits on a crowded Tube on a Summer's afternoon...  stuff like that. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, today I was initiated into the phenomenon that is the Car Boot Sale.

And oh boy, was I underprepared for the onslaught that ensued. I had been to a boot sale before, in fact I went to one with Mal and Ken when I first arrived, and I had also been to several computer fairs with them, so I thought I knew what I was getting myself into. Oh boy was I wrong.

Before I can go into all the gory details, I'd best give some background to the decision to actually participate in a boot sale. You see, Nicole is moving home and Jane has found somewhere cheaper to live, so from 25th December I am officially homeless, as I didn't want to have the responsibility of trying to find new housemates when I would be in Australia anyway. They would move in whilst I was away, and I would be more than a bit worried about strangers in my house around my stuff, if you know what I mean. Plus its really expensive at our place anyway, so it's time I found somewhere cheaper. Of course, this means downsizing - as prior to Le Villa Wavertree, I had lived by myself in Chateau La Hackbridge, thus necessitating purchases of furniture, cooking utensils etc, and therefore accruing a whole load of STUFF. In order to live more cheaply I'm going to need to move into a shared house, hopefully already set up with this stuff, so it's time to get rid of a lot of it. It's sure not going to fit into a small room.

The UK is not as set up as Oz with regards to the Trading Post. Sure, they have their 'Loot' magazine - but there's a lot of whackos out there and I wouldn't feel comfortable about them coming over and looking at my furniture. Then there's the 'Gumtree' - clientele mostly Aussies and Kiwis - well I put some stuff on there, but no joy. So that left the last resort, the Pommy version of the garage sale - the car boot sale.

Now these mostly take place on a Sunday (I think there may be some on a Saturday though), usually in school car parks and other buildings / open lots which are not used on the weekend. Jane did all the leg work and phoned up the one at Battersea Technical College, which is apparently a very good one, and we got ourselves a plot booked for Sunday 11th, at a cost of £12. They told us to arrive at 12.45pm and the sale would open at 1pm. I was a bit skeptical, as it would only give us 15 minutes to set up, but went along with it, because we didn't exactly have any other options, now did we.

Well as I said before, it's been some time since I've been to a boot sale, and as Jane and I both had things to sell, I thought it best if we price up our items with coloured post it notes. I kind of envisaged the two of us sitting happily on a couple of chair behind a table, people casually strolling by, looking at our merchandise, negotiating the price with us - and we would calmly write on the post-it the new price, stick the post-it in a container with the money and later on work out how much we each made. Pretty good idea, I thought.

Sunday approached and the weather looked grim. This was not aided by the fact that I have been suffering for several days now with a heavy duty cold - laryngitis, sniffles, sinusitis, and a huge hacking cough. So I wasn't feeling the best about the boot sale, but it's the only weekend we can do it, so we loaded up the car and set off. Nicole had given me a little warning beforehand - she said that we would do the most selling within the first 10 minutes and that it would be to other stall holders, as they would scout around to see what they could get cheap and mark up for their own stall. She also said they'd probably swamp us as we were setting up. Ok, I thought, I can handle that.

Oh no we couldn't. We pulled up to our alloted spot, got out the car, and the minions descended upon us like vultures on a rotting carcass. I hadn't even made it to the boot before some guy was screaming at me "Any mobile phones? Any mobile phones? Any Playstation?". "Go ask her" I said, indicating Jane, as I knew she had some. So I opened the boot to start unloading, and no joke, people started pulling things out of my car and looking at them. They were screaming for the TV, for the computer monitor, for mobile phones, for Jane's computer (she was offloading her old Mac), and they were pushing and shoving, and I was being pushed away from the car. And that's when it got nasty.

Picture this: Jane is over by the passenger door, swamped by people bidding on her computer, playstation, you name it - I'm trying to unload the boot, being pushed away by people scrambling to see what we have - one guy takes out Jane's sky tv box, another the computer monitor - I'm trying to keep an eye on them - then I see one guy's got my old camcorder and asking the price for that. He wasn't keen on the price I gave him, so he put it on top of one of the boxes I'd unloaded. Someone else is now crowding around looking at my garden chairs, I'm trying to keep an eye on everything, people are shouting, screaming, pushing - and then one bloke asks me if the guy had paid for my camcorder. What guy? Yep, you guessed it, some guy walked off with my camcorder. "He's just over there," the other guy says. "Where?" I hadn't even seen him, and I was off wandering around. But of course, I never saw him. The blighter walked off with a perfectly good Canon camcorder which originally cost me £300. And I had committed the cardinal sin - I had left my post - so Jane couldn't handle all the people crowding us as I was looking for my camera. I lost my Star Wars electronic game (a real collector's item), my computer speakers and my camcorder.

The afternoon was therefore wrecked for me. My top selling items had been nicked, and no-one was interested in my coffee table, or my dining table, or even my external modem. Jane made a real killing, she sold her playstation, a TV, her mac, her video recorder, her DVD, mobile phones, DVDs... you name it, if she had it, it went. Fairly. Not nicked.

Me, I managed to offload a little bit of stuff, but not all that much. Coupla books, coupla CDs, coupla DVDs, but that's about all. One bloke, looking through my CDs, asked if I had any Jazz. "Sure, here's some Herbie Hancock," I replied, showing him the disk. "Never heard of him" was the response. He only wanted - get this - Kenny G! That's the guy's extent of jazz knowledge! Oy ve. Meanwhile, Jane, being somewhat obscure in musical and movie taste (compared to mine) - managed to offload a whole heap more than me. Just goes to show you what sort of people go to these boot sales... either that, or I should worry about my taste in music...

I was feeling pretty low about the whole thing, and about the only saving grace was that Agnieszka had been in the neighbourhood, popped in to see us and plugged us with fresh, steaming hot coffee (oh and a yummy muffin!). Very welcome on such a cold, miserable, overcast afternoon. We'd been there about 2 hours when the heavens, which had been threatening for so long, finally opened up, so we cut our losses (again, mostly mine), packed up and headed home.

Final tally: Jane, most things sold, only 1 thing nicked (a hat) =£400+ after costs. Me, most things unsold, several things nicked (worth £300+) = £70 after costs.

In the words of Queen Victoria - WE ARE NOT AMUSED!!

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

I just love winter in London. Oh I know, it's cold, gloomy, gets dark ridiculously early and rains a lot - but there's such a charm about the city when its a cold, dark night, wandering around the brightly lit up shops, seeing the Christmas shoppers scurrying past with their purchases, anxious to get indoors and out of the cold. That's when all those old carols about 'chestnuts roasting on an open fire', or 'city sidewalks dressed in holiday style',all 'in the bleak midwinter' - that's when they make sense. And there really were street vendors roasting chestnuts - yum! Now don't get me wrong, I wouldn't actually like to spend the whole of Christmas here (I mean, I have done that, but Christmas is for family, which is why I will always go home for it), however there is still a certain magic in the air when wandering the stores of London at Christmastime.

This was brought home to me tonight, as I found myself driving along the beautifully lit King's Road en route to the lovely Knightsbridge. This trip was made in honour of a certain new niece, as I was making my way up to a certain exclusive Department Store to procure that most elusive of gifts an Aunty living in London should give her gorgeous new niece - a 'My First Harrods Bear'.
Now can I just say, these things have been sold out for months! I've been trying to get one ever since I knew young Bethany was on her way - phoning up to see if they're in stock, each time being told they're still sold out. Finally, today, when I phoned up - they informed me there was ONLY ONE left. They reluctantly agreed to put it away for me on the proviso that I picked it up before close of sale today - 8pm. So, I drop everything, jump in the car (its too cold for the bus, honestly) and rush off to Harrods.

Finding a place to park in Knightsbridge is no mean feat. Normally I park at the Brompton Oratory (albeit illegally), as the Traffic Hitlers don't seem to check there - but tonight it was full. Fortunately Holy Trinity Brompton church came to the rescue, and I parked quite happily in their grounds before making the actually very pleasant short stroll in 6 degree temperatures up to Harrods. Oh my, the Christmas lights and the storefront decorations on Brompton Road just took my breath away!

But it was the decorations in Harrods itself that won the prize. Gorgeous storefront decorations, glorious Christmas scenes, expensive jewellery draped everywhere glittering like tinsel, - oh it was beautiful. Wandering around the store, with the glamorous decorations, was like walking in a winter wonderland. And the price! Way above my budget, I can tell you.... Not to mention the wonderful food in their food halls - rich Christmas puddings, chocolates to die for, and the entrancing smells of the Harrods Christmas coffee (a personal favourite of mine). Then there was their 'regular' items. Amethyst stone carvings at £900, a mammoth tusk for £2000 - an 'Armani Junior' t-shirt (T-SHIRT, I TELL YOU) for £70 - oh the lifestyles of the rich and famous... oh to have that sort of money...

About the only thing I could actually afford was my Bethany's bear... and some Wensleydale cheese for Mum... oh and some Krispy Kreme donuts coupled with a Starbucks Eggnog latte... not a bad evening's shopping after all...

If It's Summer in Australia, It Must Be....

I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here! Yay, my favourite show is back! And with some weirdo "celebs" too... I put 'celebs' in inverted commas because, other than Cerys Matthews, Janice Dickinson and Katie Hopkins, I had never ever heard of ANY of them! Since when does a football pundit or a PR guru constitute a celebrity? But either way, it's the best in reality tv, so BRING IT ON! For more info, check out: I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here!

'Allo 'Allo

Last Saturday, on a not so fine day, 13 ladies from Sutton Salvation Army took the plunge, jumped in 3 cars, and ventured into the great unknown which is the Eurotunnel. Yes, it was the Sutton SA Ladies Day Trip to France... And what a day it was! Ridiculously early start (due to the proximity (or lack thereof) of Sutton to Folkestone) - we met at the Hall at 7.45am with the intention of setting off at 8.00am. And we very nearly did it too, except me being the natural born teacher I am, at the last minute announced, "Now we all have our passports, don't we?" to discover that 2 of our number did not. Fortunately they live very close to the Hall, so it was a quick dash home and then off we went. We made good time down to Folkestone too, just under an hour and a half, and we raced into the terminal for a quick cuppa. It was at this point that one of the ladies (of the forgotten passport fame) discovered that her passport had expired some 11 months earlier! Oh no... Fortunately we had a chat with the Eurotunnel people, and apparently this is a common occurence. They thought that the customs people either wouldn't notice the date in her passport, or wouldn't care about it - so we crossed our fingers and decided to go for it. Some security hey, she made it. And actually the only car that had any sort of delay with passports, well, was mine - with the only non EU passport (that would be mine too). I encountered a bit of questioning by the Pommy customs dude upon re-entry to the UK. Anyway, I digress. We got our train to Calais, but unfortunately got split up, and were all in 3 separate carriages (although Ira and I were in adjacent ones, but Vanessa was in the same carriage as us but on the underneath level). I thought this would pose problems upon exit at Calais, but amazingly, Vanessa came out of the train and pretty much the exact time we did, so we travelled in convoy to Wissant for a spot of lunch. Now I was only in Wissant a few weeks ago, but the change was amazing. There's been a lot of rain by the channel, and the beach in Wissant was practically non-existent, with the tide being right in (and quite ferocious, at that). It was extremely windy there too, so we didn't dally there long, but made our way into town for a spot of lunch. Yum! After lunch it was time to head back to Cite Europe to accomplish our main objective of the day - SHOPPING!!! Oh boy, did some of us shop, too! Me, I was a bit careful about my spending, and really only bought presents for people or a spot of cheese for me (oh and some more sephora, I mean, hey, a girl can never have too much - AND it was 20% off too!). We arranged to meet at the food court for a crepe and a coffee before getting the train back to the UK - but as we were waiting for our food, we suddenly became aware of a loud, incessant beeping noise, followed by an announcement in French. Looking around us, none of the other diners seemed too perturbed by this - nor the waiters for that matter - and so we asked one of the waiters what was going on. "Oh, it is as you say, a fire alarm. Ze are evacuating people." What? So we made our way to our cars - only to realise that we were all parked in different locations, and there was the hugest of queues exiting the car park - and our train was leaving in 20 minutes! Suffice to say that we missed our train, and in fact, 2 of us made it onto the same train, and Ira ended up on the train behind us. We waited for her in Folkestone before we all journeyed in convoy back to Sutton. What a day, hey?

Robin Hood, Maid Marian - and The Nottingham Belfry Hotel

Hi all, This won't be a blog of my usual standard, sorry, but that's for two reasons. 1. I'm very busy at the moment - more on that later. 2. I don't think anyone is actually reading this anymore. No comments have been coming through.

I wonder if I should take the hint therefore? Shut down the blog? But I really enjoy doing it...

Anyway, this week I have been in Nottingham for a 2 day Music Specialist Colleges Conference (yes, important individual that I am). I got to live in the lap of 4 star luxury for 2 days (well, 1 night - school wouldn't pay for my accommodation the night before the conference started - even though I argued it was better to go the night before and therefore not be at the mercy of British Rail very early in the morning to try to ensure being on time - and not to mention that the train ticket the night before was cheaper... so I had to foot that cost myself in a crappy hotel in downtown Nottingham!)

But the Nottingham Belfry hotel is very lovely, I had a huge room and it was really luxurious (for a lowly teacher like me) and the conference was very informative. Heard a really good choir today, Madrigalis from the Northampton School for Girls - they were quality. Learned about all sorts of wierd and wonderful web things that I didn't really know much about before but which make me sound like I'm speaking Chinese or something - wikis, nings and so on - heard some very inspirational speakers (Howard Goodall and Richard Stilgoe to name two) and some not so inspirational speakers (a lesson in how not to present a workshop to delegates paying £395 a head!). But all that being said, it was really a very enjoyable, informative two days.

Alas now its back to the rat race, with Awards evening tomorrow night, full day of teaching on Friday (alas!) and then! A lovely day trip to France with the Sutton ladies...

Meanwhile, check out my lovely room with the plasma screen TV...thank you very much....

Welcome To The World - Bethany Grace Goff

I just had to post these pictures of my new niece, Bethany Grace Goff, born 30th October 2007, weighing in at 7lbs 13 or something. What a little honey!

If You're British, Join The Queue!

The Brits, well, they love their queues. I don't mean in a plutonic sort of way, no, seriously man, they LOVE their queues. Anywhere, anyhow they can get them, they'll get in a queue. Wanna buy a chocolate? Join the queue. Wanna get on the bus? Join the queue. Wanna get on the tube? Join the queue... So today, still being half term, I decided to go up town to the Natural History Museum. I've never been there, and I have to say, it was really good. Actually I need to go again, because I really didn't see all of it the first time. Why? Because of the queues... There was a queue to go in. A queue to buy tickets to the special displays (one showing the winners and runners up in the Wildlife Photography of the Year, one about Antarctica). A queue to get coffee. A queue for the loo. And the biggest, hugest, longest (45 minute!) queue to see the Dinosaurs... no wonder I didn't get to see it all! I did see the Wildlife Photography display, this was incredible. There were some absolutely amazing photos - like the one of a cheetah in the Serengeti - where you could see the car the photographer was in reflected in the eyes of the cheetah - or the one of the penguin jumping out of the water, or the shark jumping out of the water... the pictures were incredible. I also went to the "Antarctic" special display, but was rather disappointed in this, as although the woman selling me the ticket assured me it was for adults too, alas, it was mostly a child's thing. Lot's of interactive displays that you had no chance of looking at for the minions of kids already on them. Oh well. After this, I headed into Oxford Street, because today they were launching the new Mac OS - Leopard. I found out yesterday I'm eligible for the upgrade for free (well, nearly free - I have to pay p&p on the disk as I have to buy it online) because my Mac arrived after 1st October. So, I thought I would go up and have a bit of a look at the Launch, as I would like to see what the changes are in the OS. Seriously, that was a stupid thing to do. First of all, I got the tube from South Kensington to Oxford St, and upon arrival, discovered that I couldn't leave the tube - because they were holding people back on the pavement due to congestion. So we had to queue to leave the tube... and fight the crowds on Oxford St... just to leave the station. I then made my way around the corner towards the Apple shop - to be confronted by the longest queue I have seen in a while (barring the Wimbledon queue, of course!) - it was snaking right around the block and almost back double on itself! I should've given up then, but decided, as I didn't have anything else to do today, I would stay and see what it's all about. I'm glad I did, it was very interesting and can't wait for my copy of Leopard to arrive - although with the ongoing postal strikes, goodness only knows when that will be...

Swimming With Sharks!

No, this isn't going to be a post about swimming with the Wobbegong at the Tangalooma wrecks, sorry to disappoint. Instead, its a post about the recent play I went to see, "Swimming with Sharks", starring Christian Slater, and currently playing at the Vaudeville Theatre, Strand. Also starring Helen Baxendale, a.k.a Ross' British wife "Emily" from Friends.

I managed to get cheap tickets to the Thursday matinee for this from lastminute.com, for £18.75. I thought that was pretty good because they're normally £30+. I decided though to go by myself as its half term holiday and many of my friends have gone away, plus I really wanted to see this play. The play is about a movie producer called Buddy Ackerman (played by Christian Slater, who was absolutely excellent) who is basically the boss from hell. He has a new assistant, Guy, who is an aspiring screenwriter, and the play centres around Guy's rise up the career ladder. It has a dark twist at the end, and the script is really captivating and enthralling.

As I said, I went to see this one by myself, and when I arrived at the theatre I discovered that all holders of 'Upper Circle' tickets were immediately upgraded to the 'Dress Circle' - and could choose a seat in rows F or G. I sat down and not long after, a Kiwi girl sat down a few seats away from me, also on her own. She was quite a talkative sort, and I enjoyed a very pleasant chat with her, although I was very peeved to find that she couldn't pick my accent (aw - come on - seriously!) although I could pick hers straightaway (like that's hard with Kiwi accents) and also she had rather an unfortunate laugh, and insisted on laughing throughout the whole play. Now I might just add at this point - it's not a comedy...

Anyway, it was a very enjoyable afternoon and a very pleasant play. Both Christian Slater and Helen Baxendale were absolutely amazing, and the set was incredible too - very versatile. A lovely afternoon, after all...

Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life!

This week is half term from school, and surprisingly, I haven't gone away anywhere. This is not for want of trying, mind, but I wasn't really able to get my 'a' into gear, and so my various plans fell thorough. Originally I wanted to go to the Yorkshire Dales and hike the Dales Way - a 6 or 9 day 100 mile hike (depending on how hard you wanted to go each day) - but I didn't manage to sort out my accommodation or transport properly, and so that trip didn't happen. This puts me in the unusual position of being on holiday but still in London. What am I to do?

Well, rather than be depressed about it, I decided I would 'always look on the bright side of life' and make the most of it, so yesterday I started my Christmas shopping. Took myself off to Knightsbridge and had a wander around the shops. I have discovered the 137 bus takes me direct there, from the end of my road - pretty good eh, when you consider Mayor Ken has just recently put down the cost of a bus ride if you use your Oyster card - from £1.00 to £0.90 - if you don't have an Oyster it costs you an exhorbitant £2.00!

Anyway, wandered around the shops, had a lovely afternoon tea (yummy New York cheesecake and Cafe Latte) at Harrods, then moseyed on back to Chateau La Streatham.

Today I messed around doing some housey type stuff in the morning, then got my favourite 159 bus up to town to meet friends for coffee and to go to the National Portrait Gallery. The National Portrait Gallery really was quite interesting, they have portraits of so many different famous people, but my favourites were:

• The Tudor gallery - really liked the pics of Walsingham, Sir Frances Drake and of course Elizabeth I.
• The pics of Joseph Banks and Captain Cook (hey what Aussie wouldn't be interested in those) - oh and of Governor Philips too
• The pics of Diana, Princess of Wales
• The Warhols - especially Elizabeth II.

Anyway, after this we went for dinner at Satsumas before heading off to see a show. We'd been to the half price booths and managed to get tickets to "Spamalot" for £18 - much reduced from the £30 so-called 'half price' tickets that were being offered by the 'official' half price booth!

The show was amazing! The special effects were really quite spectacular considering they were being done live on a stage, the singing was very good (the Woman in the Lake though was the best, just amazing - such a tonal range she had!), the story captivating - but for me the best part was that the actor playing "King Arthur" was none other than Peter Davidson. Ok, now I'm sure you're sitting there going - who? But if I tell you that he was one of the old Doctor Who's - you might get it - but if you're from my family and I tell you that he was Tristan in "All Creatures Great and Small" - ah, there you go! His singing, to be fair, was pretty pov, but his comic timing and general performance was excellent.

I had a bit of a look on you tube for some clips, but all I could find was one from the Tony Awards, and one about the World Record attempt they did recently for the largest coconut orchestra, where they packed out Trafalgar Square on St George's day with people playing coconuts to "Always Look On The Bright Side Of Life". Here they are:





Shame the dudes around the camera person are rubbish singers!

Anyway, I really enjoyed the evening, it was awesome, such an enjoyable show, such clever music, such a funny script. Quality...

Rendition

Tonight Jane, Nic and I went to see "Rendition". We decided to brave the local Odeon here in Streatham, despite our better judgement (remember last time I went to the Odeon with Jane she had to get a woman chucked out because her child wouldn't be quiet). Suffice to say the Streatham population again didn't disappoint, and although they weren't bad enough to warrant calling for the manager, they were disruptive. I just don't get it. Why pay £7 to 'not see' a movie, and be disruptive and noisy? Can't you do that at home for free? Anyway, I thought the film was very good, much better than "The Kingdom" (although to be honest, that wouldn't be hard). The plot was excellent, there was a bit of a twist to it all (always a good thing I think) and the acting pretty good - I particularly liked Reese Witherspoon's and Meryl Streep's performances, although I thought Jake Gyllenhaal was pretty ordinary. I have never seen any of his films and I don't really know, judging from this one, what all the fuss is about. He was watchable, I guess. At least there was enough in the plot to keep you going, rather than focussing on his average performance. So on the kmuki 'film-o-metre', I'd give this one about a 7, and "The Kingdom" about a 3. If you're wanting a film about Islamic extremists, go for "Rendition" - steer well clear of "The Kingdom" unless you want headaches and a bit of a snooze.

The Kingdom

So on Friday night I went to see "The Kingdom" starring Jamie Foxx. Now to be honest, I haven't actually seen any films of his, so I wasn't really sure what to expect, but hey, it's half term and I haven't been to the movies for a while, and the synopis looked kind of interesting. Yeah, in a back of the eyelids sort of way. Don't go see this film if you are susceptible to epileptic fits. Ok, I know epileptics are affected by flashing lights, and there weren't any in this film, so I'm being facetious, but seriously, the whole film was shot by some guy using a handheld on the back of a moving vehicle who had never heard of a tripod. I mean, really! I had a major headache by the end. I don't know how they think that style of shooting is acceptable, I'm surprised that they haven't been sued by migraine sufferers or something! And as for Jamie Foxx? Well I don't get what all the fuss is about, actually. Cute factor = 0, acting ability = maybe 4 or 5... and there is really not much else to say about him. Jason Bateman was alright, I guess, but that was about it. Do yourself a favour, give this one a miss!

Sutton Ladies Day Trip To France Advertisement

Tonight whilst watching the rugby I was a tad antisocial and created a video advertising our up-and-coming day trip to France...

What do you think? Most of the footage was from when we went to France in May last year, and then the first bit is of Sutton High Street yesterday. I guess I have to be careful though about using "Flight of the Bumblebee" for fast motion stuff, better find something new or it will get pretty boring (remember I already used it for the 'How to Work a Lock' video). Any suggestions welcome, thanks. I got the idea for the Amelie music in the French bits from Erik, I was going to use the 'Allo 'Allo theme song, but then thought the ladies might subconsciously think the day trip would be a hapless comedy of errors... Oh and by the way, the 'star' actors in this little snippet are Erik, Nic and Q - and about a coupla hundred people wandering around Sutton High Street...

The Balance Has Been Restored

Phew! Although it took the Saffa's to do it, the balance has been restored. The Southern Hemisphere wins out again. Yes, I'm talking rugby world cup. Tomorrow at church will be so much easier now that the Poms were defeated, there shouldn't be too much snootiness going on, too much nose-rubbing, or some such. Thank goodness for that. The cup is going back to the 'Antipodeans'... Only hope next time I don't have to rely on an Antipodean team in a green or black jersey... come on you Wallabies!

Welcome to the Revolution

I have been a Mac owner now for a week. I have to say so far I have been very impressed with my new computer, it does all that it's supposed to, doesn't crash, pack up or have a hissy fit when I try to use more than one programme at a time (being female I am able to multi-task very well, thank you very much), it's very fast, very sleek, and very cool - and although I had a few initial concerns re the power adaptor (which actually was faulty - but Apple replaced it instantly, so no hassles there), I haven't had any problems since (touch wood). Unlike my poor school PC - which is off again getting rebuilt because goodness only knows why... it doesn't actually want to open up any programmes, which is a bit of a problem really. Don't get me wrong, I've not gone totally Mac-bonkers, I'm not about to go out there and make Mac vs PC adverts or something - I think both have their strong points - it's just that my recent experience of PCs has been in using the school ones which are always crashing, right when you're about to lead an assembly with Yr 8... or teach a lesson that's being observed... or just turn it on... But isn't it funny how once you go 'over to the dark side' you suddenly become aware of just how many others there are of you? Like for example, if you've never owned a Peugeot or something, once you buy one you suddenly notice how many other people have one? Or if you change to a Motorola phone, suddenly everyone else seems to have a Motorola? Well, its been like that for me with the Mac. I have to say that this week I have seen more people using Macbooks, Powerbooks, Macbook Pros - any type of Mac - than I have ever seen. Like for example, today we had workshops for the Yr 10s about the 200th Anniversary of the Abolition of Slavery (they're creating pieces to perform in honour of the event) - and the two workshop leaders both brought their Macbooks to school for the workshop. And yesterday I was in a meeting and one of the people there pulled out a Macbook. And the day before I was in another meeting - and low and behold there was a Macbook there too! Not to mention the guy in Starbucks using his Mac... with no PCs to be seen at any of these occasions. It's a Mac Revolution! They're taking over the world... and now that I've joined, it's actually not that hard to see why...

Scoot's Little Journey...

On Sunday morning I went out early to my car and headed off for church as usual. I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings as it was very early in the morning, and I had to be at the meeting early because the band were attempting a big number with the piano, an arrangement of Holy Holy Holy, and we needed the practise. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that I couldn't tell you if Jane's scooter, a.k.a "Scoot", was parked out the front of the house. But when I got home mid-afternoon I did register that he wasn't there in his usual parking spot. "Ah," I said to myself, "Jane's gone out." And I thought no more of it. It didn't even register later, when I headed up the stairs to 'see a man about a dog', and heard the TV in Jane's room. "Jane must be home," I thought. And again, thought no more of it. But about an hour later, Jane came bounding down the stairs, ready to head off to Kat's to watch the rugby. She went out to warm up Scoot - and he wasn't there. He wasn't down the side of the house, he wasn't on the street. He wasn't anywhere to be seen. It was as if the rapture had been and gone, taking him up to heaven, leaving his silvery cover in his place. No Scoot at all. Some blighter's gone and nicked 'im. Thus ensued a series of phone calls to the local constabulary to report Scoot's disappearance. "Madam, when did you last see your scooter?" Jane was asked. She could not recall, as she had not been outside the house that day. She asked me, but of course in my rush that morning, I hadn't noticed. The only certainty was that Scoot, practically devoid of petrol bar a few fumes, had been parked in his usual spot on Saturday night, and by Sunday afternoon was gone. The disappearance finally reported, there was nothing more for it, so Jane headed off to Kat's for the rugby and tried to, for the next few hours, put the whole sorry experience behind her. The next day, Jane had a flexi day from work, and ventured down to the High Street in search of groceries. She meandered home via several back streets, and lo and behold! There was Scoot, parked outside some blighter's house! Quickly, quickly, she rushed back to Chateau La Wavertree, grabbed her spare keys and raced back to rescue him from the den of thieves. Once Scoot was safely ensconced back at home, she phoned the police to alert them to his return. During the course of the conversation, she indicated that thieves had actually filled Scoot up - he now had a full tank of petrol. But how could they have managed to open the petrol tank without the keys? And why did Jane need her SPARE set to retrieve him, and not her usual keys? Elementary, my dear Watson - the keys had been in the ignition THE WHOLE TIME! Suffice to say, the lesson has well and truly been learned... all's well that ends well... this time...

The Boys Are Back In Town!

Last night was Erik's 30th birthday party, and a bunch of us from school went along. The party had a 'cross-dresser' theme, so the girls had to dress as boys, and the boys as girls! My friends Stacey and Agnieszka didn't want to brave the buses of London in their boy kit, so I invited them over so we could all get dressed here. Ken lent me his pinstripe suit jacket, a waistcoat and a hat, and I got a tie and shirt from Primark (very cheap - only £5).

It was a fun night, the highlight of the evening for 'Erika' was when 'her' 'brother' arrived from Boston, USA - completely a surprise!

Don't we all look a treat!

'Kyle' 'Hezekiah' and 'Mickey Spillane'"Evening, Madam!"'Kyle' and 'Erika'

A New Arrival...

Yay! Finally, it's here - MY NEW MAC!!

It arrived whilst I was at school. I was in the middle of teaching Yr 11 when a kid came down from reception with a note to say that it had arrived - oh boy, that was the longest 20 minutes til the pips (Pommy version of the bell) went - but luckily it was the lesson just before lunch and I could go up, get the Mac, and spend my lunch break setting it up (and to be honest, period 5 too as I had a free)...

I can't be bothered to take a photo of it, but I can post you a stock photo - here it is:
It's got:

• 2.2GHz Intel Core 2 Duo
• 1440 x 900 resolution
• 2GB memory
• 160GB hard drive
• 8x double-layer SuperDrive
• NVIDIA GeForce 8600M GT graphics with 128MB SDRAM
• 15 inch screen

Now why am I publishing all that gobbledy-gook? Because in 10 year's time, when I look back at this, I'll laugh at how excited I was over a computer with those specs (ok, who am I kidding, it'll probably be outdated within a month). Crikey, I remember how excited we all were when we finally got a 486!

So although the waiting was absolutely awful, it's now over and I am certainly one happy camper - hey, I need some sort of excitement and happiness, the Poms are playing the Frogs tomorrow, and it should've been us...

The Postal Strike

Today was the end of the second of two, 48-hour postal strikes which, according to the Times, have "crippled" the nation. I don't know so much about how accurate the "crippled" comment is, but I will say, it has been a right royal pain in the proverbial. Mostly, this is because, as you all know - I AM STILL WAITING FOR MY COMPUTER TO BE DELIVERED!

The issues at stake are the usual - money, job cuts, pensions, working conditions. The posties want more than the 2.5 or some such pay rise that is being offered. There's the possibility of the loss of some 40,000 jobs. The pension issue, I'll be honest, I don't actually know about, but I did hear some postie dude who phoned up LBC to talk about the working conditions. As far as I can make out, the management at Royal Mail want the posties to work in teams who would cover for each other when colleagues are absent - effectively making the posties work overtime for no extra pay.

Now I'll admit, that all seems pretty crap to me. And as such, in part, I'm sympathetic to their plight - I recognise their democratic right to strike (hey, I took part in the teacher's strikes back in 2002) - but come on - 48 hours at a time? With a 'rolling programme' of more strikes next week too? You've got to be kidding, right? Who do they think they are, Tube drivers?

Seems to me, the Poms are pretty good at this "strike" malarkey. First of all, seems like every other month the Tube drivers are on strike because of 'pay and working conditions'. Well, what do you expect in terms of working conditions - the trains run underground, and you knew this when you signed up for the job - so of course you're not going to see daylight in the day... Then there was the Firefighter's strike of 2002 - now that was a doozy! I had organised a trip to the Wigmore Hall for Year 7 that day - 150 kids on 3 coaches to go hear one of the "Bright Sparks" type concerts. It all started off fairly smoothly, we got all the kids on the coaches without too much hassle, headed off to the concert through typical standstill central London traffic, made it in good time to attend the concert. Kids slept through the concert (it was pretty dull, to be honest) and then it was time to hop in the coaches and go back to school.

Because the concert had taken place in the morning, the kids hadn't had lunch, and the way the kitchen operates at CEBS, we had to be back in time for lunch or there wouldn't be anything left for the kids. The first coach turns up and we ship a load of 'em off back to school. But the 2nd and 3rd coaches don't arrive. Slight problem. Where are they? Much phoning of CEBS, the coach company, CEBS again, the coach company again. Kids getting restless downstairs, being baby-sat by the staff (who are also getting restless). Me and Tina (the Head of Year) upstairs waiting for the coaches - and then we discovered the problem. One of the coaches, the 2nd one, to be precise, had spontaneously caught fire in the middle of a congested one-way street, literally around the block from where we were waiting. The 3rd coach is immediately behind it and can't get through. And all this in the middle of a firefighter strike!

The Government's contingency plan for the firefighter strike is to employ the Army's "Green Goddesses", antiquated fire trucks at least 50 years old, with a top speed of 50 mph, a portable pump, 2 hose reels and a first aid kit. Hm. Now I feel safe, don't you?

Anyway, the Green Goddess comes, puts out the fire, and then the police have the task of re-directing all traffic so that the 3rd coach can reverse down the one-way street and drive around a different way to get to us at the Wigmore Hall. Meanwhile, another coach is enroute to pick up the 2nd coach's passengers.

Suffice to say instead of being back at school at 1pm, it was 3.30pm before we got there. Thank you very much firefighters for your helpful strike!

Of course, now, thinking back to this, and in light of the postie's situation - I respect their right to strike, but only as long as it doesn't affect me - but it does. In the midst of all this pain and suffering, there is still one huge, serious, matter of life or death issue that hasn't been resolved - WHERE THE DEVIL IS MY COMPUTER?!!

A Pleasant Afternoon in Wissant

Despite the traumas of the Wallaby's loss to the Poms, we spent a very pleasant time in France on Saturday. We travelled over on the Eurotunnel (how I love how cheap that is!) and then made our way some quaint little back roads to a town called Wissant. Stella had suggested it to us as a lovely spot for lunch, it's a cute little seaside town with quite a few charming restaurants.

We made our way to the beach first. Quentin (a.k.a "Q", who had been on the Great CBA with us) wasn't able to make it on this trip because of the hoo-hah of the Schengen visa that all Saffas need to go to France, so he asked us to bring back something that reminded us of him. We weren't really sure what to get him, so in the end what we did was take photos of things that reminded us of "Q". Some of them were actually pictures of us being the "Q"...

Nic's Q....

Erik's Q...

My Q..

The last time I was on a beach in France was April this year, with Mum and Mal in Dunkirk, so obviously I was thinking of them, and took this picture for Mum...
Had a lovely seafood meal in one of the restaurants (although had never eaten cockles before, so that was a bit of an experience - plus I'm not a big fan of oysters so I kind of had to bury that one on the shell plate eh) and then we moseyed on to the shops for a visit to my favourite - Sephora! BTW Armani have a new perfume out, so of course I had to get that one...

Anyway it was a lovely day (marred of course by the dismal Wallaby performance...)!

An Open Letter To The Wallabies

Dear Wallabies,

I write to you tonight with heavy, despondent heart. I write to you as Anne of Green Gables, from the very depths of despair, as one for whom tomorrow will bring no dawn, no promise of 'being fresh, with no mistakes in it'. I write to you as one who has committed a crime, has seen the consequences of it, and has come to accept their guilt. You see, I have a confession, and an apology to make.

When you needed me, when you were suffering the humiliation of imminent defeat against a seemingly lesser opponent on paper, when you were struggling to hold your heads up, let alone high, with some pride - I, your number one fan, was not there. Oh, I was in France alright - but not at Marseille (seriously, who could afford the tickets?) - no, I went for lunch in a lovely little restaurant at Wissant before indulging in a spot of Christmas shopping at Cite Europe. And I wasn't wearing my Wallaby jersey like I normally would be on game day, nor was I carrying around an Aussie flag or anything like that. Nor was I watching the game (although I was getting text updates from Jane).

Now don't worry, I haven't lost my patriotism, my good old Aussie spirit, despite several years in the fray here in the UK. It's just that my Wallaby jersey, lovely as it is, is men's size, and therefore makes me look like a boy. And you can't go clothes shopping in France looking less than stylish - which is why I decided against wearing it on game day.

Now, with the benefit of hindsight, I know I shouldn't have gone shopping in France with it being game day with the Poms. I had serious doubts and feelings of grave premonition, which I should've listened to, and as a result, I should've stayed home, put on my Wallaby jersey and scarf, set up my flag, made a pavlova, held a barbie, blown up a few tim tams, cracked open a pack of Chicken Crimpys and stuck on a John Farnham CD. Especially as "Kicky Boy" was playing - your nemesis, Johnny "Mr Hog the Ball and Don't Let Anyone Attempt to Score a Try" Wilkinson - the man who makes all games deathly dull and boring, as the minute he gets the ball he kicks it for goal. Boring, boring BORING!!! We want a game with real rugby, with actual TRIES being scored!!

The last time we played England in the Rugby World Cup I was in Barcelona with Mum and Mal, sitting on the upper levels of a double decker bus, behind an English couple, touring the city. Oh what a tragic day that was, when we narrowly lost. And here again, the same thing happens - I'm in a foreign country, unable to support in my usual manner - "Kicky Boy" strikes and you go to pieces and lose the game.

Saturday was a dreadful repeat of that humiliating experience. I guess I am partly to blame, I didn't do my part - but boys, neither did you! Where were you? What on earth were you thinking? Who were this group of impostors who turned up to 'play' rugby? How can you do this to the country? How can you do this to me, knowing I had to return to the UK through UK customs, suffering grave ribbing and taunts by the customs official (and having to be polite lest they deny me re-entry). And not only the taunts of the customs dudes, no, I have to go to Band on Tuesday night, and bare the brunt of it all - all because last week I, your number one fan, wore my true colours and decked myself out in my Wallaby jersey to go rub it in the face of the Pommy bandsmen. Oh, how that plan backfired!

But the final insult, is now that the Kiwis are out too (to be honest, I wasn't really very cut up about that, sorry Jane) - and Fiji have gone - I find myself in the unenviable position of having to support the Saffas, because there is just no way we can have a Northern Hemisphere team win the world cup again... especially not the Poms, I just couldn't bear it (or endure the humiliation...)

Boys, I love ya - but this problem with "Kicky Boy" and the Poms is seriously wearing thin... DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!! You can't go on like this...

I remain your number one fan (for now),

kmuki

The Waiting Game

It's quite a well known fact I'm not a very patient individual. I absolutely hate waiting. Traffic? Hate it. With a vengeance - sitting there, wasting time, for no apparent reason (other than the fact there are too many cars on the road). Buses? Hate 'em. You wait, and wait, and wait - and then when one finally comes, it's too full, so they don't stop to let passengers on. Restaurants? Love going, hate waiting. Especially when they're not that busy, or the waitress / waiter is too lazy to come and take your order, or too busy talking to their friends to actually provide a service (include check out chicks in that one too). And at some restaurants, despite keeping you waiting forever for your food, they still have the hide to expect a tip (like, why would I tip if I've been kept waiting?). New series of Prison Perv? Love the show, hate waiting for it. And once the new season starts, there's then the waiting game for each week's episode...

So if I can at all avoid it, I won't be kept waiting. If there's something that I want to buy, and I can buy it now and take it home (rather than order it online and wait for ages) - unless the price is hugely different, I'll probably go that option.

Which is why it's a little out of character when you hear the story of my mac. I've wanted one for a while, but when it comes to spending big money, I try to do the right thing and do my research properly before I buy - so I've been looking into macs for a couple of months now (well since July anyway). A couple of weeks back, I found myself in the mac store in Regent Street - with a very good deal on a macbook pro - and I bought it. But when I got it home I realised that I really wanted the one with more memory - and the only place to buy it was online. Aaagghh! So I take that one back and order the one I really want - only to be told that despite the fact online it estimates delivery in 7-10 days (give me strength), no, its going to be THREE WEEKS!!!! THREE WHOLE WEEKS?!! How can I wait that long?

But its the one I really want, plus you get a free nano with it. 4GB video model. Ok, well I guess I waited 3 months, 3 more weeks isn't going to kill me.

Except it is! The waiting is unbearable!

So I went online to check on the 'status of my order' yesterday - only to find it should have been shipped 3 days ago! I phoned them up - because also I wanted to see if I could change from a 4GB to an 8GB nano - and they said that I can't change my order because IT'S ON THE VAN! But still I haven't received the 'shipping despatch' email they promised to send when it's on it's way - which means it's sitting in the back of some van in Hong Kong or something - when it should be here already!

I don't think I can take it anymore... Hurry up, Apple!