JustJottings

At Last, Word From The Dusty African Plain!

  Finally, today, just three days before Daughter's return, came news from the African plains.  Postal anticipation finally rewarded.  She's been gone since 7th July.  A strange feeling overwhelmed me as the coach left for Heathrow, loaded with young people full of anticipation and excitement which, in most cases, I suspected masked a certain nervousness about the challenges ahead.  It felt like that first day at school.  There was a sense that they'd be changed in subtle ways by the experience; more mature and independent, embarking upon

Paul And The Puddings!

 Tomorrow, I'll be firmly under this man's gaze from 9am - 6pm and am feeling a little buzz of excitement about it.  Have been in dialogue with Paul's man-on-the-ground, Matthew, and picked up all sorts of background info.  (I know I said 'man' but, in reality, Matthew sounded about 12!)  I've also spoken to Vicky in the entourage, who seems to be in a permanent start of delirious happiness . . . is this the 'Paul effect', or is it a case that half the dose would do?  Sorry, that sounded SO uncharitable, I expect she's just a 'glass three-quarters full' kind of girl.  In a nothing ventured, nothing gained moment, I've done something with which daughter is seriously unimpressed . . .

Atomic Fusion And Unrelated Matter!

Who's the lucky one?  Not me!  Listened to the finer points of atomic fusion in the car this morning - Chemistry AS today, you see!  Things do seem to have moved on since I was forced to learn the Periodic Table by rote.  But it works, you know!  Son thought he'd catch me out the other day by asking me the symbols for certain substances.  Blow me down, the info was retrieved from the furthest recesses of my brain and the CORRECT answers shot from my mouth with the speed and accuracy of Robin Hood's bow!  Have to admit basking in a moment's inner glow as

Mathematical Mayhem at Number 9!

A disaster has struck the daughter.  Pencil case has been 'misplaced', I prefer to call it stolen, nicked, pilfered, lifted - need I go on?  (I suppose I have done already, sorry!)

Not a calamity of the first order you may well be secretly thinking, unless, of course, your have your AS level maths exam tomorrow and no equipment.  At my very best in 'emergencies' I felt something 'kick start' inside.   Recognise it as my 'I won't be beaten' mode and begin an inventory of missing goods . . . 

It's Outrageous - A Girl Should Be Given Notice . . .

I SO Wasn't Looking My Best When It Happened . . .

It was a funny day today, usual routine upended.  Daughter on study leave so no school run.  OK, I was at my PC in my PJs but just intended to check my emails and then go for a shower.  You know how it is, one thing leads to another and didn't hit the bathroom until 10.30am.  (Please don't 'tut', I know, I know!)  Instead of the usual 7am shower, hair wash, dressed, quick blast with the hairdrier and away, came down dressed - thank the Lord - but with dripping wet hair.  Reinstalled at computer and just about to write something deeply meaningful, when Alf sprang up on 'red alert'.  Caused me a palpitation or two as I also leapt to my feet, shocked out of my reverie, to see whether the world had really ended or whether it was another of Alf's false alarms!

Gratitude Journal Stardate April 21 2009 . . .

Today I was truly blessed.  Left home in good time for appointment at hairdressers.  How can cones and roadworks appear overnight when I only ever see 'workmen' chatting and drinking tea?  Town in gridlock.  Now likely to be late. Drat.  Hate being late.  Can't be late today as taking daughter for interview with possible mentor at 4pm!  Navigate blockage and head for car park on side of town to enable quick escape as I (plan) to emerge from salon with sun-kissed tresses and a light spring in my step.

Immortalised!

Sorry, the Dobbin thing is dragging on a bit, isn't it.  Will try to be succinct. 

Day Two at The High Chaparral again began with vacuum extraction of daughter from pit.  Husband took her on his cross country route then went to work.  Jubilant call to tell me how much quicker it was.  Enters into long string of directions.  Mentally shut down as know I'm in a motorway mood today.  But this is what you've been waiting for . . . the arrival of Immortalised in his air conditioned horse Hilton.  No clattering old box trailing straw for this lad, oh no, just the very best.  This picture is not the stallion himself but he looks very much like this Johnnie Depp of the horse world.  But his behaviour, oh my . . .

Eau de Dobbin and equine essences . . .

Sorry, been absent for a while.  Life's been giddy, just managed to keep the nostrils above water.  Spent most of last week travelling to and from Bath, delivering or collecting daughter from a famous Stud.  Now, to say her education (and mine) have been expanded is rather understating the situation.  I've learned that the pungent pong of horses (however blue-blooded they may be) is absorbed as though by osmosis.  You're not old enough to know what daughter was studying . . . thank heavens I didn't get further than the yard, the lab would have been a step too far!  I'd better tell you about Immortalised! 

They're all the same . . .

The German exchange continues.  We haven't swopped a German you understand, we've gained one from Gottingen (civic heraldry shown left) which became a city in the early 13th Century. 

Having enjoyed Tom 's company over the last 24-hours, I notice he displays exactly the same tendencies as our own 15-year old!  Take the PE kit, for example.  Son is heavily into fitness and suggested to Continental friend he might like to visit the school gym at the end of the day yesterday.  Tom was very keen as at home they're not permitted to use a gym until the age of 16.  He

Fraulein Frenzy on the Midnight Coach . . .

With the precision of an expensive timepiece the Mercedes Benz coach purred round the corner EXACTLY at the allotted time of Midnight.  I would expect nothing less from our German travellers.  The much-awaited moment had come.  The braver parents (self included) stood on the pavement outside school while the remainder were invisible in the darkness of their parked cars.  A cacophony of partially broken voices splintered the silence twenty feet or so away.  Their german teacher arrived and made 'shushing' noises.  As I looked on, I admired her spirit - she was surrounded by boys whom, for the most part, were a good foot taller!

As the coach drew to a halt, there was a rush of young ladies to the front.  Now, it may have been the lighting in the coach, but I felt sure they'd been busy with combs and make-up bags since the M4 turn off, 45 minutes away!  Son's name was called first and he stepped forward to greet his guest . . . the young ladies oggled . . . and he waited . . . in the assessing gaze of the Frauleins.  What was the problem?  Had our visitor been left at Gatwick or done a runner?