Smash.....

...went the milk bottle on the kitchen floor. T is ill again, but well enough to get milk bottles out of the fridge and drop them.

I was very gallant and lent him my slippers to go safely out of the kitchen in. In the old days I'd shout at both boys to climb up on the chairs and stay there while I cleared up asap.

Not having small children, I didn't clear it up within 5 minutes. Which meant I was slightly surprised to find it all still there in its slivers and pint of milk glory after I had done something I could have postponed like finishing my bowl of cereal and reading the paper.

I then made a real meal of mopping it up. I think I had simply forgotten my technique for this job. I used to be really good at it! Anyway I rediscovered my method eventually.

'Life long learning' is a nice phrase which in my case is more accurately put as 'life long learning, forgetting and rediscovering the hard way'.

4am

We did some more dawn chasing today. I was up at 4am, then we were in the car and off at 4.15am. We got to the Clumps at 4.30am, bumped into a group of young men also doing something dawn-related, and found our spot.

I had a blanket round me so I caved in and simply curled up on the damp ground and pretended I was back in bed. In spite of that the birds sang so sweetly and each chirping was in some way different from the previous one.

When I opened my eyes I could see the dew on each of the blades of grass and seed heads.

Another odd thing happened, all of a sudden I felt the temperature shift upwards a bit, that must have been when the sun shone over the horizon. I hadn't expected it at all, so there is a new finding.

Thomas stood and watched for the photo he had planned. He was 200 watts short of the level of light he really needed for the shot he wanted! So he came back with just one test shot.

Anyway, we have both had much needed extra hours of sleep now.

News from Sweden

Read this English article about the latest school law passed in Sweden, which contains a small but evidently non-negotiable section on Home Education:

http://rohus.nu/en/?English_information

It looks as if the campaign of emails and discussion over a whole year since last June has caused many people to debate these issues, ones around home education and far more importantly the whole process of making laws in Sweden.

Hopefully this will have a good and fruitful outcome all round.

Who moved my cheese?

I love this book. It is simple and right. I have scurried off to find 2 new cheeses today, a chair and a phone charger.

One aspect I particularly enjoy is the emphasis on the little mice's own instincts. They don't read books and ask people they are afraid of for their opinions, they just move and search.

Dramas and amnesia

Every day there is some sort of drama. But, the next day, I can barely remember what it was about, or indeed whether there was a drama. Sometimes I ask, 'what was I so het up about yesterday?'.

I may have mentioned this parent-of-a-teenager-amnesia before, I'm not sure, but it's worth mentioning again since it is such a helpful state to be in!

Am I the only one?

Elephant traps

That is the name I give to a simple conversation about something like the importance of Parliament or how Microsoft got its spots which imperceptibly goes wrong. T starts it, but I create the trap all by myself.

First I'm happily sharing my views which have taken decades to form, then I realise I am repeating myself and sounding rather middle-aged, and then I realise I am right inside an elephant trap!

What has happened is that T has been sharing his views and repeating them because they are strongly felt and new, and also because I don't seem to be quite getting his points.

So I giggle and start saying "yes, you are right, just so right, and I've just fallen into a parent of a teenager trap again". The mum is meant to say yes in an agreeable sort of way, happily nod when told that her views are simply wrong, and stay calm and jolly. This is not, not, not a conversation about the topic, it is an opportunity to listen and appreciate your young, smile and enjoy being totally in the wrong. It's cosy and warm in the wrong, get used to it!

It's more about being able to chat and be heard, have an opportunity to have a gentle rant (the way I have done many times and the children have heard me out patiently, ending with a gentle 'but so and so is an idiot' showing they totally agree with me about the iniquity of the universe).

Sometimes I stop and say "why are we arguing?".

This happens most days and I like it!

Work places

Because T is at work this week, I have been recalling all the different workplaces of my parents. I went to the tall NatWest tower, decades before the big bomb in the City, to various University of London departments, the Royal Institution, the Rheumatology Dept of the Middlesex Hospital etc etc.

Not only that, but I went to my aunt's workplaces plus my grandfather's and my grandmother's.

What about seeing the business of sewing, laying out the thin paper on the floor; the business of painting and carpentry and buying wood; seeing how petrol is siphoned by sucking it into a bucket; watching chicken being roasted and pastry made; hearing about selecting tenants; sorting out bread making and brewing (beer, wine, ginger beer); correcting the sea charts; hearing about PubMed before I had ever even seen the internet for myself; such a lot to see....and all this from a terraced house in the middle of London in the 70's, 80's and 90's.

Workbook crazy

I went to WH Smiths recently to get some revision books for T as he'd asked.

I came out with more than I had expected because there were some wonderful history books for teachers of primary years. I didn't think the topics were right for 5-7 year olds though, but I guess every teacher uses considerable discretion when WW1 comes up for example.

Then I was taken by some geography/science and history revision books. They just seemed so interesting I had to get them for myself. More of the eternal modelling the desired behaviour as I dive into wonderful topics which hadn't been invented when I was at school!

H must get quite bored with my bright conversation starters of 'Did you know...?' or 'Can this really be true...?' but he gives me a few seconds of attention. I'm happy with that.

For H

Since this week is all about T and his work experience, H and I have been having a quiet cat filled day. The cat comes in and out like a friendly yo-yo. Sometimes she is just furry and sometimes she is furry and rain covered.

To make things special I went out and bought H's favourite cake plus a spare for tomorrow too. Then I shared bits of information from a very easy to follow GCSE revision book on the American West. I have never studied this before, so I'm thrilled to be exploring such useful history.

Driving T to work

I am soooo proud. I drove T to work for the first time today and saw him shake hands with various people.

Since picking him up I have heard loads about how his day went. It sounds as if he is in his element. Big smile!!!!!

The shame.....

So there we were minding our own business, me guarding T from himself as he took photos of passing traffic in the drizzle. I'd parked my car down a side road, as you do.

As we walked back to the car a suspicious type imitating a security guard and clearly loitering to no good intent along some rather important railways tracks to our local power station waved at us to come over.

Blow me, he seems to think T might pose a terrorist threat. I start squeaking about all sorts of truly embarrassing stuff, while T chats in a relaxed way, giving both his names and showing the pics he took and volunteering to delete any this guy only minutes older than him might not like.

T gets full marks for cool and I am an embarrassment to nature and myself, I even announced which party I voted for, as if this ever helps parents of radicalised young souls.....

Anyway, I think the power station itself poses a terrorist threat to our town as without it there would be no chance of someone wanting to bomb Didcot. I feel like joining Greenpeace now just for the hell of it.