I forgot to mention that my jaunt to Sweden was cunningly timetabled so that I missed both the AS/A2 results *and* the GCSE results, which are always nail-biting occasions here on Planet Mad. Initial scanning of UK newspapers, though, suggest that - yet again - the percentage gaining the highest grades have risen at all levels and, although I have yet to discover if my kids buck the trend or not, the media hype surrounding this issue evokes all sorts of emotions. In any other industry, a lack of year-on-year productivity increases would lead to boardroom recriminations, new processes, restructuring, redundancies... An increasing number of exam passes, however, is automatically deemed to reflect easier exam papers, a less rigorous assessment system and pupils choosing easy subjects over hard ones in search of better results.

Not only does this attitude devalue the achievements of the pupils, but it also fails to take account of many other factors. One purpose of exams is to create a selection mechanism which enables employers/universities to choose between candidates. As more students participate in post-16 education, the number of people with A-levels increases, which in turn means that the A-level, as a qualification, is becoming less valuable for selection purposes. As a results, pupils are working harder, recognising the importance of good grades in the future.

Teachers are - in many schools - facing performance-related pay, in the guise of a higher pay-scale accessible only by meeting targets and passing through "The Threshold". It is only possible to assess the achievement of targets if pupil data is available, and there is now far more information available in schools to enable this setting of targets. This has also helped with early identification of those who are underperforming, again boosting grades.

The government judges schools as a whole by publishing league tables (which is another rant in its own right, and something I shall refrain from commenting upon here and now). The key factor assessed in league tables is the outcome of public examinations, and so - unsurprisingly - more emphasis has been placed upon exam success. On behalf of their school, teachers now spend hours each year analysing past exam papers and coaching their pupils in exam technique. Is this cheating the system? I think not. After all, in a driving test there are set manouveres to complete, and learner drivers spend hours practising three-point turns and parallel parking so that they are prepared for anything that may be asked of them. It's no different to A-level pupils practising multiple-choice technique or learning definitions.

Another cause of grade inflation is a result of a politicial decision to move from norm-referenced grading to criterion-referenced grading. Originally, your grade in exams depended on the achievement of the others in the cohort: effectively, the top 8% would get an A, the next 10% a B, and so on. Now, exams are based on criterion, with your grade reflecting the number of criteria hit, making it possible for everyone to pass if they do everything right. In a sense this is fairer - you are assessed on your own performance, rather than being penalised for being part of an able cohort - but it makes grade inflation far more likely.

It doesn't help that (almost) everyone has attended a school at some point and has taken public exams; they therefore feel entitled to comment upon the education of others, regardless of changes in the assessment system and the passing of time. That this is demoralising and infuriating - for both pupils and teachers - is unsurprising. There is no easy answer, partly because some of the causes of grade inflation lie deep within the educational policies adopted by the governments of the last 20 years. Credit where credit's due, methinks - well done to all who got results this summer.

Alopogies all round for the rather abrupt end to bloggage last week: I was caught out by the lack of internet access available across the seas. Sage advice regarding my final post arrived:

If u hate packing so much stop going away!

But going away is fun, and I don't get much opportunity during term time - I guess packing is the price that I have to pay. I've been loitering in Sweden for the last week, taking advantage of the sun to indulge in some sight-seeing (cultural), bike riding (wobbly) and swimming in the sea (bracing, but including the whole 'running and jumping off the end of the pier' thang, so fun too). On arriving home this evening, I note with amusement that my weekly horoscope reads

Your luck continues to hold out, especially if you are traveling abroad, or going on an adventure anywhere. Trips to interesting and challenging places and vacations to sun-kissed beaches are all well starred. So you can safely let the gypsy in your soul out for another chance to play. But as with all good things, it isn't going to last too much longer, in fact by next week this run of blissful pleasure will be replaced by an urge to get to work, so enjoy it while you can.

And so I shall - tomorrow I'm off camping in the Peaks for the weekend, then heading off to France on Tuesday for a few days sampling the local culture, returning just in time to start work again!

This week has provided much opportunity to spend time contemplating life, work, friendship, love and other such things. Whilst there are many things that could be said at this juncture, I think it's probably wiser to keep these thoughts to myself for now, leaving you instead with this:

Hi Mad, In a bored moment at work, I found your blog, and you're just as strange as I thought you were! TTFN Dave P

That's OK then - hi Dave!! :-)

I hate packing.

My computer is v-e-e-e-e-r-r-r-r-y-y-y-y-y s-s-s-s-s-l-l-l-l-o-o-o-o-o-w-w-w-w-w-w. Why isn't broadband available everywhere?!

Drununk. Whoops.

Things about the internet that make me smile...

Number 1: I primarily write this blog for myself - I know of some people who drop in (often because they send exciting messages via that there box o'er on the right) but I have no real idea who, when or how often. Occasionally I toy with the idea of site stats but always end up choosing ignorance over knowledge, knowing that I will continue to write regardless. It does, however, give me a small buzz of excitement when I see Planet Mad listed on other people's sites. It's almost a vote of confidence, and finding two such links in recent weeks leaves me feeling fine 'n' dandy.

Number 2: A.Word.A.Day's word for today is Madeleine, and spelt correctly too. I am happy to be associated with both cake and happy memories.

Number 3: The inappropriateness of computer assumptions. Following my experiences with blogspot's adverts, my Amazon book recommendations include several Rowling/Pratchett-type books, and then - lurking at the bottom of the page - is The Atkins Diet. Bwa-ha-ha... how little do they know?! ;-)

As a result of a little bet-ette (I *knew* that "enrichened" isn't a real word) I had today's lunch bought for me by my good friend Mark. This means that I have had no occasion to look for food until now. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a packet of bacon languishing in the fridge and a tub of Ben and Jerry's Cookie Dough icecream nestling at the back of the freezer. I am a happy lady. Or, at least, woman.

Arrrr, arrrrr, aaaa-harrrrrrr! Avaaaaast! Yo ho ho! Any port in a storm! Aaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!

(This blog entry was brought to you in conjunction with the Pirates of the Caribbean)

Home again, to be welcomed by a (still alive!) Fatso and 230 spam emails, which were gobbled up by my spam filter, thereby avoiding a nasty case of RSI caused by clicking the delete button.

I've spent much of the last week mooching, lounging, reading, chatting and getting small children soaked in water fights; these are all good things, and I feel far more normal (ahem) than I did before. I also had to fry about 150 sausages one evening: this was not such a good thing as it was a tad warm in the kitchen tent, but they *were* very tasty, so that was OK too. Mind you, my poor little brain cell is struggling from too many late nights - and the litre of port I consumed last night probably isn't helping - so I'm off to catch up on some sleep now. More tomorrow...

Ah bless. Last weekend these kids were on my camp; this weekend they've got it on the web! What a fast-paced society we live in!! :-)

Tried to bake, but got side-tracked by the smoked salmon and almond croissants. Result: no cake, but nice pasta and pudding. Hey ho - you win some, you lose some.

I feel that a long post is necessary to fill in the gaps about the past week and a bit, if only to indulge my desire to commit thoughts to paper (in a metaphorical sense). You have no obligation to read this. It's probably not funny or interesting, but I know that I will look back through my archives at some point, read this entry and have to wipe a speck of sentiment from my eye - after all, if you can't write for yourself, then you might as well give up.

Anyhooo...

GaSCiT: The hours of planning were obviously sufficient, and Amy's list-making paid off, as it all went smoothly and the kids had a great time. It felt very strange taking a back seat and leaving it to the sub-camp leaders when it had been *my* baby for so long - I even got to spend time sitting in the sun and reading the paper, which is not a normal occurance on camp! There were a couple of incidents (dealt with efficiently and causing no major problems) but from my side the only mishap was the sudden lack of voice... one morning it was there and by the afternoon it was gone! I spent a very peaceful couple of days looking for it again!! The kids left on Tuesday and their departure was marked with a BBQ and party, which saw me drinking lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and.... I'll leave it to you to fill the gaps, because I certainly can't! I'm finding it hard to write about the whole sheebang: it's been 2 years in the planning, and suddenly it's gone - just like that. Maybe more will come back to me as time passes; maybe it's just been blanked from my memory...?!

And then on to...

Guide county camp: Arrived Wednesday evening, complete with clean clothes and a slightly raspy voice. On Thursday I had to run the evening's campfire, so I spent much of the day conserving my voice, which meant another peaceful day for all around! Friday drifted past in a haze, and we'd finally got the Guides off to the evening disco and started packing when the security people came and evacuated us from our campsite - there was a gas leak! On arriving at the evacuation point, I was grabbed by the County Big Cheese who greeted me with the ominous question, "You can sing, can't you?" I then had to entertain the massed ranks of Brownies and Guides to distract them from the sight of fire engines arriving on site. I was quite upset by this, as I would have relished the opportunity to watch the firemen (phanar, phanar!). Hey ho. Instead I got to play with microphones and PA systems, slipping up only once when I asked people to move out of the way of the (rather pleasing eye-candy) disco lads as they got their kit off the stage. Sadly I forgot to say "the stage". Luckily, the Big Cheese laughed!

So there you go - eleven days, two camps, both wildly exciting to attend and probably very dull if you weren't there. Sorry. Tomorrow, Planet Mad moves to Bedford for yet another camp. It's going to be late next Sunday when I return, so more uninteresting updates then. (Bet that's really inspired you to return, eh?!)

Home: smelly and tired. Am off to rectify both of those things, so you'll just have to wait a while for the story of the emergency evacuation and my impression of Dame Vera Lynn entertaining the troops. Ho hum.

Am home (albeit briefly) from GaSCiT, and am pleased to report that the camp went well, the kids enjoyed themselves and the political minefield that was the committee managed not to go ka-boom. All I need now is some sleep and a couple of hangover pills to help me recover! I've got a huge feeling of satisfaction and a strong desire to buy some hand-held radios/walkie-talkie type efforts.

At present, my dirty clothes are being made clean and dry again, then they're being shoved straight back into the rucksack and I'm off on another camp. I'll be back on Saturday (and will be remain here for longer than 2 hours!) so will fill in more of the gaps later!

The piles are mounting up, and I hear there's a good cream available at the doctors.

Ah. Whooops. Um. Let me start that again...

The piles of equipment to be taken on camp tomorrow are mounting up, but it's taking up every available surface in my flat. I've printed out (most of) the documents I need to take with me, but I'm wishing that my desktop was a laptop, because I'm sure to have forgotten to print important things. I've got all the general equipment sorted, but I've still not thought about packing my personal kit. I'm feeling grouchy and even hot Ribena's not helping... it may well be something to do with the impending chore of packing everything into the car:

Hmm isn't the Madmobile's boot rather small I remember you saying once .... you could be having fun there! Caz

Indeed, and I suspect that this emotional roller-coaster's going to continue for the next few days, so I'd best be leaving you...

Over and out.

Tomorrow lunchtime I head off into the sunset. Metaphorically speaking, that is. Last-minute preparations have been going well, although I have yet to fit everything into the Madmobile, so there's still plenty of potential for tears before bedtime. I've also failed to pack my own stuff yet, so there's another little challenge to while away this evening's hours.

Also

Been scannin' any int'resting bits o' anatomy? Heh Heh.

Eeek. Frightening thought! Better go and lie down in a darkened room...

Today I have been mostly eating quiche and scanning things. Am amazed at how thin my wrists look from underneath and how brown my arms look when scanned. Little things, little minds...!!

I have a confession to make. This evening I scared Fatso so much that he sat in the corner and quivered for a good 5 minutes. It wasn't until I waved a slice of freshly-cut apple seductively under his nose that he moved. All I did was walk into the kitchen and he scuttled off as quickly as his stumpy little legs would carry him. Perhaps he was doing something dodgy and didn't want to be disturbed.

Maybe I should act on advice and get him laminated... at least then he'd be wipe-clean.

Much of today has been spent shopping. As a rule, I hate shopping, except when perusing the shelves looking for books, CDs or outdoors stuff (which - I suppose - says summat about me. I'm just not sure what.) Particular hates in the shopping line include never-ending searches for clothes, shoes and food. Today's shopping fell into the "food" category, but was, however, passibly exciting. I was responsible for buying approximately 2880 biscuits, 9kgs of split lentils and 75 litres of squash, among other things. Now that's what I call shopping!!

Long time, no write. Hope you're all well and bimbling along quite happily.

Life's all been a tad hectic here on Planet Mad, full of writing, filing, printing, collating, stapling, shopping, eating, drinking, mooching and watching films. Some of these have been very tough assignments. Luckily, I've been looked after by friends, who have at least ensured that I had help with the eating and drinking bits. Result? My summer diet's not going too well, but my appreciation of Thai food is far greater. After all, there is a price you have to pay for being well-informed in the culinary sense, and if that price happens to be a larger pair of jeans - so be it... I choose wisdom over skinniness any day!! :-) Now - believe it or not - off to a BBQ. Tarra!!

The Madmobile registered an outside temperature of 34 degrees C. It's a bit nippy out.

Another day of sun; another day lodged behind a computer. Ho de hum.

Conversation about my horoscope for today:

You're frustrated when you don't know things you should have mastered long ago.

Amy: Not learnt how to tie your shoe laces yet?!

Too much wine and not enough sense. More tomorrow. Mebbe.

Have been inspired by Ash's blog, and today I shall be mostly being a pirate. R.

Chicken rogan, medium spice: check.
Peshwari nan: check.
Bottle of wine: check.
Good company: check.
Spot on.

Kind of makes up for embarrassing sunburnt cheeks.

Yesterday's highlight: lying on top of a canoe on a lake in north Staffordshire, gazing at the sky and letting the water lap gently round my hands.

Today's highlight: a small Rainbow's comment, on being told that we had to wait for 2 Guides and a parent before setting off for home, "I wouldn't bring that parent again. I'd choose another one next time." From the mouths of babes and sucklings...

I now have a lust for curry.

Ah. Whoops. Caused some confusion earlier, I suspect, as this rather succinct mail made me realise:

WTF!

Some, however, recognised it. Hang your heads in shame!

Life is butter? Have you been scouting for boys again?

Ah. Busted. Also this

I passed all me exams....we can book a holiday. Also the 2nd line is melon caulifour melon cauliflour.

Congratulations, but not in my book it's not, and as this is my blog I shall post the version I want! So ner. :-)

For them what's still confuzzed, read it out loud, to the tune of Frere Jacques. Sorry.

Life is butter, life is butter
Cauliflower, cauliflower
Life is butter melon, life is butter melon
Cauliflower, caluliflower.

After a stiflingly muggy but overcast day (spent, you will no doubt be very surprised to hear, doing GaSCiT and Guide things) it's now raining - big fat plops of rain making the world seem alive once again. It's just right for a spot of naked dancing in the moonlight, (a la Toploader, or - going back to the original - King Harvest), but fear not, I am somehow resisting the temptation to remove my clothes. Instead, I'm going to eat pizza and drink beer, which are appealling because I suspect they will involve less effort than dancing nekkid. For those who had the misfortune to witness me dancing - avec clothes, I hasten to add - will appreciate quite how much energy the average Mad Dance uses up. Apart from the time that I spend lying on the floor laughing. Or in mid-air, on the way to the floor. Or curled up in the toilets, being looked after by a bloke who's declared himself an honorary woman for the night. If only I had the opportunity of more nights like that....

Caffeine hangover. Ouch.

Have over-done the whole "cup of tea" thing again. It's been 2 pots: about 7 cups' worth. I desperately want to go to bed, but my eyes won't let me, so I'm spending the time doing administration that - yet again - should have been done months ago. Gah.

I spent a decadently lazy lunch and afternoon in Derby, sitting in the sun with Mark. We did the quick crossword, got confused by the cryptic crossword so made up all the answers, and then got carried away writing silly captions on the pictures and adverts. Mental age: 6.

This evening's excitement was Division meeting, where I had to be growed up and sensible (in general). Mental age: 23.

I got out of the meeting to find a five minute answer phone message of more things to do for GaSCiT. Mental age: 69.

I hope this new hair colour covers grey hair, coz I'm bound to be several shades whiter after this summer!

Finished. Finally. Yawn. Why do I volunteer for these things? Am off to wash the word "mug" off my forehead.

It's a bloody consipracy - the health form disk's not working and I'm going to have to type the damn thing from scratch. Fuck and bollocks. There goes my chance of a early night, ho ho.

Ladies and gentlemen, Claire Thorpe has left the building. She arrived at about 6pm, to discuss GaSCiT stuff. Now - 6 hours 30 minutes later - she's gone. My head hurts and I still have a health form to write. Bah.

Whinge alert. Sorry. Have to get this out my system somewhere/somehow. Normal thoughtless whittering will be resumed as soon as possible.

Am snowed under with GaSCiT stuff. I'm being hassled to hand in equipment lists for the closing and opening ceremonies, neither of which I've even though about, let alone planned. I'm having problems with my printer and it won't print off the stuff I've already done. Someone's sent out a final version of the timetable that isn't up-to-date or accurate. I feel like I'm making no headway with my to-do list, with things being added faster than they're taken off. I know that it'll be fine, but I have to confess that I'm bloomin' scared about the whole shee-bang at the moment - the thought of being in charge of 140 kids, none of whom have camped before, is a tad daunting. The worry is so great it put me off my snooker last night, and Tony's most concerned that I'm ill because I even refused alcohol... YAAAARRGGGHHHHH.

Am going to spend the next couple of hours collating everything that I've done so far. If I drown in a sea of paper then so long, and thanks for all the fish.

We're into a motte-and-bailey castle phase at the moment. The height of the motte is, admittedly, restricted by the plastic shelf thing in the cage, but the addition of cotton-wool-type bedding is definitely something the Normans would have used, had they access to pet shops.

I've finally made it out of bed. Not, you understand, that I've been entirely asleep until now - in fact, I first woke at 9 when the sexy postman delivered this month's copy of Trail magazine. I lay in bed and read it from cover to cover, but then felt a tad sleepy again so had another nap. I then re-woke, read all of the Terry Pratchett book I randomly selected last night,* and then snoozed again. See - quite a morning of action... for my eyes, at least.

In other news today, Fatso's latest game is creating ancient earthworks and burial mounds from his bedding. Today we have a long ridge down the centre of his cage, and a fine veneer of sawdust covering a 1 metre radius. I like to think that it's because he's an educated chappy trying to re-enact historic moments. I just worry about the day when he decides to progress from the architecture of the Iron Age to the major constructions of the Roman Empire. After all, there's not exactly much room for him to build an aquaduct or even a humble hypocaust. The sooner BT get the telephone exchange here enabled for broadband the better - I've got to get the HamCam up and running!

* random selection involves turning out all of the lights, staggering across to the shelf containing the aforementioned books, running my hands along the spines to check I'm not inadvertently causing reading disappointment by choosing from the Harry Potter books nestling on the same shelf. I then grab one at random, usually pulling 4 other books down on top of me at the same time, and - because this is all happening in total darkness - risk long-term damage to my bare feet in the process. It adds to the excitment, anyway.

Once more, my email to a friend has been rejected by her company's spam filter. All I did was sign it "love mad xxx", as I always do. You'd think I'd learn. Seemingly not...

It's been a bizarre evening. It started quite, quite innocently, but I ended up in the Legion at midnight slow-dancing with Tony. Hmmm. Tony is my snooker partner: he's lovely and funny, but he's also in his late 50s, a chain smoking divorcee who was wearing a particularly dodgy tie tonight. Luckily it wasn't proper slow-dancing, given that I was laughing fit to burst and I don't think I'd be able to slow-dance seriously if you paid me, but it was enough to entertain the hoards crammed into the Legion. I was kisssed by 3 different blokes on my way out... maybe I'm getting a reputation. If only it were built on true foundations... chances of a snog (with someone decent!) never looked more remote. Hey ho. Off to bed now to contemplate life...

New hair, new colour. A permanent momento of the hair colour is currently developing on the bathroom walls, where the manky, inherited, wipe-clean, grim, shiny, green paint* is not actually wipe clean when it comes to hair dye. At least the bright red spots add some character, and neatly match the streak along the bottom of the curtain. Whoops.

* Can you tell I don't like it?!

Another evening of culcha has drifted passed here on Planet Mad. Actually, "drifted" may be the wrong word - "roared, guffawed and cried" may be far more accurate. The discovery, earlier this week, of my thigh muscles has now been matched by the exciting realisation that I once again have stomach muscles. At least, I *must* have stomach muscles, because they're bloody aching from laughing so much. And what caused such hilarity? Why, I'll tell you - the National Theatre's production of Noises Off as seen at the Birmingham Rep. If you get the chance, go and see it. Sod it, even if you have to bunk off work and blag your way in to the theatre, go and see it. Go on - what are you waiting for? Stop reading this rubbish - GO.

Today's paperwork frenzy segued neatly into this evening's Guide district meeting; both were productive but have added many more items to my To Do list, which now includes entries such as "first aid course" "inspection guidance" and (perhaps more bizarrely) "find a launderette in Cannock". In an attempt to avoid confusion in this over-stretched little braincell of mine, I created an hour-by-hour guide to the next three weeks which is now blu-tacked in all its glory to the wall: I've discovered many double-bookings but also reclaimed some free time. Sadly, it's probably not at a time when anyone else is free, but if anyone *is* at a loose end on Sunday and fancies doing something exciting then let me know!

Today I shall be mostly doing paperwork for GaSCiT. The prospect fills me with joy and pleasure (ahem), as does the thought of having to trawl through the 30 un-read emails that arrived in my inbox this weekend. It's a thrilling one today - I almost want to be back in the classroom!! :-)

Firstly, I'd like to offer a hearty welcome to my thigh muscles, which have been sadly absent for some time but now make a happy return to Planet Mad, accompanied by an improvement in general fitness and some slightly dodgy tan lines (of which, more, possibly, later, if I can be bothered, and don't fall asleep dribbling into the keyboard first)

Supervising this weekend's Duke of Edinbugh expedition was very similar to supervising any other expedition in the history of expeditions - a bit of sun, a lot of rain, much waiting around for groups who "mislaid" the correct path, and plenty of kids failing to follow advice, such as packing their kit in plastic bags. Hence, Mad spends much of her Monday night watching girls dry their sleeping bags under the hand-drier in the ladies' toilet, knowing perfectly well that she has a warm, dry and comfy sleeping bag waiting in her tent. Mua-ha-ha! I was, however, lucky enough to be located in a most lovely campsite at the foot of Gordale Scar (near Malham in the Yorkshire Dales, for them wot knows their geography!) and was able to lie in bed looking out on countless geographical formations, which was far more exciting than my usual lying-in-bed view! I did a fair bit of walking too, yomping out over hill and dale, which gave me a perfect opportunity to think, day-dream and otherwise get my brain-cell in order, which may be dangerous. I'll keep you updated. Hmm. Actually, I might not - some things should be kept sacrosanct. That'll keep you guessing...

I spent much of this afternoon doing a credible impression of a nagging old bag in an attempt to get the kids sorted, packed and ready for the end of term. This evening, however, has sailed by in a whirl of drinks, food, speeches, presents and discussion disguised as general social chit-chat. There were numerous moments of hilarity, not least the description of this organ as the bastion of internetness and the expression on some boys' faces as I failed to become girlie-scared of a frog that they put on my shoulder.

Slightly less hilarious, though, is the fact that I leave for D of E in under 9 hours' time, and I still haven't packed. Ah. Will not be online for a few days; until Tuesday, over and out....

[P.S. Tom J - the gubbins you wanted is here]

Am slightly squinty-eyed and weary this morning, but have made it so far without serious mishap. Unfortunately, tonight sees the end-of-term dinner and party, so it's another "posh frock, late night" affair... no early night for me! Chances of a mid-afternoon snooze are looking slender too - I've still got to pack for D of E before tonight's out. Sometimes I long for a normal job!

Have laughed so much this evening my head hurts. It's been the leavers' BBQ for the House, and it's all been very cool - a few burgers, a few more beers and lots of memories, smiles and tears.

Cheers, Si, for the advice about which version of blogger to use - am off to try it now (blogging whilst drunk - dontcha love it?! At least I'm not flexing my plastic in the direction of Amazon!)

New blogger, new problems. How do I get out of the LoFi version? I can do it at work but not here at home. If only I weren't a luddite...

Things from last night that made me chortle, giggle or otherwise smirk...

* Parking a minibus (with 'Repton School' emblazened down its side) in a carpark opposite two of Birmingham's most popular gay bars.

* One of our most studious pupils saying to me, "Are you actually a proper teacher?" On replying in the affirmative, she said, "Oh well - I just wasn't sure because of the whole pints and jeans thing!" Mua-ha-ha - my disguise is working!

There were other things too, but I can't remember them. I have, however, just taught a magnificent end-of-term lesson about Critical Path Analysis (which is like glorified flow charts, for those lucky enough not to have encountered them before!). I got the kids to work in pairs to plan their preparations for a night out on the lash and to calculate at what time they should start getting ready if the taxi leaves at 8.00pm. I haven't laughed so much in ages!

Am off to be cultured this evening. Well, semi-cultured - we're taking the upper sixth to watch Miss Saigon in Brum, so am freshly scrubbed up (in a dress, no less!) and trying to look smart... have even had to abandon the beloved docs in favour of heels :-) Enjoy yourselves...

Woke this morning with a manky cold. I know exactly who's to blame. I'm sending Harry Potter style curses and jinxes in his direction as I type. Bleurgh!

Paj's brain obviously helped with the music round, as I managed to con them into a false sense of security with the first couple of tunes (they all sang along - bless!) but then I did the nasty deed and threw in some really familiar but obscure choons to catch 'em all out - Royksopp left them all going, "I know this but I don't know who it's by!" The job's a good 'un!

Am trying to write a music round for this evening's junior pub quiz, but am struggling to find music in my CD collection that they a) might have heard of, and b) won't be rude about. I therefore appreciate this, which arrived in relation to my previous post...

Here, use mine: I'm not using it! --paj

Ta muchly!

My brain cell hurts.

You can tell the deadline for reports is approaching fast because of the number of teachers gathered in/near the staff room at 9.00pm on a Monday evening, frantically trying to find the list of pupils in need of duplicate reports and chuntering that the school's database is not up-to-date. This time, however, I have spurned technology, and instead I've written my reports using my bestest handwriting, with the tip of my tongue stuck out the corner of my mouth to aid concentration. This has worked very well except now I have an aching arm and a large dent in my finger. Bah.

Someone (not sure who, but obviously someone with taste!) writes:

Yes you should be *very* sorry for that one

referring, I think, to my own inimitable style of song-writing! :-)

This morning's bloggage comes with apologies to The Mamas and The Papas:

Monday, Monday, so good to me
Monday mornin', it was all I hoped it would be
On Monday mornin', kids were yawning, just like me
Thank goodness this term ends on Fri-dee!!

Burger overload. Whoops.

Have been a tad busy this weekend, both getting out-and-about and staying in. I've been doing a bit of reading - 766 pages in fact, which nicely occupied my Sunday afternoon. Off for another BBQ now.

Today's good things...
...the sun, a jacket potato with prawn mayo, canoeing with Guides, a party.

Things to look forward to this weekend...
...seeing friends, a curry, a BBQ, the arrival of the next Harry Potter book.

Sadly this weekend will also play host to report writing, which is a bit of a blow, but as I finish for the summer in 7 days' time (mua-ha-ha!!) I couldn't really care less!!

(Apologies are offered to those who do not start their holiday in the next week, but do not fret - I'm back in work in... oh... a couple of months' time! Bdoing!!)

This evening has been the usual cornucopia of events, ranging from "posh frock and champagne" to "pint in the pub", meandering via "TV with the juniors" and "reassuring a parent in teacher-on-duty-stylee": Repton in a microcosm. Had hoped to speak to a couple of people tonight, but - also typical for an evening in Repton - there just wasn't the time or opportunity. Maybe tomorrow?

Trying to get my head round that simultaneously equal ops and old fashioned sexist notion. That child should go far. - Si

Yup - he's quite typical of my pupils: vaguely aware but slightly confused! (The state of the education system today - I blame the teacher myself!)

He lives!!!

You might be somewhat pink (15th of June) - try being totally pink! Love Pinky

Welcome back, old bean!

The fun and games of exam marking continues apace, with the following classics being gently revealed to the sunlight:

"The company could then do some interviews with the people they are interested in. How beautiful these people are is very important as they have to work on flights as cabin crew."

"The gender [of the applicants] is not of big importance except for the pilot. I would recommend him to be a man because if the woman gets pregnant thousands of pounds will be lost as she gets a long holiday."

We've got a little explaining to do next lesson, methinks!

Am marking A-block exams to the accompaniment of Shirley Bassey, the goddess of big hair and big voices. The exam scripts are full of the subtleties which are an intrinsic part being a 14 or 15 year old: "if people come for interview and you don't like them you just say goodbye; you can dismiss them on their spelling and gramma (sic); you can interview them to check their punctuation" (although I think he meant "punctuality"!). It's a good job that I have such classic choons playing in the background to keep me sane. Unfortunately I'm also singing along (in typical Mad style, which is neither shy nor retiring by any stretch of the imagination) so poor Fatso is cowering in the corner with his paws over his ears. Just be thankful that this isn't an audio-blog!! :-)

Which brings me neatly to my next comment

Mad, are you in your prime? Miss Jean Broady certainly is!

It depends how one defines prime, I suspect; some of my pupils would assert that I am well past it.

Sage advice arrives:

add more milk then

Would that I were so blessed with common sense.

It's raining and my tea is too hot to drink.

Another evening has drifted past, trailing a haze of fine wine and good food behind it. Although not on the same scale as last week's pudding party, tonight's gathering has also been food-focused: this time featuring a collation of starters and nibbles. I am, therefore, feeling a tad full but very relaxed; in the laid-back stakes I'd be verging on the horizontal.

This suggestion arrived with reference (I think!) to my earlier post,

Do you not have any brothers or sisters to oblige?

Mua-ha-ha! You've obviously not met my brother!!

My eyes are crying even though my heart is smiling and I potted a beautiful blue in tonight's snooker match. Have got to wander the House now doing lock-up and will look like a real freak. Gah!

Hurrah!

Mad I'll do your dirty work although you may have to wait a while, anyhow whats wrong with you having your own kids, your perfect with kids, just on your level...

No. No. No. And again, No. There will be no ickle K's for you to Auntie. Find someone else to do your dirty work!

That's me told, then!

You know in children's paintings the ground is a green stripe along the bottom of the page, while the sky is a blue stripe at the top of the page? Well, what's the white gap in between? Easy - that's space.

Logic, child style. Am considering regressing: life would be a lot simpler.

Things I realised this weekend:

1. I am somewhat pink. Actually, that's an understatement: I am BLOOMIN' PINK. I'm continuously rubbing moisturiser into my shoulders/arms, which is making typing sticky and somewhat difficult, but that's the price you have to pay if you forget to pack suncream when you go away for a sunny weekend. Hey ho.

2. I am getting old. Once upon a time, I'd turn up to Scout camp with a four-pack/eight-pack/twelve-pack of bitter (depending whether I was just visiting for an hour or actually stopping over night). When I started going to SSAGO rallies I met the charming K, who introduced me to the delights of port drank stright from the bottle. Now, however, the beverage of choice is wine, which suggests that I'm far too growed up for my own good. Better get that sorted before this summer's round of residential events gets underway! (Mind you, I'm not old yet enough to keep a corkscrew in the car, so it's a good job that there were other, even more mature people on camp too!)

3. I'm quite fond of children. I know that this should be a bit obvious, being a teacher and Guide leader and all, but at times this weekend I felt vaguely clucky and maternal. Out of this weekend's revelations, this is possibly the most scary. After all, I will go brown very quickly (provided I keep up the applications of gunk-stuff) and can easily swap back from wine to bitter, but this whole kid mallarky is tad too close for comfort. So here's a plea for any of you couples out there: please have children quickly so I can satisfy my cluckiness being Auntie Mad, otherwise my mother's gonna be very shocked when I turn up for Christmas wearing much bigger clothes than usual.

Challenge of the day: packing 4 season sleeping bag into stuff sack and deciding whether to wear trousers or shorts. Am off to a service weekend on a campsite up near Manchester, the sun is shining, the birds are singing and it's all looking kinda peachy.

Spooky, eh?! Doo-de-doo-dooooo!!* Am counting the days 'til number 5 arrives.

* The theme from the Twilight Zone, in case you didn't recognise it.

Happy? The sun's shining, music's drifting gently out of the speakers and a I've got a big pile of paperwork to do. Well - two out of three's not bad.

This term Madeleine has shown a lack of concern about her progress, too often choosing to leave work until the last possible moment. This means that tasks are often completed under pressure, leading to sloppy mistakes that could be avoided by simple forethought and time management. Her lack of personal organisation also manifests itself in mislaid papers, keys, wallets and anything else important. She will never be successful in life unless she learns to master day-to-day organisation.

Yaargh! Too many reports!! Too much tea!!! And as for the number of exclamation marks....!!!!!!!!

All done now though... my bed's calling.

Today:
Time spent teaching - 2 lessons
Time spent faffing - 3 lessons
Time spent writing reports - none. Whoops.

Today I shall be mostly writing reports.

Smiles all round for the following reasons:
1. The new CDs are great (the ones that I've listened to!)
2. I dropped into Brownies and they were having a great time.
3. There's a big slice of pavlova left in the fridge with my name on it.

Amazon delivers, Mad smiles and turns up the stereo. 'Sgoing OK so far...

As a direct result of last night, I can firmly state the following:

If I were an essential food group, I'd be lipids.

If I were an album, I'd be The Fat of the Land.

If I were a fish, I'd be a bloater.

Tonight I played host to a pudding party. Puddings on offer included a baked cheesecake, Eton mess, a roly pavlova, a fresh fruit salad, fresh strawberries, sticky toffee pudding, ginger biscuits, mini-muffins and chocolate cake, accompanied by single cream, double cream and natural yoghurt. Understandably I'm feeling a tad stuffed, but on the positive side I will be able to roll to work tomorrow rather than having to walk.

Yesterday's advice to a sixth form girl regarding university prompts responses, both from her ("Miss, I've had a great day, Grey was great and the city was fab and the cathedral was just fantastic" - that's another convert to the joys of the north east then...!) and from Mal:

Grey College in "sound" reputation shocker! Just make sure the lass doesn't fall into the Grey habit of not getting out enough - I never did see the inside of Castle! Or Cuth's. Or Chad's. But then, they were full of rahs. :) ...Mal (also now wallowing in nostalgia) :)

The other thought from Planet Mad that provoked response was the dodgy quiz (initially found on Helm's Deeper):

Don't believe Caz! She's got a little sister, and she claims she's NEVER punched anybody? Yeah, right. Tom

Which speaks for itself, really, as does this:

While I'm on, here's my score: Years in prison: 13 Potential fine: 7000. Woohoo! Porridge, here we come. - Mal. :)

Which is impressive as no-one else has broken through the £2000 fine barrier; not even me, in all my depravity.

One of the most important issues for the majority of sixth formers is university, and they are full of questions about it. One of the hardest things that teachers have to do is answer those questions. I, like many others, look back on my undergraduate days with a certain nostalgia, with an enthusiasm that's probably verging on the fanatic; to have to take one step back and advise others objectively becomes very difficult. It's even worse when faced with questions about Durham in particular, because it's not just questions about the university but also about colleges. After all, my opinons are prejudiced by my educational background, by the attitudes of my friends at Durham and by my abhorrance of rahs with too much money and not enough sense. Many's the time that I've started the sentence "Well - Hatfield's just full of public school kids with lots of money..." and then realised that I'm talking to - yup, you guessed it - public school kids with lots of money. You can see the flaw in THAT argument.

Anyhow, one of my lower sixth is going to Durham for the day tomorrow for a visit to the modern languages department and an informal tour round Grey College (recommended to her as "sound" based on my experience!!) and she came round to ask me for a map. I got into cartographer mode and was a tad carried away with detail, marking my sketch map with shops, pubs, cafes and the occasional landmark (there are, after all, one or two knocking about the place). As she left, she said, "I can see that I'm going to fall in love with Durham," and it made me realise how much influence I'd exerted without even meaning to. I'm not sure I can handle such responsibilty: what happens if she hates it?

Caz writes:

On the dodgy test I have 0 years in prison and 0 fine ....always good to know!

and Amy's not doing much better:

Years in prison: 5 Potential fine: £2000

I'd better not reveal the length of my prison sentence in the light of these results...

Am very bemused: the Laundry Fairy must have visited during the night, for I discovered a load of clean clothes flopping gently round the tumble-drier this morning that I wasn't even aware of having washed. Have to admit, though, that bemusement is not to be mistaken for disapproval... maybe this might be a good Monday after all!

On another note: try this and let me know how you got on.

It's been a remarkably laid-back weekend, helped along by good company, nice food and some decent pints. I spent last night with Charlotte and Dave (from SSAGO) on their canal boat, then pootled back this morning, lounged this afternoon and am now contemplating curling up with my phone and a good book. Hot damn, my life really is thrill-a-minute!

Real excitement, however, comes on the hamster front. The original Fatso (who was uber-cute but died last summer after a tragic hit'n'run accident with a chest of drawers) used to create hours of entertainment by hanging upside down from the bars of his cage, in SAS-hamster stylee. Try as I might, I could never persuade Fatso #2 (the current mini-kiev-in-training) that he should do the same thing; no matter how much food I "accidentally" left on the top of the cage he would never swing himself up to liberate it. Now, however, he has seen the error of his ways and is - as I write - doing a credible "sloth on speed" impression. It's at times like this that I wish I had a web-cam and broadband to send real-time pictures from the HamsterCam. Instead, you'll just have to imagine it, but I assure you, it's bloody funny.

Fantastic discoveries of my day (part the third and final)
Roast potates, crunchy on the outside but meltingly soft and squidgy on the inside.

Fantastic discoveries of my day (part the second)
A copy of a Simpsons video lurking at the back of a drawer in my desk, which was duly watched and appreciated by one of my economics sets (suffering from a 3 hour economics exam in the morning then a double economics lesson in the afternoon... sometimes you can have too much of a good thing. And of economics, of course)

Fantastic discoveries of my day (part the first, in order of importance)

• Croissants and pan au chocolat for breakfast (well - it made *me* happy!)
• The school's web-filter-thingamy-annoying-whatsit does not seem to be switched on. Or, at least, it's not being used today here in the school's spod centre. I have an evil urge to search for lots of porn, just because I can. That said, it's probably monitoring what I'm typing and will be automatically linking to the Bursar's office to deliver a P45 to my pigeon-hole by the end of break time.
• Squinting at myself in the mirror revealled that I didn't need to do anything to my hair this morning. Sadly, opening my eyes properly revealled the need for wax. C'est la vie.

As you can see, life here on Planet Mad is a tad slow. Besides, it's the Economics AS exam today, and they're all there scribbling away with a glazed look of fear in their eyes and curses on their lips, and I need something to distract me from the thought that their curses are aimed at me.

Ooooh noooo!!! Late night internet shopping strikes again and my postman will once again be complaining of a hernia in a few days' time. Off to re-arrange the CD collection to make space for the new arrivals...

"Mad," said Kate, "You're not fat at all, you've just got very large breasts." Well, that's MY secret let out to the world (although not literally, you'll be relieved to hear!)

The end of term approaches slowly, bobbing away on the horizon over there, and the end of term means reports. For every child. Normally, reports are written at 2am the night before the deadline, fuelled by chocolate ginger nuts and copious quantities of tea. This time, however, I decided that I'd try being organised instead. Admittedly, I missed the upper sixth deadline, but as I only teach 4 upper sixth I wasn't too distressed about that. The next deadline is Monday coming for O Block reports (which is year 11 in real speak, or 5th year in old money!) and I am very concerned for the simple reason that I've written them. All. I have a reputation to keep up, folks, and it's just been blown clean out of the water. How am I going to persuade people that I'm ineffective and unreliable now? Pah!

(It has to be said, though, that I feel good about it, and far less stressed than I usually do when writing reports, so perhaps it's no bad thing. Hmmm.)

This evening's good bits: spoke to Hugh, who phoned from Sweden; wrote some reports that aren't due in for simply AGES; played some very credible snooker; am now sitting blogging and eating Nutella out of the jar (grim I know, but one of my little pecadillos - sorry). Maybe the Good Luck Fairy is smiling down on Planet Mad. I'm sure the Bad Luck Chicken is lurking round the corner though, so don't feel too jealous.

Yikes!

I saw your double in town at lunchtime and IT FREAKED ME OUT!

'Twasn't me, honest. I do, however, sincerely apologise for any inconvenience or trauma caused. The thought of some poor innocent stranger having to look like me is more than I can bear... I'm off for a nap. Or perhaps to write some reports. Difficult decisions of our time #375.

The exam was OK - just one economics paper and 2 GCSE exams to go, then I can put the valium aside for another year!

In response to my amazingly poor performance in the Geek test earlier this week, this lil' thought drifted in from the ether...

Just remember this... geek = chic, nerd = turd :)

Thanks for that useful little maxim for life; it may help to get me through many a sleepless night.

I was presented with my district commissioner badge at the Guide AGM tonight: obviously my arse has reached the required size for such a responsible position. Next thing you know it'll be navy-blue granny pants, jogging bottoms you could use to hide a small elephant and "hello" to a house/car full of Guiding junk. Ah. I've got that last one already. Maybe I'm closer to being a county commssioner than I realised!!

After that somewhat stream of consciousness blog, I'm off. Tarra!

AS Business Studies exam today: am very nervous, even though I'm not sitting it. In fact, I'd be less nervous if I was sitting it, because then at least I could have controlled how much revision took place. Even worse, I have to invigilate the exam later on, which means that I have to sit and watch them all slaving away without being able to help. Exam term is a tough time of year for all involved.

Repton has seen its share of water fights this weekend. They looked like they were a lot of fun. I am sorely upset that I've not been able to join in. Such are the pains, trials and tribulations of being all growed up and responsible. No, don't look disbelieving - I *am*. Or at least, I had to be this weekend. Now, however, I'm back to being an irresponsible, care-free lil' young thing.

If only.