First up, cucumbers:

1 cucumber should serve 15 people, according to camp catering experts!! Love CMT

And she's a woman who'd know! It's probably a good job then that the other 14 people weren't very hungry. Moving swiftly on...

Good idea on the jelly babies, something good to use as I am starting a PGCE specialising in that dreaded subject on Monday.

That comment there from Martin, I do believe. Good luck! I had really mixed feeling about my PGCE, but it all came in useful eventually, as will this:

1.2.3.4.5

when I come to cover maths lessons for absent colleagues. Talking of teaching, better go and do some!

So many things to write about, such little time...

School continues apace. My interview for the dyslexia course is on Monday afternoon; my lessons have been moderately well planned; most marking has been completed and returned on time. All in all, it's not going too badly. This year's main change has been the introduction of tutorial time, where tutors can meet with their tutees to monitor academic progress and encourage the wee ones to develop good study skills. Somehow, during the summer holidays, someone decided that this tutor time could also be used to deliver citizenship, which is the government's latest attempt to produce teenagers who know something about the world in which they live.

(Herein lies the opportunity to zoom off down a tangent to whitter on about the increasing pressures of examinations/league tables forcing teachers to stick far more closely to the exam syllabi and therefore ignore the wider aspects of education that people got in the good old days, but I'll restrain myself. For once.)

The topics we have to cover range from the environment to refugees, calling at parliament and voting en route. The only training we have been given for this is a folder of various resources, plus access to some videos and textbooks. I'm lucky: my tutees are girls, they're malleable, and they're going to try their hardest in the weekly session (if only because I live with them and they've seen what I'm like when I get irate!). However, the last thing they want is another didactic, chalk'n'talk lesson inflicted upon them, so I'm currently spending a lot of time deciding how to make our sessions on government and the cabinet more interesting. So far, I've decided that we're going to make cocktail stick puppets of the cabinet (using photos downloaded from the net) and then re-enact key parliamentary debates using haribo and jelly babies. I know that I can then spin this into a "how many jelly babies can you eat?" competition whilst I run a plenary session recapping the key educational points (which is always a useful skill if you can do it) but how do I ensure that the kids realise that not all politicians are small, rounded and made of gelatine?!

Guides started back unofficially last week, but we didn't get the full complement until tonight. It's probably a good job that we had a gentle easing into the term: we have 5 new girls, plus all of them bar one from last year - it was a tad manic! That said, there was a real buzz about them as they planned this half term's programme - if they can keep this up all term it's going to be a real pleasure. Even the naughty ones weren't as naughty as last year: maybe they're eventually growing up!

Other news - my friend discovered today that she's going to have a baby boy early next year, and she's obviously hormonal and delusional enough to be tricked into thinking that I'm sound enough to be morally responsible for her child. This means that I'm going to be his godmother - how scary! For a time I was hoping that I could be the wicked godmother, but then I realised that the role is actully the wicked stepmother, which wasn't what I was planning; seems I'll have to dust off the fairy wings instead. Pah. Just so long as I can wear them with my docs I'll be ok!

Finally, the Boy (for those who were wondering): all good. :-) (I can't write any more for fear that it will cause spontaneous vomiting, which is never good for one's computer keyboard. Be thankful!)

There's one thing worse than having to catch a spider in a glass and remove it from your bath, and that's realising that you forgot to wash the glass before filling it with Ribena.

I thought it tasted stringy.

Simpering and handshaking never got a look-in tonight as I did my duty rounds, because it's the dreaded UCAS Personal Statement time of year. The kids get a limit of 47 lines of type (or that's what they seemed to remember that they had, based on their very vague memories of a VERY IMPORTANT meeting about such things, which took place all of 24 hours ago. But hey, such is life) One girl has written too much, another too little: my job is to prune, encourage and basically bonsai their rambling into something succinct but memorable. Given my tendancy to waffle on in a circumwobbulating sort of way, this is a tad ironic. (Ms Bennett, my English teacher, would be proud to note that I have resisted the temptation to use the adjective "ironical". I tried for a long time to persuade her that it really was a word. Alas, unbeknownst to me, she and Mr Chambers were in collaboration and she used a specially-doctored dictionary to prove me wrong. Gah!) (However, she would be most displeased to note the use of 'circumwobbulating', which is a word that must be used with extreme caution: don't try this at home, children!)

Anyway, moving swifly onwards.

Except I can't: my brain appears to have exploded. All I seem to be able to write is trite phrases about my enduring passion for all of my A-level subjects and my desire to read some extremely relevant subject - such as toe-nail curling for beginners - at university. Better go and make some tea to help me recover.

This year I'm hoping to take a diploma course about teaching dyslexic pupils - it's all part of my master-plan to develop new skills but stay in the classroom, rather than having to face the stress and faff of being a middle manager. I emailed my CV and application letter this morning; I've now been called for interview. I'm scared! I reckon that I'll have to use my usual technique of flippant answers and blase attitude - after all, it got me my job here (when I told the deputy head that my only experience of boarding school was reading Enid Blytyon's Mallory Towers series - whoops!). Off to work on my simpering smile and polite handshake...

you can never eat too much cucumber! It's my preferred PH late night nibble .. besides its about 90% water! Caz

All of this bodes well: after all, I did consume an entire cucumber, which I worried might be a tad excessive. Phew!

Is there a recommended maximum amount of cucumber that should be eaten in one sitting? If so, I think I've just exceeded it. Whoops.

So, which were better: mushrooms bathed in melted butter? Or mushrooms bathed in bed?

Mushroom bed-baths are always a mistake: they splash so much that it makes a real mess of the sheets. Butter's the way to go, and very tasty they were too!

This afternoon, I shall be mostly looking for D of E campsites in the White Peak near to Chatsworth. Thrilling, eh?!

Off now to eat mushrooms bathed in melted butter. Then bed. Sleep well.

String orchestra this evening: the first time I've opened my viola case since tour to Italy in July. My fingers don't know what's hit them, nor do my strings, which had to be hiked up by about three-quarters of a tone. Whoops!

Yesterday I got to leave the delights of the House, the school and the school disco behind me, and headed off to the wide open countryside to join friends on a canalboat. It was lovely and, even better, I was able to return home with some muffins, a present and a man: all good things (certainly in my eyes).

Today has been teaching (on and off) plus netball - twenty minutes of running around and I'm a tad on the worn-out side. Mind you, this time last year, I only managed 5 minutes, so I reckon that's not bad going.

After lunch, I thought I'd have a five minute lie down. I've only just woken up. Hurrah for siestas!

This morning malarky is more than I can cope with. Not even succulent, juicy nectarines can make up for my tiredness. Hey ho. Off to put on my happy face, then to teach.

This afternoon's work was good too, as was this evening's Guides. Now, however, my brain cell's reached saturation point again, not helped by my unwitting involvement in a game of text consequences. At least I can sleep tomorrow afternoon!

Why is it that now I have the option to set up a gmail account (ta Mally) I can't think of anything amusing to have as my email name? Pah!!

hurrah! You're back - and I'm kinda working. .. or would be if this ***** computer had radio access. mutter mutter Charl

That, ladies and gentlemen, is the sound of a woman writing a dissertation. Be alert to this phenomenon: if you see manic looking women loitering in libraries muttering under their breath then go up and make polite conversation, throw books at them, or at least offer them your body - they're only seeking distraction from their academic studies. :-)

School has been great today - hurrah for work! Off now to eat something healthy for lunch...

It's just gone 10.30pm and my braincell's finally gone on strike. I was told today that I need to send a CV and covering letter to apply for a course that I want to do; I've been trying in vain to write it all day. I suspect I'm going to have to give up now or it will just get too cheesy to believe. Hey ho, off to the land of pillows, duvets and starfish-sleeping. G'night.

Start of term nerves - restless sleep, momentary panics, outbreaks of the biggest spots ever seen on one person - hits me every time. This is my eighteenth start of term as a proper teacher and it's still not getting any better. What's making it worse is the realisation that I am just about to start my fourth year at this school: I've been here longer than I was at university. I feel old. At the same time, I feel very excited, and I can't wait to get back to the chalkface (as it were). I suspect I'll sleep soundly tonight!

I've not even taught any lessons so far, but already my kitchen table looks like this:

Eeeek!!

We now have all the new first years and new lower sixth in school, along with various prefects and juniors who have been helping to unload cars and show parents through to the tea and coffee. It's bringing back memories of going off to university, and the worries caused by a new routine. I didn't cope very well with meeting with parents last year, but this year I've been far more relaxed: I'm working on the principle that these people are going to realise soon enough that I'm a nutter, so they might as well discover it now!