Things are afoot. Well, some are 11 inches, and some are thirteen inches, but overall it equals about a foot. There are too many things to write about in terms of school, but there is no doubt that a P45 would be waiting in my pigeon-hole should I say what I really think. Wedding things plod onwards. Gardening is in stasis between digging and planting. Guides is good. Nowt else, really.

We've been out for a curry - first line of defence in fighting off the lurgy - and went for a pint afterwards. On getting back to the boarding house, I wandered off to see what was happening, and found Julia watching Desparate Housewives. My head hurts now, after watching just five minutes' worth of programme: the number of mind-games going on was too much for me to cope with. Obviously coriander, bitter and snide comments don't mix!

There's a lurgy going round school. The kids are dropping like flies, and the whole thing is exacerbated by the fact that they learn, eat and live together. As is, I suppose, inevitable, I have also succombed to the sickness, although I'm fighting it off with a tissue stuck to my nose and eating meals laced with chili and garlic. I may not be able to smell it, but I suspect it's slightly pongy. The half-term holiday starts in three days' time... it will be just typical if I'm ill for it!

Last night we went to Julia's for dinner, and ended up playing poker, complete with plastic chips and an instruction sheet. Either I've discovered a card game that I can actually play, or I had beginner's luck, but either way I got second place (beaten only by The Boy Wonder). We didn't play for money, but there was a prize each, with the first place player getting first choice of the wrapped presents... and my prize was a battenburg cake! Hurrah! Marzipanny-goodness!!

Today was spent mooching in the garden - I found a frog hibernating in the compost heap and pulled some weeds - and then spent the afternoon geeking, watching Hugh on DVD (pig in a day: porky goodness), and perusing ebay for bargins that I never knew I needed.

There's a week of school left before half-term, and I'm really ready for a break. Just a few reports to write, some lessons to teach, one more netball match, some essays to mark, and then I'll be able to sleep for a week. Not that I'm counting the days, of course...

This day in 2001 I was interviewed for my current job. The deadline had been the previous Friday, references were requested on Saturday, sent off on Monday and I was phoned up on the Tuesday and asked to interview. Tuesday night I had to flee to Next in Darlington to buy a suit, a handbag and some smart shoes.

I can remember quite a bit about the interview - it was very informal, and most of it was conducted as part of a walking tour of school with various senior mangagers. I can remember telling one lady manager that my only experience of independent schools was reading Mallory Towers. I can remember coming to lunch in a boarding house and chatting for a long time afterwards with the housemistress. I can remember sitting with the upper sixth at lunch, and one of them going to fetch more water while making a joke about "nice jugs". I can remember the soul-searching and the long discussions about the move from state to private school, and whether I was selling my soul. When the head phoned me on the Friday to offer the job, I was away on Guide camp. I was so convinced that I was what school was looking for, was so gob-smacked that they had asked me to take the job, I had to ask for a bit of time to make up my mind.

It was a tough decision, but - even on a day like today, where there's netball in the freezing fog, and evening duty looming ahead - I don't regret it for a moment. I love my job.

We've just been to see March of the Pengu (well, that's what the tickets said) as a impulsive "get out of the village" attempt. 'Twas good, and the pengu were fat and fluffy. In other news, I've been playing, watching and umpiring netball for much of the afternoon - my repuation as a non-sports person is in jeopardy.

Although I'm refusing to have a hen night with L-plates, fake veils, and other such general tat, I do fancy doing something different. Maybe here for the beer festival on May 6th? Had better try and consult my diary...

Tonight's dinner was one of the those "see what's in the fridge and cook it all" meals. We had mashed butternut squash, tomato/mozorella salad, and stuffed peppers. I used cous cous to do the actual stuffing, along with some finely chopped chillies that I had in the freezer. To say that it had a strong kick is a little bit of an understatement. Even guzzling milk and walking round with my mouth wide open was not enough to cool my tongue, and my lips are still tingling now. Damn, 'twas good.

Yesterday was a day of strange coincidences. After teaching in the morning, Rob and I headed into Derby to pick up a few things from the shops (suits, rings, and the like). As we walked from the carpark into town, I spotted someone who was at university at the same time as me, who I've not spoken to since about 1999. She hasn't changed at all. Later on, we were having a cheeky pint (or four) in the pub with a couple of people, and I discovered that one of them used to work with the father of someone I knew from county youth orchestra. It's a small world.

Much to today has been spent sleeping and digging, in that order, and the plan for the rest of the day hinges on geeking, marking and cooking, probably also in that order. Life doesn't get more exciting. Mebbe.

My Cat's having a manic moment, and is batting her jingly plastic ball around the sitting room like an advert for feline speed. However, just now she ran across the room, jumped on the ball and it got lost under the fat of her stomach. To say that she looked bemused by the ball's disappearence is an understatement. What have you lost under your fat bits today?

Bad news: have lost my diary, even though it's a very bright colour so I don't lose it. This means I have no clue what's happening this evening, let alone next month.

Good news: I found this on the b3ta.com newsletter and it made me chortle like a lunatic on laughing gas. Tee hee.

Rob came home from Fight Club last night with three brace of pheasant. (I think there should be at least one s in that sentence to indicate plurals but I'm not entirely sure where it should go, so in the style of my kids when they're clueless, I'm just going to leave it out). The birds are lovely, but still well-endowed in the feather department. There's a lot of plucking to be done, and I suspect that the bathroom will look like we've been murdering feather pillows by the time we're finished, but until that time, we all know an appropriate song, don't we children?! Sing along now, or join in when you know the words...

Lots going on, in school, at Guides, in the garden, and on the wedding front. We had a meeting with the vicar, where he invited us over for a chat and some gin; and his actual words were "gin - it's the devil's drink" so now I have offical vicar confirmation of what I have suspected for a long time. Given that I'd already dragged him to pub after the staff party and then told him dirty jokes all evening (not that I can remember any of this!) I feel this relationship is working out ok, and he'll be a good man to marry us.

Foodwise, we're trying to eat healthily, although I suspect that the demon drink is undoing all of our good work. Partly this healthy eating is because my December Eating is best described as "starving man offered his first meal in two years" and partly because my mother commented on my waistline when I went to try on my wedding dress. Pish. Does she not realise that's why I've ordered a lace-up dress, so that my ever-changing waistline can be easily accommodated?! Anyhoo, talk of healthy food is prompting me to think of the lasagne that's cooking gently in the oven, wafting garlicky smells through the flat, so I'd best go before I dribble into my laptop.

The holidays have slipped past with scary speed, although there are still a few precious days of freedom remaining. Mind you, they will be spent doing all of the planning and prep that need doing before the start of term, so hardly freedom, but not quite suits'n'boots yet!

The holiday activities consisted of:
cooking
food
drink
family
friends
sleeping
shopping
gardening
films
chickens
cats
Snowdonia;
plus a few more things that have slipped my mind. All in all, 'twas good. We even bought our own Christmas tree, which is definitely a rite of passage into grown-up-hood-ness.

Now that Christmas is out of the way, the wedding plans can move on again: we sat last night to look at the guest list, realised that we had 170 names on it, and had to do some drastic pruning. It's a real blow, as choosing the sacrificial lambs was damn hard, but a budget is a budget and getting into debt for a single day seems a bit dense. We weren't intending to do 'day' and 'evening' invites, but we've had to fall down that path. Hey ho. It's all an issue of unlimited wants and scarce resources.... damned economics!

Term finished last night with the Christmas House Supper: an evening of food, booze and schmoozing. Rob got to sit with me and my tutor group, who didn't succeed in embarassing him, and only managed to drop me in it once - it was a good evening, I think, and Rob's still talking to me now, so hopefully that augurs well.

Much of this morning was spent sleeping, in typical "first day of the holidays" style, and since falling out of bed around midday I've cleaned the bathroom and mooched around tidying the flat - I'm just soooo rock and roll! Tomorrow I'm off for a haircut and some shopping. I hope that the holiday gets more exciting as it goes on, or it's going to be a boring few weeks. Harrumph.

Now off to lurk through the Confetti message boards laughing at the bridezillas whinging about their weddings. It keeps me amused, anyway!

Picture the scene: Rob and I sitting on the sofa, Your Cat sitting on Rob's lap.

Me: Ooh, My Cat licked Your Cat's bottom today!
Rob: Well, that's what you get... [pause to stroke Your Cat affectionately] ...when your bottom tastes of STRAWBERRIES.
Me: [gobsmacked] Strawberries?!
Rob: Oh yes, I lick it all the time.
Me: I can't believe that you've just said. I am SOOO going to blog it.

It's been a stupidly busy week at work, what with end-of-term report deadlines springing up every day. School have, this term, converted to an electronic reporting system, which is causing no end of teething problems, not least because there are only 8 general-use computers in school that have the software, and the system crashes the moment anyone tries to do something complicated. Still, new technology is by definition new and therefore better, or so they say...

Thursday saw Julia and I heading off to the local riding school to claim some horse muck, and digging is progressing at a good rate. Photos via the dirty hoes and on flickr. Needless to say, I feel a little achey from the digging but happy from being out-of-doors and not writing reports.

Friday was my birthday, so to celebrate we took the Guides to Birmingham to visit the Christmas market. We travelled by train, which is always amusing, and took so many parents with us that the ratio of adults:children was 1:1 - the girls headed off with their families and us leaders got to wander around with no responsibilities... that's the sort of Guide trip I like! We then headed to the pub (hurrah for its late licence) and ended up looking like this:



Now, though, there are just three days of term left, all as busy as the week just gone: I'm just looking forward to sleeping on Thursday!

I went to string orchestra this evening, for the first time since February. In fact, it's the first time I've played my viola at all since February. And we were playing Bartok, which had lots of notes, and now my fingers ache.

In other news, I have new wellies for digging, although it was too wet for digging today.

'Tis the season - one of my favourite things about Christmas. Read and enjoy. Just don't have a mouth full of drink.

Gardening needs appropriate footwear, and ebay's come up trumps. I don't think they'll arrive in time to do exciting digging this weekend, but soon I'll be happily wallowing in mud in new blue wellies. Whoooo!!