Life – Page 3 – Middle Age Fanclub

Teaching: New school year, new job…help!

This September I start a new job. This shouldn’t be a big problem for me, yet I’m more than a little anxious about the change.

As I said, it shouldn’t be something that’s too alarming. I mean for a start, this was my choice. Furthermore, I’m entering my 25th year of teaching – what’s that, you wouldn’t know it to look at me and I should get out of town, you say? It’s true though and in my head that should mean that I’ve seen it all before and that a change like this shouldn’t really have an effect. But it is and there’s quite a lot that’s bothering me. But rather than write about it in a “pick me” as my kids say, kind of way, I thought I’d try to make people smile a bit. Let’s play this for laughs, not for sympathy.

Let’s start with how it all came about. I’d been at my last place for 9 years, most of them blissfully happy ones too. I was appointed as a Lead Practitioner and although at first it felt like the school might not know what to do with me, it was thoroughly enjoyable and I felt like I was contributing a lot. Over the years I felt like I was really helping out at the school and affecting change in my own small way. I’d occasionally run whole school or departmental training. I’d do morning briefings about various things, taking the lead on reading and oracy in particular with the emphasis on getting my ideas across while also giving people a bit of fun at the start of their day. I’d also do fairly regular assemblies. In short, I felt like I was good at my job. Apart from mentoring; I was shit at that.

Three years ago though, I was told that my role was no longer viable for whatever reason and that was that. Unless I wanted to apply to be in charge of KS4 English, I’d be back as a teacher of English only. The KS4 role just wasn’t for me and so I went about my business as a teacher. Sure, I sulked a bit but overall I was professional and did my job to the very best of my ability. The cut in wages and lack of challenge never left me though and I decided that I’d be leaving, as much as it would hurt.

Then, two years ago, I got ill. My heart decided not to bother working properly anymore and it resulted in me having 4 months off work. When I returned, nothing felt the same and I spent large parts of last year feeling really unhappy. Now, I’ll be honest, I probably look unhappy most of the time anyway, but this was different. Inwardly and outwardly, I just wasn’t smiling.

Luckily for me another chance presented itself and with a touch more luck, I got the job. So, just what is it that’s worrying me then?

I’m someone who likes to have fun at work. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a professional first and foremost, but I’ve loved being class clown for a long time too. For me, teaching is largely just showing off.

One of the ways that I like to have fun is via email. Childish, I know, but I love a daft email. Now though, I find myself worrying about how that first email will go down. At my last place, my first really silly one involved asking everyone in the department what music they’d have as their walk on music, if we could bring in such a thing. It’s the kind of thing that I daydream about in meetings. If you must know, I’d have a burst ‘No Limits’ by 2Unlimited, followed by a bit of ‘The Power’ by Snap before finishing with the drama of ‘One Voice’ by Barry Manilow. Genius, I know. I’d look fabulous as well, by the way.

Anyway, after 9 years at my old place everyone was more than used to this type of thing and most seemed to enjoy it. But how will it all go down in a new setting? I’m heartened by the fact that I know some of the people in my department, but still, I don’t want people to think of me as a complete knobhead. Not until they get to know me, anyway.

On a much more serious note, I’m anxious about creating relationships with my classes. It’s always hard and having been at the same school for 9 years, it’s not something I’m used to any more. Sure, I had new classes every year, but this year barely a pupil at the school knows me. I know that after a few weeks they’ll be used to me and I’ll be used to them, but the fact that it can be such a gruelling process is still a little daunting. I’ve never been one of the ‘don’t smile ’til Christmas’ brigade and want students to enjoy being in my lessons so for me relationships are key.

It’s a similar story where relationships with colleagues are concerned. As I said earlier, I already know some of my department having worked with them before, but as for the others, I don’t even think I’ve met them all. I’m really quite a shy person. In my recent leaving speech I joked that probably only 40% of the people present actually knew who I was, but I might not have been too far wide of the mark! Hopefully though, I’m able to come across as far less of a tool than I actually am. I might even try to chip in with some useful comments in meetings, just to smooth the way! Best to get some brownie points in the bag before that first email, I guess!

Learning names is also something to fret about. I’ve never been the best in this area of my job. With students I’m usually quite good, just because I see the same names on a register time and time again, although there’ll always be one or two that slip the net. However, it’s staff names that I really struggle with. There are already a couple of people that I’ve met where I’m unsure of their name. It’s a particular blind spot with me and although there’s always ‘Miss’ and ‘Sir’ to rely on, I always feel guilty about this particular flaw. A whole fresh start with an entirely new staff suddenly feels like an accident waiting to happen. I’m never far off an ‘alright Dave’ situation when I’m talking to a Mike or a Paul and it’s inevitable that I’m only weeks ago from a misnaming faux pas!

Almost a quarter of a century of teaching has seen me acquire quite a lot of ‘stuff’. And finding it a home makes me anxious too. I’m yet to see my classroom and so don’t know if there’s space for all I’ll bring. Further to that is the fact that it’s going to take loads of trips back and forth from my car to get it all in too. I deliberately left quite a lot behind and have even culled some of the stuff I brought home. I mean, I took around half a box of spare worksheets and paper resources that I had knocking around in my old room before looking at them in my front room and realising that, having not probably used any of it for the best part of a decade I’d probably have no need for it anyway! It’s odd the things that you cling on to. Luckily, there are probably only around 7 boxes worth to transport. And then some bags too! Someone help me!

My new job is at a boys school. The first same sex school I’ll have taught in and although I know exactly what to expect (lads, lads, lads, I suppose), it unnerves me a bit. I know it’ll take a bit of getting used to. I know that I’ll spend the first few weeks looking at my class thinking stuff like, ‘There’s something not quite right here’ and doing comedy double takes at the fact that ‘THEY’RE ALL BOYS’!

And then, and by no means finally but I have to end somewhere, there are the little things. The ones that will probably turn out to be nothing, but will almost certainly keep me awake the night before it all begins.

Firstly, I haven’t got my pass yet. And what are we without a lanyard, eh? I mean, a chair of governors once wrongly accused me and a couple of others of turning ours around deliberately at an open evening in order to avoid parental questions, so I’m envisaging a horde of riot police charging at me when I turn up without one. But also, how do I get in to the building? What if no one comes to get me? And then, when I finally get it what do I do if the picture is one of those where my smile is on the wane, so to speak? You know, like it’s sliding off your face? What do I do then?

There’s also the bit where you have to introduce yourself to the whole staff. Sure, it’s just a stand up and wave thing, but if anyone’s going to trip over his own feet on the way up or miss his chair on the way back down, it’s me. My brain has a terrible habit of either making me say stupid stuff or do something even stupider. So, I’m really looking forward to winking at a hall full of people while pointing my fingers or doing a peace sign like some cheeseball gameshow host and all the while not having a clue how any of it happened.

Furthermore, I’ve never parked in the actual car park. I’ve always been in a handy visitor’s space. So what if I park in the wrong place? It’d be just like me to park in Big Tony’s space (the bloke who everyone fears and no one knows what he actually teaches – every school’s got one). I’m not a young man anymore; I could do without all of this!

All this is running round my mind and I haven’t even got to the usual expected raft of IT problems that have haunted me for years. The board that only works on days with an ‘e’ in their name, the forgetting of my own password, wrestling with a more advanced version of ClassCharts than I’m used to and then of course, my nemesis…the bloody visualiser! We still used a telly on a trolley when I first started, so it doesn’t take much in terms of IT to put me in a flap!

Changing jobs has made me feel ludicrously inexperienced again, before I’ve even started. I’m finding myself worrying about things that bothered me as a newly qualified teacher back in the late 1800s. Anyone that knows me will also know that none of this is an exaggeration either! Luckily, I know that really it’s just a case of getting the first month out of the way before I’m into some kind of routine and things are pretty much falling into place. Give it a year or two and they’ll have stopped talking about the amount of times I locked myself out of a building, the ridiculous resources I brought or even my inevitably ill fitting high viz for duties too.

Wish me luck! I think I’m going to need it!

It was a bittersweet July.

It’s been a little while since I’ve actually written anything. In fact, this is the first time I’ve got my hands on a keyboard in the month of August. Suffice to say that July was a bit of an emotional one and as a result, it took its toll on me.

The most bittersweet part of it all was leaving work. I’d worked at Thornhill Community Academy in Dewsbury for 9 years, having trained there – it was my second teaching practice school – 25 years ago. All in all that’s a long time to be associated with a place of work and a community. I always felt like I’d go back there and when I did, I didn’t think I’d leave before retirement.

Nothing lasts forever though and having suffered with my health over the last couple of years I was finding less and less enjoyment in my work. Having all but collapsed there in 2022, my classroom made me feel uncomfortable and at times really quite sad. Add that to a raft of other problems and I knew I’d have to leave. So, when an opportunity to work with some of my friends came up, I eventually applied and was lucky enough to get the job.

Leaving a job I’d been in for almost a decade was a real wrench though. I’ve made lots of friends, had the professional pleasure of working with some brilliant people, loved the school and hopefully had a positive effect on some of my students. I was almost moved to tears during my leaving speech, but just about managed to keep it together – if you were in the room, I can confirm that there were no tears, just a really ugly crying face!

I’ll miss so many people and September is going to feel very strange indeed, but I hope that my new start will serve to inspire me a bit and whet my appetite for teaching once again, as well as helping me to get over what really has to be the final hurdle in my recovery from illness! I mean, how long can it take?!

Despite the upheaval, I actually feel positive. I’m probably far too old to be making a fresh start, but I feel like I have the energy and the people around me to make it a success. More to the point, I feel like I want to make it a success. I feel enthusiastic, while also feeling like there’s no way I want to let people down. So in September, I’ll be enjoying a far shorter commute and throwing myself into it all at an entirely new school while working with more than enough familiar faces to allow me to feel fairly comfortable from the off.

Of course, the end of an academic year signals the start of summer for those of us in education. And so, as sad as I felt to leave my job I had the benefit of 6 weeks holiday to cushion the blow and mix some sweetness into the bitterness.

First up in the break was heading to Wales for a family holiday and that never fails to raise a smile and make me feel relaxed. The weather wasn’t perfect, but we still managed a few days on the beach, as well as trips out to Barmouth and Pwllheli. All in all, to finish work on the Friday and then be on a beach the next day made for a lovely couple of days. Then, to add in lots of fun in the week that followed added up to a genuinely brilliant break.

A personal highlight for me was being able to fit in two runs. I run on every holiday and have done for a while now when we go to Wales. However, usually I head up some nearby hills before running down to a nearby coastal village and then looping back around again towards our cottage. This time, feeling tired, I decided to take a flatter route which would enable me to do something I’ve never done before; run along the beach.

The beach at the end of the road is a couple of miles long and then, if you’re lucky and the tide’s out sufficiently, you can clamber over some rocks onto a beautiful, peaceful little cove. I was able to do just that on both of the occasions that I ran. Both times I went out early in the morning and both times there was barely another soul to be seen. It was amazingly peaceful, while also being really hard work as sand just saps the strength from your legs.

On the morning of our last full day, not only did I run along the beach, but when I got round to the quiet cove there were two herons feeding in the shallows and I was able to sit and watch them for ages while having the whole place to myself. More than enough to make you smile!

So, having left behind a place of work that gave me a fantastic 9 years and felt all the sadness that you’d expect, I was able to spend a wonderful week with my family and experience the kind of calm coupled with genuine elation that I’m guessing doesn’t come along too often. Like I said, it was a bittersweet July!

Always Look On The Bright Side – Five things that made me smile in June!

The weather alone should be reason to smile in June, but alas here in England the month or season doesn’t always offer a guarantee where the weather is concerned! So, while sheltering from the almost incessant rain, I had to look elsewhere for my little moments of joy last month. Here’s what I found.

Cooking. I love the idea of cooking. I see recipes or even just pictures of food and think I’d love to make that. Sadly though, I’m not a great chef. I don’t enjoy cooking either and the process usually gives me no joy whatsoever. Instead, I find it stressful and tedious and the end result is often nowhere near what I was led to believe would happen should I follow these magical instructions. The kitchen is always a mess afterwards too. Lately however, I’ve managed to find some simpler recipes to follow and have actually found that I’ve put together some very tasty dishes. For now, I’m sticking to pasta with the aim of honing my skills and concentration levels so that I can attempt a decent curry, but we’ll see. What I’ve found so far though, is that every Thursday and Friday, making something like pesto chicken pasta or penne with tomatoes, cream and chorizo is not only making me smile, but it’s an unexpected delight to me tastebuds too! Definitely something to smile about!

Comedy Pet Photos. I wasn’t aware of the Comedy Pet Photo Awards until very recently. Last month in fact, which was obviously handy given this blog. Apparently, it happens every year and people from all over their world send their funny photos in to be judged. I’ll be honest, I didn’t think all of the finalists were that funny, but the two below definitely raised a smile. And although the winner – Hector the dog – was good, it wasn’t as good as the donkey for me! Regardless, both of them helped turn that frown upside down!

K Pop Hugging Marathon. Being 52 I’m not a fan of K Pop – in fact I have only the vaguest idea of what it is – and I’m also not the world’s greatest hugger. Still though, this story made me smile. To summarise, some bloke called Jin from the insanely popular K Pop boy band BTS – don’t ask me what that stands for, although I suspect it’s Bacon & Tomato Sauce, as in the filling in a delicious sandwich – has come up with an idea to celebrate the end of his 18 months of national service. He performed a hugging marathon with 1000 fans who were chosen in a raffle. In truth it sounds like a bit of a daft idea, but then when you think about the impact it will have on those fans you can’t help but smile. In an era where too many ‘stars’ keep themselves distant, this seems like a brilliant gesture and one that he really didn’t need to make. I’m sure fans of the band would have just been happy that he was ready to get back to the band, but instead he’s not only given out free hugs, he then performed songs to 3000 more fans in a different event. That Jin, eh? What a guy!

Classical Music. Classical music wouldn’t naturally be my choice. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it, but usually only in the background of a film or some kind of video. In truth I wouldn’t know Bach from Beethoven! I’m an indie kid at heart still, despite my age! However, my opinion changed somewhat last month when a group called ‘&Piano’ came to our school to perform for our Year 7 students. ‘&Piano’ are a collective of musicians with only the one constant; the lad who plays piano. Last month’s incarnation was piano, cellist and an opera singer and it was fantastic. From the second that the opera singer sang her first note I was pretty much enthralled and despite one or two giggles in the audience, I think our students were too! A true testament to the power of live music and more than enough to raise a smile! I’ve added a link to their website below if anyone fancies finding out more.

https://andpiano.co.uk/

Birthdays! My wife and daughter’s birthdays are two days apart in June, so last month was a big one in terms of organisation, celebration…and presents! It can get very stressful and this year was no different apart from the fact that the stress levels ramped right up as it was my daughter’s 18th. It was all still really enjoyable though. Still though, one or two things really made me smile. Firstly, I bought my wife a joke present – some bubble wrap. She’d been wrapping some of our daughter’s things a few days prior to her own big day and was using bubble wrap for a couple of the more delicate gifts. So when she remarked, ‘I love bubble wrap!’ I was straight online to order some! What really made me smile though was how big it was. The bale was around 3 feet high and a couple wide which none of use were really prepared for! My wife took it in very good humour though, especially as it was alongside a pile of other gifts! My daughter’s party managed to make me smile too, even if I was quite opposed to the scale of the whole thing. We were lucky to get a local bar to host and around 40 friends and family showed up to celebrate. Our hosts were absolutely brilliant and everyone had a ball. And you can’t help but smile when it all turns out well!

So, another month passes with a few more smiles and standout moments. I’m hoping July, with its end of the academic year feel, will raise a few more! I’ll let you know soon!

Always Look on The Bright Side – things that made me smile in May!

These days, there are times when it feels like there’s really not a lot of room for hope or optimism. Too much about our world is more likely to make us scowl than smile. Whether it be war, poverty, global warming or something as simple as bad traffic or talentless celebrities, it can feel like there’s not a lot to smile about. However, if you look really carefully, you’re sure to find at least something good.

Hence, this blog. It’s something I do whenever I can find enough to write about that’s genuinely made me smile. But it’s been missing from my site for a little while because I’ve really struggled to find something that gives me any optimism.

Well, that all changed last month. So, here we go…and as a bonus, there’s more than the usual five things too!

The sun! Now granted, there’s not been a lot of it in our corner of the world, but it’s still enough to raise a smile. Being able to wander round in shorts is always refreshing (even with my legs!), but even little things like not having to worry about the rain have been great too. On a couple of weekends I’ve even been able to sit our in my back garden and read my book in the sun, which for me is always a blessing. Here’s hoping that there will be a lot more sun to come in the next few months!

A school library in a plane. As an English teacher I’ve always been a fan of libraries. So reading about a primary school in Bristol that has turned a plane fuselage into a library really made me smile. St. Helen’s Primary in Alveston had previously saved up to buy the fuselage in order to turn it into a library as well as an outdoor classroom. The pupils seem to love it and the school have also created a book club that meets in the plane library too!

Eriskay FC. This was another thing that I read about on the BBC website. Eriskay FC play their football in the Outer Hebrides, which if you don’t know, are a series of islands off the west coast of Scotland. Their pitch has been named by FIFA as one of the eight most remarkable places to play football on the planet. Now, as someone who used to coach in junior football, I’ve visited some weird and wonderful pitches. None have been as remarkable as this one though. Have a look for yourselves!

Not only are their sheep grazing on the pitch – and all that they leave behind to clear up before you play – but it’s far from a flat surface. And imagine the breeze coming off the sea!

This year’s Pontefract 10k! I’ve already written about this race on a previous blog, but it’s safe to say that it made me smile for a number of reasons. Firstly, it’s just a race that I really enjoy. It’s got a really friendly atmosphere and it’s quite a testing course too. Secondly though, smiling for this one was a conscious decision. I’m sick of being caught grimacing or looking like I might be about to die by race photographers and so this year I decided to keep an eye open for them and make sure that I was smiling as I approached them! It almost worked as well, but having seen some of the official photos it seems clear that yes, I’m smiling, but also I look shattered! Finally, the race also made me smile because it represents another step forward in living with my pacemaker and there can’t be enough of those!

John Bishop. John is a stand up comedian and last month we went to see his live show. We’ve never seen John live before, but he’s always been a very funny man. A lot of his set revolved around middle age issues and so I was able to empathise, as well as laughing along heartily. We’ve seen a few comedians so far this year and being able to sit and laugh for a couple of hours is an extra good medicine if you’re feeling any kind of stress or strain. Anyway, I wrote a review of the gig for another website, so feel free to have a read on the link below.

https://rgm.press/john-bishop-live-in-halifax-what-happened/news/

Childhood Sweethearts. I think I’m getting old, you know! And this next bit shows it! I was reading the BBC website one morning and stumbled across a tale of lost love with a happy ending. I suddenly couldn’t resist a click! Bill and Anne were just 13 when they first met and Bill fell head over heels in love. However, he dithered about making his move and then, well, life just got in the way. But a chance meeting with a friend of Anne’s on a golf trip many years later led to them eventually getting back together. And the smiliest part of it all? The couple eventually got married, aged 77! You can read Bill and Anne’s story on the link below.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cnee2wjxpvzo

I’m sure you’ll agree that May had a good few reasons for smiling and I hope it was a good month for you too. I hope you enjoyed reading and that what you’ve looked at maybe raised a smile with you too!

Poetry Blog: ‘A Day at the Lake’

This is a poem about one of our first family holidays, when there was just the three of us. It’s one of those memories that I think will always stick with me and one that I can summon really easily.

The poem is about a tiny bit of a break we had in the Lake District when my daughter was just a toddler. It covers those protective feelings that you have as a parent. A swan nipped my daughter’s finger when she was giving bread to the ducks and it threatened to spoil the day. Later, when she’d calmed down, we moved round the lake a bit, took our shoes and socks off and had a bit of a paddle, or a plodge as we call it where I’m from.

Anyway, have a read.

A Day at the Lake

Earlier that day a rogue swan had nipped at your finger
after you'd steeled yourself and trusted mum enough
to offer it some bread.
You sobbed into her warm, protective arms,
soothed just a little by her calming words,
while nearby I seethed with rage,
fists clenched, tensed, 
until common sense reminded me that
you can't punch swans.
They belong to the queen, you know.

Later, plodging in the lake on a different shore
and at a suitable distance from your attacker and his cronies,
your little hands gripped mine and told me
that you didn't much like the numbing cold of the water
on your legs and didn't want to feel the spite of pebbles
digging into your bare feet.
But you clung on, held your own, as you always would.

Later still, as we made our way back,
you ran off across a thigh high meadow
that laughed along with you,
your awkward limbs flailing for speed and distance,
enjoying this rare but heady mix of freedom and terror
and a loosening of the reigns for once,
because, swan now a distant memory, surely lightning could not strike twice
in such a beautiful spot as this.

With the determination that you've clung to for life,
you ran and ran, giggling loudly at your sudden independence,
ignoring the cries of 'not too far'
until it was decided that there was too much rope
and I caught you, scooped you up,
pretending to drop you for another thrill,
then hauled you up, onto my shoulders
as some kind of halfway house between wrapping you in cotton wool
and letting you know that sometimes, it's good to test the limits.

I joke about it in the poem, but I was beyond angry at that swan! And I really had to stop myself from behaving terribly. I guess it was another one of those days when you discover the lengths that you’re prepared to go to as a protective father!

Whenever I think about that day, I can clearly picture my daughter running away from us across the meadow as we headed back to the car. White shorts dungarees, a pink t-shirt and a rainbow belt around her dungarees with her hair in pigtails. She’s always been a little headstrong and I think we saw early signs of it that day, although it remains a really happy memory and it was particularly funny at the time. Like any newish parents though, we were over-protective and so, while we laughed we probably both wanted to just take off across the field and catch her, just to make sure that no more harm came to her! And eventually, we did!

I hope you enjoyed the poem.

Running: As Spring heads into Summer, here’s a cautionary tale.

I’ve labelled this as a running blog, but with the weather beginning to heat up, I guess it’s just a cautionary tale for lots of us, really.

On Friday I went out for my usual after work run. I’m currently training for an upcoming 10k and so had hoped to run the same distance, just to see how it felt. However, even as I went out at just before 6pm, it was still 24 degrees, which is hot for us northerners. It would have been hot to sit in, but I chose to go for a run!

It was an absolutely beautiful evening. The sun was shining in a lovely blue sky and there wasn’t much of a breeze. But it didn’t take long for me to realise that this was going to be a bit of a struggle.

After a couple of miles, while I wasn’t struggling, I was uncomfortable. The heat meant that I was losing my focus and in turn I was thinking about the fact that I was too warm, too thirsty and beginning to feel tired. I had also begun to fuss about little things; my right trainer didn’t feel tight enough and this was beginning to really bug me, so I had to focus again quickly. I began to think about my route and also to give myself short term goals like quickening my pace or dropping my shoulders a bit or even just counting my steps to retain concentration.

It didn’t work. In the end I got my mileage all wrong. First, I got confused between two routes and took a wrong turning, believing that I had enough route left to comfortably manage the 10k without having to run up a ridiculous hill for the final half mile. Then, having checked my watch a few times, I misread how far I’d gone. The heat befuddled my brain enough that I couldn’t add up anymore and a while later was dismayed to find that I’d only done 4 miles when I thought I’d have covered 5! I knew then that managing a 10k was going to be difficult.

But things got worse. As I got closer to home I realised that my left hand was feeling a bit numb. Now, as a heart patient, any left sided action (pain, numbness etc) can leave you panicking. Something about it didn’t feel right and I was quite concerned. I kept on running though and as I did I realised that my watch felt too tight on my wrist. So, with a little difficulty. I loosened it off. But this still didn’t solve the numbness.

Slightly later and closer to the end of my run I noticed that my hands looked swollen. On closer inspection my wedding ring felt absurdly tight and as a man with thin, girly fingers this was a bit of a surprise! My hands and wrists had swollen right up and I can only put it down to being far too hot. Needless to say, after just short of 6 miles and with a big hill to come before I’d hit home, I stopped, rather than risking reaching boiling point!

When I eventually made it home my hands were still so swollen that I had to just stand with them in a sink of ice cold water for a good 10 minutes, while occasionally taking them out in order to drink more water. Despite trying to run in shade I’d put myself in real danger.

As I said, it’s a cautionary tale. And so, I’ll end with a bit of common sense advice (which I failed to adhere too because I clearly lack common sense). If you’re out for a run in the heat you’d be wise to…

Hydrate properly. Drink enough beforehand and maybe take some with you. And when you finish, drink copious amounts of water!
Maybe wear a hat, regardless of how gormless you think you’ll look. It’s still a better look than swollen hands or ending up flat on your back on a pavement somewhere.
Find the shade. Run in as much of it as you can manage.
Wear some suncream or sun block.
Make sure that you warm down and stretch properly once your exercise is over with.
And if your hands swell up so that you look like someone holding a couple of red balloon animals, get them in some water as quickly as possible!

Enjoy the warmer weather!

Book Review: The Garbage King by Elizabeth Laird

The Garbage King is a story that’s largely aimed at kids, probably from Year 6 upwards. However, a good story is a good story, no matter who it’s aimed at. I stumbled upon it when I was looking for ideas for my reluctant reader son to try and thus, having read only good things about the book, I decided to give it a go myself!

The Garbage King tells the story of street children in Ethiopia and helps us to understand that regardless of their background, children are essentially very vulnerable and that anything can happen to any of them. Such is the case with Dani and Mamo, two kids from opposite ends of the social scale who end up on the street together.

After a harrowing episode in his early life where he’s sold to a rural family as a slave, Dani escapes back to Addis Ababa and begins his life on the streets. So far, life has been brutal and painful for Dani and the streets of Ethiopia’s capital don’t make things any better.

Meanwhile, across town Mamo lives in a lovely house in a quiet, exclusive area. He has the trappings of a wealthy family, but is failing in school and his strict father is not impressed. Fearing his fate when his lack of academic progress is revealed, he decides that there’s only one thing for it; to run away. Before he knows it he too is living on the streets. But while one boy relies on his wits and guile to stay alive, the other is a sitting duck. And then a chance encounter between the two boys changes both of their lives.

The Garbage King is an excellent read. Elizabeth Laird gives the reader a brilliant, and I have to assume authentic view, of life on the streets of Addis Ababa. Certainly, as I was reading I felt like I could easily imagine what it looked like as well as hearing the sounds of the city and even being able to imagine the smell of some of the food being described. It was clearly not the kind of hustle and bustle that would be safe for a child though.

Danger seems to lie at every corner of Laird’s Addis Ababa, making The Garbage King a tense read at times. As a reader, there’s a genuine sense of fear for both of the boys, but especially the naïve Mamo. Luckily though, he has Dani to look out for him, so although life is now distinctly uncomfortable, there’s slightly less immediate danger.

There are twists and turns to The Garbage King, making it a real page turner at times. As poor Mamo lies freezing at night, too terrified to sleep, it made me think of my own son and how frightened I’d be if he happened to find himself in a similar situation. It’s bad enough when he’s out camping!

Laird’s characters are fantastically written. We’re onside with Dani from the very start of the novel. Life is tough for him, but he doesn’t complain. In fact, he shows guts and determination in order to get out of the initial situation that he finds himself in and when he’s finally made safe by the kindness of a stranger, we feel happy for him. He’s bright and likeable and so when fate deals him a losing hand, we’re willing things to get better. And when the various dangers of life on the busy city streets catch up with him, we’re desperate for him to stay safe.

As the novel rolls on the boys find their feet on the streets. As there’s safety in numbers, they fall in with a small gang, but danger and misfortune is still never far away. For now though, life is a lot better than it could have been had they not seen off a few of the predators that lurk in the shadows. Ultimately though, both boys just want life to return to some sort of normality

Will Dani ever see his sister again? Will Mamo be able to return home to his strict father? Well, you’ll have to read and find out!

I give ‘The Garbage King’…

The Apprentice: Here comes the final!

So, after what feels like a lifetime chock full of business tasks fuelled by a combination of bizarre decisions and downright ineptitude, we’re mere hours away from another Apprentice finale. And even though I don’t feel that I’ve been as invested in the candidates as I might have been in previous years, I cannot wait!

This year’s finalists are gym owner Rachel Woolford and pie company boss Phil Turner. And it’s anyone’s guess who’ll win out. Unless you’re Lord Sugar of course, who I reckon won’t just guess who he gives £250,000 to.

Even in the interviews it felt like a bit of a lottery in terms of who would make the final. However, once it emerged that Tre didn’t have a business plan or really, a product and that Paul had chosen the wrong plan and that you or I knew just about as much as he did about scrubs, then the field was kind of narrowed down. In fact, given what happened in this year’s interview episode, I’m considering just turning up myself next year with some ideas scrawled down on a crumpled piece of paper titled, ‘Why I need Lord Sugar’s £250,000′ by Graham aged 53. I reckon I’d still have a bit of a chance of making the final.

Of the two finalists, it’s perhaps inevitable that we might look on Rachel as the favourite. Not only has she shown a fair amount of business acumen, hard work and determination throughout the series, but she’s up against Phil! Phil! The very same Phil who lost all of the first 9 tasks and seemed to be in the boardroom fighting for his life every other week. But then again, he’s in the final for a reason. We have to presume that Lord Sugar and his people have spotted something in him, surely. None of us has much idea what it might be though!

Last week, Phil added to his Apprentice legacy by revealing in the interviews that he hasn’t seen a set of accounts for his business for about a decade. OK, I’m exaggerating there, but the bloke literally sat and told scary Mike Soutar that he hadn’t seen his accounts for a couple of years. I’m no business viking (as no doubt someone must have referred to themselves over the years), but that feels like me not looking at the fuel gauge in my car for a fortnight and just hoping that I’ll keep getting to where I’m going.

Both candidates seem to have successful businesses and both just want to make them bigger. Fair enough. Rachel wants more gyms – and while we continue to obsess over how we look on social media then we’ll always need more gyms! I mean, where else would the country’s vain halfwits find mirrors big enough to pose in?

Phil, on the other hand, wants to expand his pie business after admitting that he didn’t have the vision to take it any further. And after he made a truffle flavoured vegan cheese that didn’t really taste of truffle…or cheese for that matter, in the last task, you can possibly see why he thinks he lacks vision I suppose.

Conspiracy theorists will have you believe that Phil is being set up to win. I mean, I certainly can’t remember a series where someone failed so spectacularly every week and then still made the final. Some have also pointed to the fact that in his win or bust task – the vegan cheese one – he was given the strongest of the other candidates on his team. But then, some of these people probably still think that the Earth is flat.

So, get yourselves set for an exciting final. There’s no clear favourite, but definitely an underdog. But, with the help of some, if not all of the other candidates from the series, there will be one last task to get through before Lord Sugar decides who he’s going to invest in. And of course, there’s my favourite bit of all; where the two successful candidates have to walk into the room for their pitch, usually down one of the longest walkways or staircases in the modern world. It has to be one of the most awkward TV moments of the year and every year a little bit of is secretly hoping for a trip!

The Apprentice 2024 Final. Can’t wait!

Book Review: The Runner by Markus Torgeby.

As a young man, Markus Torgeby quickly grew disaffected by a lot of what the world around him had to offer. He knew that society’s expectations were not for him. Despite being a talented runner though, he sensed that pursuing this as any kind of career was not going to work. Too often, injury or just not being in the right mindset got in the way of any kind of competitive edge. As he says himself at the start of the book, “My head was full of dark thoughts. I didn’t know what to do. I had to rethink what it was I really wanted, I had to find a way out of that well.”

What Markus did next – which is documented in the book – seems both astonishing and really quite wonderful.

‘The Runner’ is an international best seller and tells the tale of one man and his quest to find contentment. In short, Torgeby headed up into the Swedish wilderness to live in a tent and dedicate himself to a more simple life, where money didn’t matter, but running most certainly did.

It’s an amazing true life tale, beginning in Jamtland, northern Sweden where the temperature is -22 and Markus is the only person for miles around. This is where he escapes the norms of society, pitching his tent and living among nature complete with enormous amounts of snow, elk and even the threat of bears.

As you’d imagine from the title, running is very much central to Torgeby’s existence. When he vows to run every day, he means it and nothing will stop him, be that extreme weather conditions, injury or mental health issues. Torgeby isn’t just testing his fitness – he’s pitting himself against both the most extreme elements and also just the odds.

Running is where Markus is at peace and I have to say that resonated with me, as I’m sure it would with many runners. The only difference would be – and it’s a seismic difference – that while the majority of us are running around the civilised, normal streets or trails near where we live, Markus Torgeby is running around in one of the most isolated, northernmost territories on the planet! There are threats to life almost with every step he takes. This is not the tale of an everyday runner, despite the fact that he runs every day!

‘The Runner’ is actually really well written and Torgeby rarely shies away from telling us exactly how he’s feeling or what he thinks of the world, even if it can be uncomfortable to read at times. His blunt honesty is one of the most positive features of the book and it’s hard not to be impressed by Torgeby’s principles and way of life.

And then there’s the sheer courage of it all. As someone who rarely takes much in the way of risks, ‘The Runner’ makes for an absolutely fascinating read. Torgeby leaves home to live his life his way when he’s barely much more than a child. And yet, his lifestyle choice is utterly remarkable, especially when you know that he is burdened by the thought of his mother’s suffering, back at home. She suffers with MS and some of the most beautiful passages in the book revolve around her relationship with her son, as he cares for her and helps to make sure that she is still able to experience the wonder of the world around her.

After four years of living in his tent in the wilderness, Markus begins to come to terms with the world around him and the contentment that follows – I won’t spoil what that consists of – gives us a bit of a happy ending.

Part of me felt jealous of Torgeby while reading the book and I questioned some of my early adult decisions in life. It’s funny how something like this can take us back and make us more self critical. Ultimately though, at the age when Markus left home for the wilderness I was probably barely able to cook for myself, let alone live in a tent in some of the most unforgiving territory on the planet, so I was able to give myself a break after all!

Whether you’re a runner, health freak, someone with an adventurous spirit or none of those things, this book is a great read. For me personally, it was interesting to see that I had things in common with the writer and that we shared such a love of running. Ultimately though, if you like an interesting take on life or just enjoy learning about some of the bolder ways to live, then you’ll enjoy this book.

I give ‘The Runner’ by Markus Torgeby

Poetry Blog: ‘Willow’

It’s the Easter holidays and as I’ve got some time on my hands I decided to sit down and try and write something for the blog. Other commitments have been getting in the way of late and so my blog has been very much neglected.

So, with not a lot in mind to write about, I thought I’d trawl through some notebooks and accompanying scraps of paper in order to see what poetry I have knocking about. It turns out that there are quite a few that have either been started or simply finished and then just left and so, after quite a bit of reading I decided to add this one to the blog. It brings back a lot of memories and I really like it.

Willow

As the spots of rain get heavier 
and begin to change the colour of the roads
and pavements around,
you scramble for the familiar shelter
of the giant old weeping willow.

Everyone is out, the house locked up,
but you chose friends, football and 
the top of the hill Wembley of a pub car park
over the visit to family,
and now that team mates have chosen bricks and mortar for cover,
solitude in nature is forced upon you.

A mass of leaves and sagging branches provide ample sanctuary,
so you position yourself so not to be seen
from either road or the neighbour's house,
shift your knees up to your chest and enjoy this place
where there is no shouting, no conflict and
no storm of any kind.

The willow tree in question here is the one that we had in the garden of my childhood home. Everyone else regarded it as a nuisance because of its sheer size and mass of leaves that would be shed in autumn and litter the surrounding area, but I loved it.

I’d play in it as a small child, inventing games and characters and swinging on those branches. As I got older it became somewhere to hide and just be on my own, away from what I remember now, rightly or wrongly, as a lot of shouting and anger in our house. Sometimes, as in the poem, it was just a convenient shelter of a different kind as the rain just didn’t seem to get through it. As I got older, I’d often stay at home when my parents went across to see family, but would rarely remember to take a key. These things got forgotten when there was a game of football about to start! And so, I’d end up just sitting under the tree to escape the elements.

In later years, after we had moved out, the tree was cut down. I still kind of miss it to this day.

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