tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-53552000790969650542024-03-14T04:17:44.071+00:00Bird on the Steeple..... Singing to the people. Feel free to sing alongBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-14033475835731415962013-09-02T23:23:00.000+01:002013-09-02T23:23:52.076+01:00Something Gruesome in the Wooden Cottage...Before we start, this tale is a little spooky, a little grim. I suggest that this is not a "meal time" story, if you know what I mean. I strongly suggest you put that sandwich down. Really. Done that? Let's go.
Sometimes, weird historical quirks come to light in unusual ways and something you never knew existed turns out to have been quite common in the Late MiddleEvil Period, or similar, whenBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-89234600475215269922013-07-05T00:51:00.000+01:002013-07-05T00:51:08.210+01:00The best google search result ever. Contains cats.
The world is filled with wondrous variety. And on the edges of that amazing spectrum you will find conspiracy theorists, survivalists, people who drink their own urine. And then, right out there, there are die-hard pet lovers.
Now, before we start, I don't mean you. You are perfectly sensible and love your pet a reasonable and appropriate amount. We're all owned to a certain extent, andBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-69978968107768644972013-07-02T13:58:00.000+01:002013-07-02T13:58:06.982+01:008 Indisputable Reasons why the Monkees are better than the Beatles.Why are the Monkees better than the Beatles? I hereby provide you, the truth-seeking reader, with 8 indisputable answers to that question.
1. No Monkees fan has ever sat down with an evangelical look in their eye and explained the history of music to you, whether you wanted them to or not. They're too busy singing to put anybody down.
2. The Monkees did not inspire Noel Gallagher to do anythingBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-80897655272308657612013-06-28T01:18:00.000+01:002013-06-28T01:20:55.259+01:00Lilac, love and long, long trains
I’d forgotten how good the night air
smells. After a long winter, months of shutting the window on the freezing air,
the night smells good. It smells of possibility.
It smells like it did when I was 17. We’re
drinking cider in the park, sitting by the river, talking quietly, laying on
the damp grass. Now we’re going home, and I’m with my friends, but I’m walking
next to a Boy. The baggyBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-52621699894857056732013-01-25T19:35:00.002+00:002013-06-28T01:19:42.112+01:00The Great Lego Rip Off: what schools don't need.If you've read Big Rant about Big Writing on here, then you know that I tend to get a teensy bit irate about people who come into schools and charge huge amounts of money for initiatives of dubious educational benefit. There is a simple reason for this:
It is wrong.
These are tough times for schools, and money is tighter than an inappropriate simile. However, teachers are a dedicated Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-13341422668884223612012-11-01T19:56:00.001+00:002012-11-01T19:56:56.663+00:00Scouting for ParentsMy eldest just joined Cubs and she's the proud owner of a Naturalist Badge (or Naturist as she mistakenly called it, resulting in a very hasty chat over breakfast). There's nothing like sewing on Cub Badges to make you ponder your life as a parent and it occurred to me that I really ought to have earned some Parenting Badges by now.
Wouldn't it be great if all your hard work, sweat, tears andBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-845929324813289272012-08-07T21:40:00.000+01:002012-08-07T22:45:24.253+01:00Adventures in breastfeedingThere comes a time after the birth of every baby when the lure of a morning on the sofa with Phil and Holly begins to lessen. Son of Bird is one month old today, and that time has come.
With the need to Go Out comes the need to feed. I'm breastfeeding, and SonofBird's two hourly schedule means that either I stay at home, always, or I feed in public.
This is my third time round with the old Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-40401285818935187062012-01-07T21:55:00.000+00:002012-08-07T22:56:18.615+01:00The myth of the brilliant teacher
So, who was *that* teacher for you? You know, the one who inspired you, who set you on your life’s path and made a difference? It’s ok. You don’t have to answer that; please put your hands down. I only ask because it’s a question that surfaces a lot in teaching circles. The TES loves to ask a sleb who inspired them and it’s something we teachers are fascinated by. Maybe a little bit of us Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-22536721457173647462012-01-02T19:47:00.001+00:002012-01-02T19:47:21.285+00:00In real life...
In memory of @littlemunchkin
One of the things that makes me itchy on twitter is when people say it’s not real. It’s only twitter. It’s not real.It makes me uncomfortable because that’s one step away from saying all the people on there aren’t real. And if people aren’t real to us then we can treat them how we like, can’t we? It doesn’t matter. It’s not real.Now, I’ll be the first to admit Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-67241183215457625042011-09-21T23:42:00.000+01:002011-09-21T23:44:48.041+01:00Dear reader...
So, it’s a new term and here goes the blog again. I’ve had a bit of a block with the ol’ writing stuff. Well, not the writing, but in finding the courage to start to post again. When I first started, this was the scariest thing ever, then some of you were kind enough to be nice about it on that twitter and it became fun.
But as all teachers know, one negative can outweigh a Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-18950181189588209202011-06-28T17:13:00.001+01:002011-06-28T17:22:32.382+01:00Holibobs!Bird on the Steeple is taking a break... I like to start the School Holidays early. If you've come here via an Education link, happy holidays to you! Don't waste it all worrying about work: this is one of the few perks you get, enjoy it!
Love, Bird..... oh, and this is for you!
A cake for all my Edu-readers :)
Like the man says...woohoo!
Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-16399313189321013742011-06-22T16:48:00.001+01:002011-06-22T22:37:43.376+01:00Gove letters straight from the heart.This is a follow up post to …."Yes Sir we have no bananas today" because I wrote to my MP about the whole Sex Ed Bill thing and, my goodness, had a letter back. It turns out he forwarded my letter to Mr Gove, and so I also have a copy of Gove’s response.
I get ahead of myself. Let’s recap.
What is the Sex Ed Bill?
The Sex Ed Bill is a 10 minute Bill proposed by Nadine Dorries, which gets Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-38301570737045917302011-06-07T02:44:00.000+01:002011-06-07T02:44:22.821+01:00What has social media ever done for us?
What has social media ever done for me? Apart from the laughs, the community, the window on the world, educating me, consoling me, finding me real friends, seeing me through dark times and being a space of my own? Nothing and everything. Nonsense and common sense. The Agony and the Ecstasy. I’m getting a bit carried away here.
The important bit to me was that twitter, this is mostly about Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-41070703826814430462011-05-16T19:55:00.000+01:002011-05-16T19:55:05.239+01:00Yes Sir, we have no bananas today.Dear Reader,
I feel I have let you down. As a Sex Ed teacher I can only apologise for my inadequacies. It’s time to confess.
I am sorry to say that I have never put a condom on a banana.
Worse than that, I have never taught a primary aged child to put a condom on anything. Nor have I taught them about sexual positions, or taught a “gay agenda” or encouraged any of them to go on the pill.
To Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-38677966220580716822011-05-09T18:24:00.000+01:002011-05-09T18:24:15.935+01:00Life in Harper ValleyIf you read my twitterfeed you might have noticed some moaning about the PTA. If you pay too much attention, you will have noticed a lot of moaning about the PTA.
This all started in January when I put myself forward, or at least failed to step backwards, as Chair of the PTA. Since then, planning has lurched into events which have lurched into clearing up and then the whole cycle starts Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-79931779330803903702011-05-03T14:14:00.000+01:002011-05-03T14:14:41.688+01:00A Spotter's Guide to: Nuns.
Watching the Royal Wedding on telly, I was completely distracted by the two nuns sitting next to Wills. Random unexpected Nuns are guaranteed to make me giggle, especially when they are walking down Westminster Abbey together and one is tall and the other short - surely they could have found matching Nuns for the Royal Wedding?
I like spotting Nuns, Nunspotting is a good game. Rome was anBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-9606459426840913472011-03-25T22:14:00.000+00:002011-03-25T22:14:58.790+00:00Big Writing Follow Up Session: in which I do my correctionsThis post is supplementary to my "Big Rant about Big Writing" Post, which you may read here.
Ros Wilson has expressed concerns about my post and I want to address them here. She was unable to post her comments on my blog post personally.
Firstly, let me say that I am appreciative of Ros Wilson's offer of a Big Writing training session and of her interest in my thoughts. I was surprised Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-28529128313868542392011-03-23T00:58:00.001+00:002011-03-23T23:04:35.794+00:00Oh Dan Brown, what have you done to me?
In times of stress I used to turn to the comfort of a Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen, maybe a Jenny Colgan if the Regency period didn’t appeal. They were all quite harmless books, not at all detrimental to health and no serious side effects.
However, last year in a period which saw my concentration span collapse in the manner of earth-pea-blackhole-shrinkage, and looking for something Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-25442663497578662292011-02-20T19:08:00.077+00:002013-01-25T19:45:40.091+00:00Big Rant about Big Writing
This article has been updated since I wrote it after Ros Wilson contacted me via Twitter, I am editing the post to incorporate her comments and will state again that these are my personal views. The green text indicates changes I have made. The grounded opinions I express are simply that.
The other night I was being childish about Big Writing and its creator, Ros Wilson, on twitter. Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-65973686375615217952011-02-18T10:30:00.000+00:002011-02-18T10:30:44.996+00:00An open letter to Schoolgate Mums... with love, honest.
Hello Mum-at-the-gate!
Nice to see the sun isn’t it? Yes, dinner money was due in this week. Well, that’s the chitchat done with. Let’s get down to business.
Being a parent can be difficult, yes? It’s tiring, it’s trying and sometimes you might find yourself sat on the stairs at 2am with a blanket over your head wondering what happened to your life. What? No, that wasn’t me. It was a friend. Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-46951086982457892852011-02-14T00:27:00.000+00:002011-02-14T00:27:53.513+00:00An unromantic story for Valentine's Day.
It was February 14th 2004 and I was 8 months pregnant with our first baby. My routine midwife check that week had thrown up a worry. She thought the baby’s heart rate was a little high. So I was booked into the maternity ward to spend the morning hooked up to a fetal monitoring machine while they checked everything was ok.
Valentine’s Day was a Saturday that year and so Mrbird came with me.&Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-13961496741410490442011-01-18T21:21:00.000+00:002011-01-18T21:21:28.832+00:00Here come the Mind Twizzlers.
Free Schools have been in the offing for ages, so why am I particularly riled now?
It’s not just that Toby Young’s proposed West London Free School was in the news as a number of charities will be evicted from their premises to make way for it, although that does make me seethe. It’s not just that a large County Council has this week given its backing to Free Schools, offering to support Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-79118238820366385572011-01-17T00:31:00.001+00:002011-01-18T13:52:56.319+00:00The boy who liked to Explain Things.
This is a story about Steven. Simply because his is a story I want to tell.
Steven was in the first class I taught. He is the child mentioned in my first blog (In the beginning...) The one who used to hang from the hand dryer yelling “CROCODILE ATTACK!”
Steven was, and hopefully still is, a one off. I was warned he had behaviour issues. Which was sort of true. He meant well, but he Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-82795981913626916902011-01-13T16:45:00.000+00:002011-01-13T16:45:57.887+00:00EBac: Victorian Delivery after years of modern education?
There are so many things I don’t understand about the introduction of the English Baccalaureate it’s hard to know where to start. So, for fun, let’s assume the Gove hasn’t introduced this measure as a way to re-establish a two tier education system, that this isn’t a hopelessly naive nostalgia trip seeking to downgrade the subjects important to 21st Century life-long Birdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5355200079096965054.post-51945943733032567872010-12-22T02:53:00.000+00:002010-12-22T02:53:32.926+00:00Can I get away with a slushy one yet?I don’t believe in Soulmates. Or love at first sight. Or fate guiding you towards The One.
Imagine my annoyance then to find my time with MrBird, my husband of 9 1/2 years, falling into all those categories. I am not into romantic destinies and frankly I find the circumstances around our meeting highly irritating.
We met in a dingy nightclub that neither of us had ever been to before. Both of usBirdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11369668803904873786noreply@blogger.com6