Welcome! You have found the home of 'Being Me', Fran Hill's blog. Please browse my posts and if you like what you read, you'll enjoy my book 'Being Miss' which you can order from my website or on Amazon. My next book 'Miss, What Does Incomprehensible Mean?' will be published by SPCK Publishing in 2020. My website is at www.franhill.co.uk. Come and visit for more Fran info!
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Reasons why I may take the long route to work tomorrow
So, I was walking to school, trogging along the path in my frumpy middle-aged way, loaded down with a rucksack full of marking, planning and a Very Big Packed Lunch sheaf of report-writing, and feeling as supple and flexible as a recent corpse. What's more, it was windy, and that all added to my struggle.
And, as I lolloped down the path, who should I see ahead of me, actually ON my path and blocking my way?
Well, imagine two of these.....
.... wearing some of this ....
... only in pink ...
and you'll have an accurate picture of the two size-0 women, hermetically sealed in Lycra, who were doing early morning exercises in the park, bending and stretching themselves into such impossible positions that I actually wondered if they were melting.
Well, I thought, as I approached them. Any minute now they, as youthful and fit and flexible as they are and I aren't, will move aside and let me pass so that I don't have to change course and struggle up onto the grass verge just to get past them.
But no. They carried on doing their impressions of elastic bands while I walked past, huffing and puffing under the weight of my sandwiches marking, and trying not to think, as I passed them, that juxtaposition of this kind did me no favours at all when I am walking to work and needing to Feel Good in order to face the day ahead. Is this, I thought, how hippos feel when walking past the flamingo enclosure?
I got into school and it all became so much worse. A caretaker said to me as I walked down the corridor, 'Still windy out there, then?' 'Yes, yes,' I said, conversationally, thinking how nice it was to chat to someone about the weather. Then I passed a mirror and saw the state of my hair.
All this, before 8am. Is it a cruel world, or is it a cruel world?
Okay, so they're not the real thing, and only there because I had to have two fillings and therefore a shedload of anaesthetic enough to numb a herd of wildebeest. But just for a few hours, as I sit here, just returned from the dentist, my lips feel deliciously Massive.
And they only cost me £36. I bet celebrities pay a LOT more than that.
When I got on the bus back from the dentist, I had to speak to the bus driver, of course. And my lips felt so big, like two barrage balloons top and bottom, that instead of saying, 'Single to Leamington, please,' I said, 'Smibble doo Lebbyt…
This is a scene from a novel I hoped to get published. But I've moved on now and am writing another book which will be published in 2020. Watch this space!
I really like the scene, though. So I thought I'd let you read it, rather than having it fester on my laptop.
Enjoy! It's very much based on my personal experience, and it's a scene that's played out in real life in many, many classrooms across the country. And perhaps the world.
Setting: a secondary school classroom, England. Friday afternoon. Characters: an English teacher and her class
The pupils, as they did every
week at this time, drifted from all corners of the school, in spits and spots
like a gradual, hesitant build-up of rain. They
seemed weary, as did their end-of-the-week uniforms, which drooped and slouched
on their bodies as if drained of life.Indeed, some of their blazers had died and slidden off their bodies like
thin corpses, hanging now from the ends of their fingers. Several pupils had
Or, as my 5 year old granddaughter might put it, 'They've tooken away my bus.'
I'll get back to the bus in a moment.
You've got to love junior grammar. It's not until they're about 7 or 8 that they've fully grasped irregular verb endings. So, she's still saying things like 'I talkid to the man' or 'I rided my bike and wented to the park where I eated my icecream.'
Who can blame her? It's an unjust world of irregular verbs. You emerge from the womb. You learn the verb 'to eat'. You hear someone say, 'I wouldn't have minded. You think, 'Hey, so, mind becomes minded in the past tense. This means that, on the end of verbs, if you want the past tense, you use -ed. I'm going to have a go. Hey, Ma. I eated my dinner.'
'No, dear. It's not eated. It's ate.'
Okay, try this one, Ma. I heard someone say they walked in the garden. So, sometimes the 'ed…