Showing posts from January, 2014

Evidence that a typo isn't always a bad thing

What if someone suggested a programme idea about education to the TV executives but it all went wrong because of a typo?  Imagine what we'd end up watching. Cough, Young Teachers - a blend of a contemporary programme about education with a costume drama sub-plot in which, one by one, each of six new teachers contracts consumption, beginning with tiny little coughs in Episode 1 and ending up with them all, in Episode 6, bed-ridden with yellow eyes, but still marking books into the small hours and planning lessons for the following day's observation from senior management. Despite a temperature of 120 degrees, the choice was 'go into school' or 'plan six lessons' worth of cover and organise someone to cover two duties'.    Touch Young Teachers - a cross between the Benny Hill Show and a programme about graduates on the TeachFirst programme.  Whatever happens in the actual programme is irrelevant, because it all ends with six teachers dashing r

Reasons why the staff at the A & E department might not be too thrilled to see Fran again

Snippets from the last 24 hours ... the story of Leg-gate continued from yesterday's blog post ... 1. I got told at the A & E Department last night that the reason I had leg pain might be a thrombosis, or it might be a Baker's cyst, something that starts behind the knee and can rupture, causing pain down the calf.  'Do you get Baker's cysts from eating too many flapjacks or chocolate cake?' I wanted to ask.  But it didn't seem the right moment.  Anyway, the doctor might have said, 'In your case, most probably.  In most people's cases, it's a fluctual swelling that occurs in the popliteal space.  Now, are you going to shut up and let me examine this leg or not?' 'Oi, you!' said the baker.  'Who said you could take my cyst?' 2. I am so immature in formal situations.  I managed to keep a straight face when the A & E booking-in clerk said, 'Who's your next of kin?' even though I think 'next of kin'

Reasons why Fran's classes are probably right now wiping away tears with their blazer sleeves

So, here I am at home, writing this, when I should be at school, writing 'Persuasive devices used in advertising' on the whiteboard.  I am sure, right now, the class is saying, 'Oh, how we wish Miss was here. She is such a ray of sunshine in our dull lives and we love learning about persuasive devices.  Let us start a petition to make sure she's back on Monday when we're due to start studying possessive apostrophes.' My left lower leg is swollen up and painful.  Something's been wrong with it for a little while but yesterday it got much worse.  I hauled myself around the school corridors putting my right leg forward and then coercing my left leg to follow after it.  This wasn't easy, because part of the problem is feeling that as I step forward, someone gets of my left calf in a vice and tries to pull it back the other way.   I know that some students in my sixth form English class are doing Sports at A level, so I asked them, as I limped around givi

Evidence that Fran has not read the book 'How Grandmas can be a good influence'

I will tell you about my proudest achievement as a Grandma so far.  Have I taught 18 month old Elijah to say 1, 2, 3?  No, although I've tried.  Have I taught him to say 'Grandma'?  No, although I've tried. Have I taught him to eat all of his vegetables?  No chance.  You'd think that spending all week persuading 11 year olds to write 'would have' instead of 'would of' and to put capital letters on names would give me plenty of practice in working miracles, but, no, the toddler-broccoli challenge will have to be left to greater mortals. What I have taught him is, when we're looking out of his living room window at passing cars, to bang on the glass like a mad thing and yell, 'OY! YOU!' Practice makes perfect.  So, the last few times I've stayed at his house, I've run him through the 'Oy! You!' routine again, just to make sure he doesn't forget.  And then, yesterday, when I spoke to him on the phone, the one thi

Evidence that one can find links between Clooney and 90 year old women if one looks hard enough

I read a newspaper this morning in which something had gone wrong with the printing of the Lonely Hearts section, meaning that none of the words were decipherable.   How cruel is that for any ladies looking for love?  Sod's law decrees that it would be today that THIS man places his advert ... 'Male, George Clooney lookalike -  6 feet tall - clean-shaven - Mills & Boon chin - Greco-Roman chiselled facial features -  muscles that ripple like a pond -  likes wining and dining women at Michelin star restaurants -  millionaire with yacht moored in the Seychelles -  hobbies include telling women how beautiful they are even though they're a bit plump and menopausal - WLTM anyone really, generally not fussy, not even bothered if you haven't shaved your legs or done your roots or cleared out your make-up bag for months ...' .... and on that ONE day, the printing gets messed up, and you go away disappointed to watch your Oceans Thirteen video for the fifth time th