Struck down

Waah. I'm sick. Not seriously. Well, kind of seriously. I've got a cold. Right now I'm at the point where you think you'll never get better and breathe like Darth Vader for the rest of your life. See, serious.

I'm not very good at being sick. I tend to talk to myself, inanimate objects and TV characters that can't hear me. I refuse to believe I'm the only one who announces thoughts like these out loud (to no one in the room):

Hello oven. Why are you still on?
I should get a drink. Where's my glass?
Hello BBC dancy people, tell us what's on next.

Sssh you. I'm sick. Seriously.

Here's a thing I learnt

I did not know until Wednesday this week that your return flight gets cancelled if you don't take the outward flight. No, really, that's a thing.

I was on a trip to Parliament, all expenses paid, thank you very much and decided to make the most of it, I'd go a day earlier than their flight (which I had no say about). 'Fine', I thought, 'I'll just get their return flight'.

That was until I went to check in. My friend (let's call him Stephen) on the course was on the same flight and had no problems checking in online. Only at his insistence did I call up the travel people to find out the problem.

So a few short hours before my flight leaves and standing in central lobby of the Houses of Parliament with James Brokenshire not too far away I make the call and discover this airline rule. Then the lady from the travel people gives me the kicker: I can be reinstated on the flight for £350. Yes, a single flight to Belfast was going to cost as much as the single flight I took to America this past summer.

I mustered all the calm from my body to say 'Hmm, ok, leave it with me and I'll get back to you'.

Thoughts of, you know, general panic ran through my mind. I wanted to cry. I was definitely not going to be paying £350 to be on that flight, but I was definitely supposed to be teaching tomorrow. What. Was. I. Going. To. Do?

All hail the smart phone. I looked up Ryanair and EasyJet flights and bit the bullet and booked myself a new flight to Belfast. If I had panicked I wouldn't have made the flight I did. If I didn't have some knowledge of London airports (the term used generously by budget airlines) then I wouldn't have known if I could make the newly booked flight from London Luton. If I hadn't had Stephen pushing me to phone up, I would have been in Heathrow with no choice but to pay the £350 to get home.

Thinking back on it, I maybe should have approached James Brokenshire for help, but he's probably got troubles enough on his own.

Artist's impression

I'm planning on writing again tomorrow but tonight my parents were round and in telling them about my week I opened my photos and remembered this one for earlier this week when I was teaching my GCSE class.

We started a new topic, the Troubles. They had a handout (that I made) that should be on my memory stick but in the moment I couldn't find it. So I recreated the photo of Terence O'Neill on their handout with stunning accuracy, I think you'll agree.





You may think I have just drawn a stereotypical smiley face man, adding the essential elements of tie, desk and hands. But that fails to appreciate my art.

The empty desks represents Catholic representatives at this time. The fat, chubby hands show the power that O'Neill had at his disposal, while the tie shows that he is ready for action. The smile shows...yeah alright I drew a stereotypical smiley face man. Sush you.

Awkward silence

So hi. How have you been?

It's 2017. Officially. All round the world in fact. The last time I wrote on my blog it was 2014. Aah. I remember it well, just like it was, well, 2-3 years ago.

It'd be rude not to mention the silence on my blog and I suppose there's a few reasons why I stopped writing on here. Primarily my life was school and I can't really write about that. Child protection and all that. And you know me, I'm a professional. (Yes, I'm sure if there was one word my students would use to describe me, it would be 'professional'.). But my life was too much about work and I didn't have time to write about it. Yet funny and meaningful stuff in my life happens in school. All. The. Time.

My other problem was Blogger making it it difficult. Photos were nigh-on impossible to easily upload and format. And I refer you to my earlier time reason (or maybe excuse, depending on your view). It took time to write this pile of anecdotes. (Or neckties as my phone just corrected it. I suppose it does take time to write neckties too. Scientists don't even quite know how long it takes.)

But I missed it. I missed writing. I missed documenting. I miss recording.

What's changed though? Why will this be different? Well, my life is less school than it was before. Maybe I'm getting better at it or maybe I care less about winging it but I think I can do this again.

But more importantly, I want to do this again. I want 2017 to be the year I look back and be glad I started blogging again.

Good luck everybody.

The world in my window

I moved house this weekend. That's a job, isn't it? My goodness. More on the new house to come (maybe). But for right now, let's celebrate the old place.

It's best summed up by what Johnny said when he and Kiera came to stay at Christmas. With their noses pressed up against the window and as the street lights from Bangor and Carrick twinkled all the way to Belfast, he said:

'Look Kiera, when you look out the window here, you can see the whole world.'

I'll miss that view.