Teacher Appreciation Week

[Blogger tells me this is my 700th blog post. Wowser. Slow progress the last few years to get there but still a place I like to call home.]

Earlier today Lesley posted a video because it's Teacher Appreciation Week. From the video I've decided that's an American thing. Singapore has Teachers' Day in September when I got the day off. Way to make us feel appreciated Singapore! Singapore also has Youth Day…when I also got the day off (see last paragraph in this post). Wikipedia says that the UK has it (October 5 teacher friends) I wouldn't hold my breath, I've yet to see any sign of it.

But watching the video was nice because on Friday I had a lovely day. I had my final class with my senior class. I just taught them this year but regard them as my 'all stars' because they were so great. They made me a present which was worth way more than anything they could have bought me: a book full of photos and memories from teaching them.

It was actually really similar to the book my favourite class in Singapore made for me too and even though it's seven years ago in an entirely different type of school in a different country, there are signs of me being exactly the same sort of teacher…if their letters and comments are to be believed anyway.

One of the things I did with both classes (and schools) is a quote wall. Here are two of my favourite quotes with them. Both made it into their respective books.

Miss B.: (writing on the board, stops mid-sentence and turns to the class) How do you spell 'disastrous'? I think I spelt it wrong. 

C: I think you spelt 'illiterate' wrong as well.

That one made it to this blog post if you're interested. Probably not, I just like to back reference. And then this one from this year.

F: Aww Miss, is that a mince pie?

Miss B: Yeah!

F: Aww I love them!

A: Another reason to be vegetarian…

F: It's not real mince!

A: Stop! I've never eaten them because of that!

J: Can we get back to the exam please?

But the video got me thinking, what would I write to myself on my first say of being a teacher. (Actually, my very first day of being a teacher was in 2005 in the school I work in now. 'Now' makes it sound like I plan on leaving - I don't. Ever.)

Anyway, this is what I have. Not profound, but helpful all the same I think.

Dear Teacher Tina,
I know, you're actually a teacher! You did it. Don't worry, even nine years later you won't feel like you've got this game together yet. But here's the weird thing, you manage to pull it together. I know, sometimes it's like you know what you are doing.

In a few years' time you'll have to write your educational philosophy for a job application (I'll save you the worry: you don't get the job). But I'll boil our philosophy right down for you: I'm on your team; be on my team. You will teach the class as an entire entity, a unit. You won't allow for inside jokes but you will definitely laugh with your classes. A lot. Sometimes at the expense of work. You should probably try not to do that so much. There's a unofficial rule in teaching not to be sarcastic with students. Ignore that. Third years love it.

You'll like (almost) every single student you teach, even if they don't like History or Politics (or you!) and you'll work with some brilliant teachers. You'll be rubbish at marking. In fact, even as I write this letter to you now, I have a pile of essays waiting to be marked plus a whole lot of other planning to do for Tuesday. But you'll be able to start a lesson explaining something you only have the vaguest notion of when you began talking (you might want to start reading up on the English Civil War now, you know, get a head start).  

Keep going through the roughest days of teaching, because every now and then, the best days come along. And when they do, there's not a job in the world that can touch teaching.

God speed Miss B.
Love and best wishes, 
Miss B.

PS One more thing to save yourself considerable embarrassment, when you're teaching the Third Home Rule Bill c.2008 call him Andrew Bon-ner Law, not how it looks you might say it. You're welcome.

A historical rainbow

This was the second of Chris' suggestions. For reference's sake let me just remind you what Chris meant when he said 'a historical rainbow':

'A childhood anecdote, preferably one which connects into an experience which you had recently, thus bringing together the past and present together.'

Well, I have just such an experience but, to be honest, I normally wouldn't have written about this particular historical rainbow but that's also because I haven't really been writing about anything of late. But you have thrown me the challenge of writing about a historical rainbow so here my most recent historical rainbow (which by the way, is a great phrase!).

I've just recently got reacquainted with candles. I lived in a house last year where all the other girls were into candles. Meh. Just wasn't fussed on them. I think it was because it takes some restraint from me not to mess with them. Back in the Park, we used to play with them. One particular thing we used to do was pour melted candle wax onto our hands. Sure, it burned for a while but then it cooled and you got to pick the wax off. No, really, I don't know why we did it either.

Anyway, last year when I left school, a student gave me 6 big Ikea tea lights (which may be the oddest leaving present I got. Ikea candles are not pretty, they're…functional). They stayed in my storage room at my parents' for months (why yes, I have a storage room. It's my brother's old room which I have commandeered for the overflow of my stuff). When I was home just before Christmas I grabbed them and took them back up to Belfast. They sat on the coffee table, still in their cellophane, for a while until Jud came round to help me decorate my Christmas tree. Well, I say 'help'. She unpacked my Christmas lights and then went to get Chinese and by the time she was back I was done. Well, I didn't have a lot to put on, you see.

We watched Christmas movies and to add to the ambience I lit the candles as they had a vague smell of Christmas about them. Turns out I can restrain myself from messing with the wax. (Actually that's not strictly true, but I think it's important to note here the apartment block is still standing.)

Anyway, I've got so into them that I went to the Yankee Candle store after Christmas and bought some tea lights with the fragrance 'Christmas Cookie'. I like Christmas. I like Cookies. And most importantly, the colour of the wax went with my living room. I put them in the dish on the coffee table, happy with my purchase.

But then, every once in a while I got this familiar smell. It took me a few whiffs to put my finger on what it was - both where it was emanating from and what it reminded me of. Once I worked out it was the still new candles (in my defence it probably took me seconds to work this out), I worked out that the smell of this supposed Christmas Cookie was exactly the smell of Tiny Tears, my doll I got c.1984 from Santa.

Here is that very Christmas. I don't think Grandpa knew what he was doing here; I don't think you just smoosh the baby into the pram to make her fit.

See Grandpa, watch the expert: you lift her out of the pram by her armpits.

This is her now, well two years ago when I tidied all the stuff in the eaves. Here she is wearing a Bunny uniform. She didn't get as many badges as me. That was probably on account of her being not a full member.

Rainy Day Tiny Tears. By the time you get the rain…onesie(?) on you can pretty much be sure it'll have stopped raining.

I know what you're thinking, the smell of a doll that is thirty years old? But it's true. Tiny Tears has a weird sort of plastic-y smell that smells of my 1980s childhood. I don't know if it's her hair, or just the plastic, but there's a smell. Definitely not unpleasant, it just smells of Tiny Tears.

With Christmas being over, I did what any self-respecting Tiny Tears fan would do. I went back to the Yankee Candle store and bought up more Christmas Cookie candles before they were packed away for another year.

Well, who doesn't want to live amongst the ye olde leprechauns in a historical rainbow?

My view of 2012

I have neglected my blog this year. In all my years blogging, which I think you'll agree are numerous, I have never blogged so little. But today, the last day of 2012, I would like to give you my view of 2012 (this is based on the joke my parents used to make when we were 'revising'..."more like vision" they'd say. You can imagine how well that went down.

Blogging so little makes it seem like 2012 wasn't a good year. And it was, it so was.


Let's (re)view, shall we?

1. I was a vegetarian. For a whole month. One of the highlights of this was definitely Spinach Pie. 

2. I made a spaceship and made a little boy's dreams come true by picturing him with his hero.

3. I saw the stupidest car that ever lived.

4. I visited Emma in Nashville and went back to North Carolina on a mammoth one day road trip.

5. I judged a singer/songwriter contest show in Franklin, TN. (All the restaurant guests did, this wasn't based on my previous experience of CHW's Got Talent 2008).

6. I went skiing in Colorado. I heart skiing. I heart Colorado.

7. I was skiing on St. Patrick's Day - for the third time in my life, quite an achievement I'm sure you'll agree.

8. I saw where the best burger in Denver is served. Unassuming I think you'll agree. They weren't open, otherwise I might have checked the veracity of their claim.

9. I was interviewed for local TV in Denver. I don't know if they ever showed it though.

10. I went to Mile High Stadium on the day Tim Tebow's future was unclear.

11. I had a cake decorated for me celebrating my dedication to CHW. Although, also accurately points out that I have been '1986-2012 minus some'.

12. I joined the rest of the smart phone world in playing Draw Something. These are two of my favourites. I though I really got the spirit of New York and covered Ringo's career highlights accurately.

13. I went to Serbia.

14. I did some Serbian dancing. Well, it seemed only polite.

15. I drank some Serbian rocket fuel. They don't market it as that though.

16. I made cake pops. They are the ultimate in bake-faffing.

17. I saw the Olympic flame. Lots, actually. But this photo is in Belfast.

18. I went to the Olympics. Oh my goodness! I went to the Olympics and had the time of my life! At some point I'd like to blog properly about the experience.

19. For now I will say this: being in the stadium on Super Saturday was one of the best nights of my life. (The Opening Ceremony would definitely be another.)

Jessica Ennis on her lap of honour with the other heptathletes. And, why yes that is the sandpit that Greg Rutherford had just jumped into on his way to Olympic Gold. (We were much closer than this picture would make it seem.)

20. I learnt that Rhythmic Gymnastics is a lifeskill. Granted this was from the commentator in arena; he may have been biased. (Yes, rhythmic gymnastics, it wasn't all about Team GB gold medals.)

21. I rode the London Underground with Becky Adlington and the Team GB swim team .

22. In other famous swimming news from 2012, I met Ian Thorpe. 

23. I got the plane with Austin O'Callaghan. He was on his way back from the Olympics too.

24. I got a fringe. And then I grew it out. 

25. I got to go to meetings where things like this are at your place. Yes! 

26. I made beer butt chicken. And proved that life is a Friends episode.

27. I moved out. Again. And into a house where these get made...and there's spares sometimes! Yes!

28. I spent way too long looking at these blue chairs when I was waiting to hear that I hadn't broken my jaw.

29. I carved an Ulster pumpkin. It was my first pumpkin carving so I was fairly chuffed with my efforts. 

30. I saw Ben Howard live. Keep your head up, keep your heart strong.

So that's 2012. I loved it!

But like Jed would say 'what's next?'

Friday night, Saturday morning

I'm up marking. Or not marking as it happens. Honestly, marking exam papers is as much a psychological struggle as it is intellectual one.

Anyway, taking 'a break' to read my Twitter timeline I saw that Matt has made another video! This is exciting and made me 'extend my break' into blogging about it.

Matt is the guy who made a video of himself dancing around the world. Then he made another of him and lots of people dancing around the world. The third one is like the second one, except the dance moves have, by his own admission, improved.

I've used his videos in Citizenship classes and funny enough, the person who tweeted the link I saw said he uses them in Global Studies classes (he teaches in America). But, if you've never seen one, they're not educational in the traditional sense of the word.

Take a look, you'll be hard pressed not to raise a smile and feel slightly better about the world.



I want a job like that.

Bye Bear

I don't have fond memories of the launch night of Big Brother in 2004. I don't have particularly fond memories of any Big Brother launch night I suppose, but 2004 was particularly bad because that's the night my cat died. Tigger had been part of our family for 18 years. Yes, that's right she was old enough to vote so she'd had a good innings (not that I ever saw her with a cricket bat, or a voter registration form for that matter).

Little five year old Tina came home from church with her brother and dad and watched through the window of the conservatory as Dusty gave birth to one of the last of litter.

We already had a dog, Bruno, and along with Dusty we were allowed to keep one of the kittens.

Tigger won my mum over by sitting on her foot instead of the cold conservatory floor. She soon became my cat; I was her favourite and she was mine.

We're all so little!

The night she died I came home from being out and, after watching the opening night of Big Brother 5, I found her in the first throes. I wish I had looked for Tigger right when I came home like I normally did instead of being lured into a crap hyped-up television show.

Blurry shot of her, but digital photography was in its infancy when Tigger was around.

Tonight is the England - Ukraine game and no matter what the score is I won't have fond memories of it either because today Sox died.

We didn't get a cat after Tigger died. It was a deliberate decision and one that lasted a solid two years. I was in North Carolina when news reached me that my parents had befriended a stray cat that had been appearing in the garden for a while. By the time I was home a few months later Sox was well set up.

Sox didn't eat too many more meals outside after he arrived with my parents.

I didn't get to spend a whole lot of time with him until after I was back from Singapore. We were originally just acquaintances in the same shared space, but he soon won me over too. After the coal incident it took a while, but we got there. He was even allowed to sleep at the foot of my bed, a place that Tigger had also been allowed.

For a while after I was back I called him Soxopher. I like to think of it as his full name. Soon enough he became Soxybear or The Bear, or just Bear. This name came from the bear outfit my nephew wore when he was a newborn baby. Just a few months ago Johnny pointed out to me that Soxybear wasn't a bear at all and I had to tell him the why he was called this, lest he think his Cool Aunt Tina was a complete idiot when it comes to animal recognition.

There is no doubt that Soxybear was my mum's cat. I used to tease her that "My Tigger - God rest her soul" never had the same number of cat accoutrements that Soxybear had. Honest-a-patience, that cat had more things to sleep on than I do. No really. 

The Bear in his igloo.

Soxybear was a very sweet cat, with a nice personality. Our theory is that he had been abused before he arrived with my parents because he really didn't like big noises like shouting or hoovering and practically no one could touch his back legs and expect to get away with it. (Probably why he was scared of me for a while after that unfortunate coal episode.) He seemed to trust us though and I think we gave him a really good home for six years. He gave just the right amount of head butts to tell you he wanted something and purred loudly when he was pleased with life.

I'm glad my parents are the sort of people that like animals and look after them well. And I'm glad that their hearts can be melted by a stray cat because as much as right now I feel like the end of Marley and Me, I wouldn't want to be without the Soxybear in the Soxybear Years.

How I scored a bajillion cool aunt points

There are many, many reasons why I'm a super cool aunt but today I present you with just four.

1. Today is my nephew's third birthday! I had a great present for Johnny: a Buzz Lightyear costume. He likes to pretend he's Buzz Lightyear using the Mr. Potatohead Buzz Lightyear wings he has. They're about 10cm wide and he holds them on his back but that doesn't stop him. So I knew I was on a winner with an actual Buzz Lightyear costume for him.

I can't claim any points for the aid to flying, we shared this arm breaking work around.

Average aunts would stop there. Cool aunts aren't done with just buying presents, oh no.

2. I gave him a laser for his costume. Not a real one you understand, that's dangerous and costs you cool aunt points. It was one of those keyring things that help you find your car's keyhole. 

I Buzzed it up with a Star Command logo. Above average aunts would give just the keyring.

3. I made him a spaceship! Oh yes I did! I realised with his wings on he might not fit into his current rocket (a playtent tube thing, I don't know the correct term, I'm not a parent!) So I went to Play Resource, got lots of big cardboard and bits and bobs. (If this wasn't a post about my nephew I might have written 'free crap' there...) I took into consideration my brother and sister-in-law's feelings on the growing expanse of toys in their living room and made it collapsible; visitation rights are important to cool aunts.

No honestly, I've never worked for Nasa.

It's fine, it has wings here, see.

The interior (do you have spaceship 'interiors'?) You can see the moveable control panel with buttons, and the light panel, along with many space and Buzz pictures.

4. And finally, I made him a personalised card. I know what you're thinking, 'no big deal Tina, you make cards all the time for people'. (Please note: If I didn't it was because I probably ran out of time and not because I don't like you. You got a card didn't you? Then what are you complaining about?!)

But this card turned out to be the pièce de résistance of the whole thing. He opened it first and was immediately spellbound by it. Why? I'll show you why.

It's Johnny and his good friend Buzz hanging out in space, that's why!

The card brought about some of the cutest sentences I've heard. Every once in a while he'd go back to the card and tell us something about it -  "Buzz is looking after me", "I am 'appy with Buzz" or "Look at my 'appy face.

Honestly, it's hard getting all these cool aunt points. Your heart can actually melt.

From the drafts: Crafty games

This was one of the final TinaLostInSpace posts that never made it. That's because I only added the photos. No comments, no writing, no nothing...I'll do that now.

It'll probably not surprise you that I was big into crafts when I was little. Every Christmas and birthday I got something that needed me to make, create, paint, set, do. I had them all, plaster of Paris, clay, Fimo modelling clay...and these fine examples of craftiness.

Latch hook is actually quite hard to do, which is why this remains mostly undone.

The weaving loom though...

Oh yeah, half done as well.

Sylvanian Families paint by numbers is done. Actually, this was a practice one just done on paper, not the 'canvas' they give you. So what, I liked to practice my crafts.

There was something I did particularly enjoy about the things I found - the box kids. You know, the ones that demonstrate what you're supposed to do and how well they can do it (which, no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to recreate). Take these examples:

I don't know how old you have to be before you can be described as 'preppy' but I'd say that boy has reached it. (Discover Food Technology allowed to do experiments on mouldy bread and the like. You got your own petri dishes and everything.]

Oh hair, hair, hair. So big you don't notice the braces until at least the second look. (Bead and stitch, you probably had one yourself. Ahem.)

It's good to have your ribbons match your shirt and pinafore combo. (Clothes peg dolls could be the theme of a four Yorkshire (wo)men skit. Dolls? We used to dream of dolls, we used to make them out of clothes pegs. Clothes pegs? Luxury.)

I also found a few card games. Nothing was complete, except this one, The Neighbours Card Game.

It's like a version of Happy Families, you have to complete the families, which if you can't see are the Robinsons, the Mangels, the Clarkes, and the Ramseys. Proper old Neighbours like.

Well, you don't just lose your Neighbours cards, do you? 

Ah good 80s times!

From the drafts: I've got a golden ticket

[This is from June 22nd. As you might guess, I'm excited for 2012 arrive!]

____________________

The email finally telling us what we got in the Olympics came last night. I had heard rumours that if you checked your 2012 account in the early hours of the morning then you'd see what they got. I tried that, as it happens at 23.59pm and nothing. At the stroke of midnight I hit refresh and bam! There were my bloody handball tickets listed in all their glory!

Obviously I got mum to check hers immediately and I am delighted to say that she got Athletics tickets for the last night! How exciting! The night includes:

- 4 x 100m Men's Final (no baton drops in the heats Team GB, USA or Jamaica please and thank you)

- 5000m Men's Final (Mo Farah, I hope you decide to double up)

- 800m Women's Final (Jenny Meadows? Come on girl!)

So today I have been reliving some 4 x 100m action. I must have watched this about five times today. My favourite things are Steve Cram saying 'In fact it was terrible!" and Maurice Green's seriously unimpressed face during the medal ceremony. Brilliant!

Slightly concerned that Team GB don't really have many sprinters left in their prime, never mind their baton dropping. So who knows if we'll see them even make the final.

And there's this one, which lacks Steve Cram's excitement. The commentators seem slightly underwhelmed by Jamaica breaking a world record which stood since the days of Carl Lewis. So you'll have to make your own excitement of the magic of 37.10.




[December edit: I was lucky enough to receive a How to Watch the Olympics book for Christmas. It's very good, although, strangely it lists the sport as Handball, not Bloody Handball as it is referred to in our house.]

Dreaming big

Tonight, Karen Marathon* has her very first photography exhibit. It's based around her iPhone photographs, or iPhoneography, if you will. [You can see some of her work on her new website.]

I would like to take some credit for encouraging her along this photography route. Here's the proof. Not long after I wrote that we both started a GCSE in Photography. Although I didn't finish it, Karen did and will soon have a degree in Creative Imaging. Yeah, ok there's a limit to how much credit I can actually take.

Even walking down the street is like seeing inside her photography brain. She sees a class photo in something I (and let's face it, probably you) would walk right past.

Like this chair in a front yard in Studentland. I think you can see I walked past it.

Or these closed curtains. I know, really, closed curtains. But there was a great photo in that.

Yesterday I went with her to help set up the studio where the exhibit will be. It was so great to be there, it was another landmark in the journey. Karen got a lovely gift and card from someone she has inspired to follow her own adventure in photography. I nearly cried. Karen, for the record, held it together like a pro, like a pros tend to do.

Anyway, not to go all Martin Luther King on you, Karen has a dream and she's steadily working towards it.

I like it when people dream big. I like it even more when they start achieving those dreams. It's exciting!

*Tonight Karen Marathon will become Karen Photographer in my contacts. It seems only right.