Monday, 21 December 2020

My Kid Looks Like One of the Partridge Family

 If you are a regular reader of this blog, please excuse my absence of late. I have been studying like a woman possessed, so I hope I have retained some information. The subject is Managing the Learning Environment. The suggestions and theories appear to be useful, and focus on maintaining dignity and respect for both the learner and the teacher. Gone are the days when you would have to quickly duck a flying blackboard duster that had been hurled by an angry teacher with force sufficient to decapitate its intended victim. If you were quick enough avoid the missile, you sustained whiplash in the ducking process.

After I have posted here, I am going to fold the washing and iron a few items, and then study some more. ROCK AND ROLL!!!!! <makes the recognised heavy metal gesture of fist with pinkies and thumbs signifying the beast's horns>

Is anybody really ready for Christmas this year? My youngest still has Christmas shopping to do. He's been growing his hair and taken to parting it in the middle, and today it occurred to me whom he resembles: David Cassidy as Keith Partridge.  I still have a few token items to purchase for his older brother, who is somewhat more sedate with his hair and looks nothing like Keith Partridge.  I will have to get a Christmas playlist happening. If you know me well, you will know my favourite Chrissy choons are:

1. Rockin' Christmas by Ol' 55. I just love this song. I guess it's because it takes me back to my childhood. Songs that evoke childhood and nostalgia are a joy. 

2. Merry Christmas by Slade - Noddy Holder has a head like a butcher's block and a voice that sounds like it's being dragged over shards of glass, and charisma by the bucketful. I loved Slade when I was a kid and still crank them up. 

3. How to Make Gravy by Paul Kelly. This is not a cheery tune, but it is very poignant and Paul Kelly has a way of delivering that could melt a polar cap. I was rostered to work last Christmas and the song came on the radio as I was driving between clients. I guess I was thinking about people who are away from family at Christmas and that it's the anniversary of my father's death (not on the 25th, but in the Christmas period), and my vision blurred with the tears. 

I don't know if I will watch Love, Actually this year. I know it's narky of me, but I do get the irrits with the implausible and preposterous vignette plots. I don't buy that a bunch of hot American chicks are going to just drop everything and come over to England with this dorky bloke because he has the same kind of accent as Prince William. Also, I just to scream at the Laura Linney character to turn off her frigging phone, let the carers in the home look after her brother, and shag that Karl guy's brains out. 

Anyway, the washing awaits. Along with a fruit cake I baked this morning in a fit of Martha Stewart-like domesticity. 

If I don't blog beforehand, Merry Christmas to you all. 

No comments:

Post a Comment