There is something very tempting in pushing in the dagger just a few inches more!
Character assassination is such a morish activity once you get started and I am grateful that I finished my lunch before we could really get going. It is always pleasant to flirt with an activity that is generally despicable and to leave before ones hands get too soiled. It is too easy for a general discussion about a common irritation to turn into a shark-like feeding frenzy!
I only half understood what was going on because the conversation was in a mixture of English and Spanish but you can’t mistake attitude!
The examination season has now officially opened (again!) and the flood of marking is beginning to mount up. As fast as we are invigilating examinations so are we writing them. Today I used my free afternoon to write questions for the equivalent of the sixth form. Part of the paper that I wrote was made up of sentences into which appropriate words and phrases have to be put. This is one thing that I have always enjoyed doing. Although my sentences were never short, they always managed to get good marks. Indeed the high point of my academic career was being accused of cheating and being told that I was supposed to have made the sentences up myself and not copied them from a book! It’s just a pity that I peaked in form 3!
God knows if the kids are going to understand some of the sentences I’ve written, but they should understand enough to put in the right word if they have studied in the right way.
I have yet to understand what constitutes studying in our school. The kids, through constant practice, have developed a technique to deal with the way that examinations are set in our place. They allow, as far as I can tell, one evening to ‘study’ a subject. They retain a fair amount of information, all of which seems to be jettisoned as soon as the examination paper is completed! It’s learning Jim; but not as we know it!
I have one paper to mark at the moment which will soon be joined by four others. At the moment there is no talk of when the marks need to be collated; but any day now the management will suddenly say that everything must be done by “tomorrow” and there will be wild panic, with me laughing (hollowly) in the background, trying to keep the hysteria out of my chuckle!
I tried to get at least some of my marking done after I had completed the sentences etc for the exam but I rapidly found myself loosing the will to live as I looked at increasingly bizarre formulations of what elements my pupils think comprise a typical English sentence!
It is a fascinating fact that whatever level of incompetence pupils reach, displaying as they sometimes do a woefully inadequate level of English expression and gaining abysmally low marks, if you dare include in an examination a word which you have not previously explained there is a torrent of objection. They may not be able to define or use the words which they agree that you have explained, but their radar is so highly attuned that they can spot a ‘ringer’ word instantly. What confuses me is that this recognition, if tweaked just a fraction, could surely be the way that they improve their marks immeasurably. I used that last word as that is the sort of word that their examinations love.
In my small survey of the examinations that have crossed my path since I have been in the school I have come to the conclusion that the Cambridge Examination system has an unhealthy predilection for the word “shabby” and, true to form, it was included in the first examination of the “season!”
The bike has been used. After a strenuous session using plastic ties to secure the cladding on the front gate to obstruct the view of lewd fellows of a baser sort from getting avaricious ideas about the opulent riches stored in the house, I sallied forth to start the new regime of bike exercise.
Riding into the setting sun along the paseo on the beach was, as it should be, stimulating and inspiring – and very, very cold. I need a little woolly hat and a pair of gloves if the future rides are to be anything but sensual torture!
I did feel very virtuous as I rode along, though I have to admit that all the other cyclists that I passed seemed to be working at a very much higher level than I was and they all looked miserable.
I was very impressed by how quiet my bike is. It is a stealth bike and I was able to ride up to walkers and have them jump a little when they realized that I was lurking behind them on my silent wheels. After a while it became a little unnerving as previously I have been used to that comforting clicking sound which I always used to think was an essential part of the riding experience.
With the enthusiasm of the recently converted I rode right to the end of the paseo and then realized with some excitement that I might have to use my dynamo.
My bike did not come with a Users’ Manual, probably based on the idea that what you did was sit on the thing and pedal away: what more is there to know? Well, one of the things is how to turn on the dynamo.
I could see quite clearly that there was a little plastic thingie with a knurled bit to go against the wheel and rotate, thus producing electricity to cause the light to blaze into action. All previous attempts with the first bike to get the thing to work failed utterly and I had to go back to the dealer and ask how to set it up. The dealer didn’t know at first and it was only after extensive consultation that he explained the trick.
That explanation I had forgotten. And no amount of prodding, pushing and twisting would get the knurled wheel anywhere near the tyre.
It was only after a frustrating period of silent teeth gnashing that I pushed something instead of pulling and the whole dynamo unit lurched towards the rubber.
Elated I leapt onto the saddle and pedalled away furiously and was gratified to see light blaze forth from the front lamp for all of fifteen seconds and then the sounds changed from an electricity producing whine to a darkness inducing clunking sound. I think that more adjustment is called for. But tomorrow and over the weekend and not now!
Tomorrow is Friday, though god knows what day it actually feels like given the confused nature of the week so far.
At least this weekend I do not have to go into school for some fatuous meeting on a Saturday morning!
Shame! Shame!
Character assassination is such a morish activity once you get started and I am grateful that I finished my lunch before we could really get going. It is always pleasant to flirt with an activity that is generally despicable and to leave before ones hands get too soiled. It is too easy for a general discussion about a common irritation to turn into a shark-like feeding frenzy!
I only half understood what was going on because the conversation was in a mixture of English and Spanish but you can’t mistake attitude!
The examination season has now officially opened (again!) and the flood of marking is beginning to mount up. As fast as we are invigilating examinations so are we writing them. Today I used my free afternoon to write questions for the equivalent of the sixth form. Part of the paper that I wrote was made up of sentences into which appropriate words and phrases have to be put. This is one thing that I have always enjoyed doing. Although my sentences were never short, they always managed to get good marks. Indeed the high point of my academic career was being accused of cheating and being told that I was supposed to have made the sentences up myself and not copied them from a book! It’s just a pity that I peaked in form 3!
God knows if the kids are going to understand some of the sentences I’ve written, but they should understand enough to put in the right word if they have studied in the right way.
I have yet to understand what constitutes studying in our school. The kids, through constant practice, have developed a technique to deal with the way that examinations are set in our place. They allow, as far as I can tell, one evening to ‘study’ a subject. They retain a fair amount of information, all of which seems to be jettisoned as soon as the examination paper is completed! It’s learning Jim; but not as we know it!
I have one paper to mark at the moment which will soon be joined by four others. At the moment there is no talk of when the marks need to be collated; but any day now the management will suddenly say that everything must be done by “tomorrow” and there will be wild panic, with me laughing (hollowly) in the background, trying to keep the hysteria out of my chuckle!
I tried to get at least some of my marking done after I had completed the sentences etc for the exam but I rapidly found myself loosing the will to live as I looked at increasingly bizarre formulations of what elements my pupils think comprise a typical English sentence!
It is a fascinating fact that whatever level of incompetence pupils reach, displaying as they sometimes do a woefully inadequate level of English expression and gaining abysmally low marks, if you dare include in an examination a word which you have not previously explained there is a torrent of objection. They may not be able to define or use the words which they agree that you have explained, but their radar is so highly attuned that they can spot a ‘ringer’ word instantly. What confuses me is that this recognition, if tweaked just a fraction, could surely be the way that they improve their marks immeasurably. I used that last word as that is the sort of word that their examinations love.
In my small survey of the examinations that have crossed my path since I have been in the school I have come to the conclusion that the Cambridge Examination system has an unhealthy predilection for the word “shabby” and, true to form, it was included in the first examination of the “season!”
The bike has been used. After a strenuous session using plastic ties to secure the cladding on the front gate to obstruct the view of lewd fellows of a baser sort from getting avaricious ideas about the opulent riches stored in the house, I sallied forth to start the new regime of bike exercise.
Riding into the setting sun along the paseo on the beach was, as it should be, stimulating and inspiring – and very, very cold. I need a little woolly hat and a pair of gloves if the future rides are to be anything but sensual torture!
I did feel very virtuous as I rode along, though I have to admit that all the other cyclists that I passed seemed to be working at a very much higher level than I was and they all looked miserable.
I was very impressed by how quiet my bike is. It is a stealth bike and I was able to ride up to walkers and have them jump a little when they realized that I was lurking behind them on my silent wheels. After a while it became a little unnerving as previously I have been used to that comforting clicking sound which I always used to think was an essential part of the riding experience.
With the enthusiasm of the recently converted I rode right to the end of the paseo and then realized with some excitement that I might have to use my dynamo.
My bike did not come with a Users’ Manual, probably based on the idea that what you did was sit on the thing and pedal away: what more is there to know? Well, one of the things is how to turn on the dynamo.
I could see quite clearly that there was a little plastic thingie with a knurled bit to go against the wheel and rotate, thus producing electricity to cause the light to blaze into action. All previous attempts with the first bike to get the thing to work failed utterly and I had to go back to the dealer and ask how to set it up. The dealer didn’t know at first and it was only after extensive consultation that he explained the trick.
That explanation I had forgotten. And no amount of prodding, pushing and twisting would get the knurled wheel anywhere near the tyre.
It was only after a frustrating period of silent teeth gnashing that I pushed something instead of pulling and the whole dynamo unit lurched towards the rubber.
Elated I leapt onto the saddle and pedalled away furiously and was gratified to see light blaze forth from the front lamp for all of fifteen seconds and then the sounds changed from an electricity producing whine to a darkness inducing clunking sound. I think that more adjustment is called for. But tomorrow and over the weekend and not now!
Tomorrow is Friday, though god knows what day it actually feels like given the confused nature of the week so far.
At least this weekend I do not have to go into school for some fatuous meeting on a Saturday morning!
Shame! Shame!
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