Still sun

The excellent weather continues unabated but it is noticeable that as soon as the sun is covered by cloud it is appreciably cooler.

Such has been my exhaustion on returning from school that I have regarded the swimming pool as merely a Hockneyesque container of rippled light effects rather than a suitable repository for my body.  I fear mild heart failure if I throw myself in at present – and even the younger and hardier members of our little dysfunctional community have forsaken its liquid delights.  I fear autumn is here!

Jennifer is not now coming to Castelldefels so the moral dilemma of going out on a Thursday night and having to get up at 6.30 am the next day for an early start in school has been taken away from me. 

And her a head teacher, so she should have known the conflict of interests that going out on a weekday night means for a teacher!  Shame on her. 

And shame on me for even considering going out with the amount of booze which would have been sloshing around in that get together!

My next little outing is on Friday evening when I finally get to see Caroline for the first time in months.  We have arranged to meet in a café on the beach and we have both agreed to get there by bike.  I think that this is a sop to Protestant Puritanism where there has to be an element of pain to offset the pleasure of having a drink!  Or not. 

I must remember to get my tyres pumped up and the dynamo set properly.  I trust that you are suitably impressed with my technical wizardry and such technical terms, as “tyres” and “dynamo” – never let it be said that my expertise stopped at mere books!

I have now taught 16 lessons in three days; endured a lunchtime duty; tolerated a patio (playground) duty; made scores of booklets for my courses; shared in the hysteria contained in the staffroom; traipsed from one building to another on 10 occasions to get from one lesson to another; been Stephen 2 (the nasty one) for hours at a time; despaired about getting through the rest of the term, let alone the whole bloody year.  And yes, I seem to be moaning again.

So let’s add to the misery by reporting that Toni’s leg doesn’t seem to be responding with any alacrity to the medication that he is taking.  The latest approach is for him to go back to the doctor’s on Friday and then be sent for some sort of therapy somewhere.  There is still no estimate of how long he is going to be waddling around on crutches.  This is not good.

Still on the positive side we have not closed the window in the living room since some time in June.

Ah!