Just a phase I'm going through…

Ahem…

Yes, well, that was a waste of 12 days! Still, my doctor now recognises me, my sickness record is well and truly shot to pieces, but I’ve saved some money on travel. My sofa and I have never had so much quality time together, and I’ve never been out of the house so little in All My Born Days.

Normal service is resuming, though. A little removing of the dust and cobwebs, a little hoovering, a little cleaning of the toilets has taken place… Scrabble opponents are muttering darkly about being beaten again… (“I’ll tell the doctor you’re  really, really not well, I’ve just won three games in a row.” offered one opponent after the first dreadful appointment where I was all ready to change doctor. Things improved on the second visit, thankfully. This surgery is within walking distance but  also on a direct bus route when I’m not well. Which, on the whole, is my state when I require a doctor. But, then I plan my life around the Number 11 bus.)

However, I do not wish to over-do things and give myself a relapse. (As happened with the Great Flu Dramas of 2008/09 and 1990.) So, I’m sitting quietly, (when not blogging, checking the whole of the Internet, replying to the pile of e-mails that has accumulated, ) with a pile of hymn books, contentedly adding to my Index of Indices. I did bits of it somewhere in those 12 days, but I can attest to being so much better as I’ve added over 300 hymns this morning, whereas I was averaging 20 or so, then needing an hours nap. Admittedly, today I am tackling a book that is in alphabetical order, and with lots of hymns that don’t have alternative titles, so am kind of speeding along the spreadsheet column with ease. Two days ago, it was also alphabetical order, but with loads of alternative titles. Maybe it was a bit over-ambitious to  go for a seasonally arranged book when Not At All Well. It also took a couple of hours to untangle the messes created by inserting cells and not rows…

I’ve also got ammunition for my students who are grumbling madly about having to work with spreadsheets – I keep telling them they are beautiful, and they don’t believe me.  Never mind, they’ve had a fortnight off me and my inanities, it’s back to normal tomorrow!

But, for today, I will continue with the quality time with my sofa.

One of the few things I do catch up with on iPlayer is the bi-annual BBC Young Musician of the Year competition. Probably 2010 was one of the few years I missed the whole competition, since it began in 1978. I think that may have been the year it was shifted to BBC 4, and I just didn’t register it had happened – no matter, I’m back on track with it this year.

Back in the beginning, it was what kept me inspired to keep practising, kept me believing I could get better – though, well aware that as a late-starter, comparatively, as a musician, I was never going to get to the required standard (if memory serves me correctly, at that time, it was Grade 8 with Distinction. The current rules state Grade 8 with no mention of classification.) to even think about entering the competition, let alone be that good! However I’ve since passed Grade 8 on all my three instruments as an adult, and am getting back to where I was after a enforced few years without access to a piano, and when I first left uni, I earned my way as a music teacher, church organist, school pianist and accompanist for non-piano playing teachers for their exam candidates. I used the competition as inspiration for my own pupils, and on at least two occasions, organised trips to concerts where past winners were playing locally. No, none of my pupils ever got to that kind of stage either, but they learned a lot!

In the intervening years, I watched out of interest, I was always pleased to note I rarely got it wrong as to who was going through to the next round in the various categories, though not always correct as to the over all winner. I had occasional wistful moments of wondering what my life would’ve been like if I’d stayed as a working musician, though no regrets. I continued to play for church, and occasionally for schools if they needed a pianist.

Most recently, I’ve been working with teenagers of the opposite end of the spectrum. I think I may have deliberately missed out on 2010 as the contrast between those I work with and those who appear in the competition was much too strong… My students struggle with basic numeracy and literacy, with social skills, with basic day to day living.

However, this year, as I’ve been much more relaxed about many things, I’ve not been hiding the musical side of myself at work. It began last year, when I was timetabled into a room with a piano in it! (For an English lesson… ) With two students who were drawn to it like a magnet. Like many, they’d taught themselves to pick out tunes they knew, but had neither access to piano lessons, or a supportive home life. We struck a deal. If they completed their English work, I would start to teach them a little more, and would play for them occasionally as they worked at their English.

This year, I have different students, but for whom music has also been very important. It’s been the best way of helping them learn to respect other people’s ideas, tastes, views – and that they might like something new! It’s helped two young men to articulate ideas, it’s helped calm others. We’ve introduced each other to music that we like, learnt to listen to the choices of others, and it’s been great. Far more importantly, they are all just beginning to realise there is so much more to them as people than the “failures” they have been throughout their school lives, and that they don’t have to be limited to education as defined by their skills in numeracy and literacy.

So, I’m watching to see who wins the BBC  Young Musician of the Year this year – and will be showing some of it to my own students during the next few weeks. No, none of us will ever be there, but we will enjoy it! I will also be saying to my students at the end of this year that they have worked just as hard, and achieved just as much in their own ways as these young musicians., and I’m every bit as proud of them for it. If not more so!

It’s the only sensible place to be on a wet, miserable Bank Holiday Monday. As a result, I’ve finally done something I’d been wanting to do for a while – watch the last two Harry Potter films as a whole. I do enjoy the books more than the films, but have enjoyed most of the films, with one exception, in their own right. Also, providing I’ve not read the books recently and have the details in my mind again.

Happy Easter, by the way, to those who are celebrating, and hope Holy Week is going well for those still going through it.

Holy Week was a good experience, on the whole. The bits I was less convinced by were matters of personal preference, rather than incompetence, so I’m not going to dwell on them. Though, I’ve made a note to myself for next year that I am a Dawn Vigil and Eucharist kind of person, not Vigil on Saturday night, and Eucharist the next day.  I’ve probably caused confusion by turning up to most services during the week (I was one of four or five who did so) and am now on smiling/saying “Hello” terms with a few more members of the congregation. I’m happy to leave it that way, though will try going to coffee after the service. I think three months of avoiding it is long enough! Or not… I shall see.

Tomorrow, regardless of the weather, I’m taking myself off out! Not sure where yet, but out. Not having been anywhere but home or church for the last ten days, apart from a supermarket trip, cabin fever is just beginning to set in!

You know, getting pregnant and giving birth would’ve been quicker than the process of getting this sitting room decorated!!

What started out nine months ago as a “Keep Japes Occupied” exercise over the summer when work dropped to half time hours until the new academic year began,  looks like being completed tomorrow. If I’d not decided yesterday to re-do the ceiling, it could’ve been finished today, but all I’ve got to do tomorrow are the skirting board, the door frames and the meter cupboards.Yes, for some bizarre reason, both gas and electricity meters have their own little cupboards in a room that is, ooooh, 11 feet by 12 feet at most. They do add to the awkwardness of this room!

Still, I remind myself that there has been major structural work done in this room and it’s a much nicer place to be, as a result. I also remind myself I am away from home for long hours, and work in what can be a physically, mentally and emotionally demanding job, and I’ve done a much better job of the decorating as a result of insisting I only do it when I’m home on weekdays, rather than wearing myself out by working on it every Saturday.

It’s also been good to have the discipline of knowing I’ve been going out to the  Holy Week Eucharists at church every evening, so I’ve had to stop and get cleared up, when I might’ve been tempted to keep going… and again, do a poor job because I was rushing.

So, tomorrow should see this job completed, and the ground floor of my home restored to order, just in time for the Triduum. Which was the plan.

For I am now on holiday for the next 16 days. I nobly did all the laundry on my return home, cleaned and sorted out the backpack before flinging its contents into the Large Box With Lid To Hide All Work Related Items, and did a couple of admin jobs before I forgot about them (including checking my on-line pay slip to see what the discrepancy was + resolving that mystery to my satisfaction. It will  added on next month’s pay – I was more concerned I’d not been paid for the extra I did pre-inspection.)

So, until some get up and go returns to me, (and I’m perfectly happy if it doesn’t) I shall remain on the sofa, moving only for essential needs and wants.

Now, for the next 16 days I refuse to contemplate

• the joys of commuting
• the 16 -19 year old of the species (I’m very fond of them, and I enjoy my job, but we need a break from each other!)
• any aspect of my work environment

I am so thankful I’d already decreed I was having the whole of the Easter break as annual leave, because right now, I’m about as exhausted and wiped out as I’ve ever been in my life, but still tottering on until the end of next week.

Educational Establishment Inspection is all over and done with, and as an added bonus, I’ve also had my annual appraisal, and remarkably we seem to have come out with the same “good with outstanding features” grading. It was a more  interesting appraisal process than last year, and I got a lot of commendation for my realistic view of life!

I am thoroughly enjoying what passes for normal!

to ask for your prayers and sympathy for the upcoming Ofsted. (Inspection of the educational establishment in which I work.)

Hopefully, next weekend,  a more normal life will resume.

I really chose the wrong year to give up chocolate for Lent.

The wallpapering, that is. Getting the old wallpaper off had taken up far more time and energy than I’d thought it would, and it didn’t get finished before I went back to work after Christmas- and I’d not been inclined to do it on any of the last five Saturdays for one reason or another. Sundays I refuse to do such things, and I’ve been testing out New Church properly, anyway.

This is a great relief. I’m not going to start painting over it yet, as I want it to settle and dry properly, and I’d rather be painting in the warmer weather anyway, but it does feel like the end of the decorating is in sight, as that just leaves the glossing to finish. Which may well be the summer’s weekdays not in work project! (Only one day a week this summer, though.) So, only a year later than planned!

I am exceptionally pleased with myself, because not only did I manage to get it all done this morning, I got a huge chunk of the half-termly thorough cleaning session done this afternoon as well, leaving only the kitchen to do tomorrow. This also means I’ve probably got a bit more free time for the rest of the half-term break than I’d planned.

So, once the kitchen is restored to a hygienic state, the ironing done, and the month’s Big Shop is complete, I am a free Japes, apart from the two days in work, until next Monday. I am going to the “Lost in Lace” exhibition later in the week, before it finishes, with a friend who is very interested in such things.  Maybe just chilling and catching up on sleep might not be a bad idea….

Work was very unexpected… I will be signing a new contract this week, which is working massively in my favour. Not something I expected at all on being summoned to meet the head of department and her sidekick. (My boss’s boss was how I described it to my students, who wanted to know where I was going, leaving a lesson five minutes early. Outrageous behaviour.)

So, I’m staying put until a more ideal job comes along, and as I’ve no clue what that is, I’m taking this as a Sign I’m in the right place, doing the right thing for now. I’d been half heartedly job hunting, as I do want to have a job closer to home, but maybe this is how it’s meant to be.

Then, yesterday dealt me the interesting blow of a problem in the roof space, one that I don’t think is going to be solved easily or quickly. I think it’s been a problem for a long time… then there was the frozen pipe, but I’ve learnt my lessons very well there, and with the help of three hot water bottles and a hairdryer, that one was solved.

It being Education Sunday (no, I’d not really heard of it either, but it exists) we were in the interesting situation of being a very full church, lots of children, teachers and parents from the church primary school, with very few regulars. I was moved to think it was just as well, as there really wouldn’t have been enough seats otherwise… I may have gone to the Quakers next door in that case! I was charmingly entertained by a beautifully well behaved toddler, who responded well to smiles, and peek-a-boo when it was all getting too boring up front… I think I have a new friend. The intercessions were entirely predictable – prayers for teachers and pupils in schools and universities. I prayed fervently for all the support staff and admin staff, of any kind,  and those in FE and higher education establishments that are not universities.

The weather has brought unexpected entertainment. Well, it was much more interesting watching cars struggle and fail along the little hill, and unexpected bend outside my house. No damaged parked cars, fortunately. Locals know not to park this end of the road, if it can be avoided, in the snow.

We won’t discuss the Rugby. I despair.

Here’s hoping the snow doesn’t freeze overnight. I’d rather work this week, than have to make up hours during half term! I’ve got plans for half term!!

ALERT – this is me thinking out loud, which may not be  a good idea, as I can go round in circles, and confuse myself and others. This post may also get deleted, or I may not react well to comments! You have been warned.

After a long, somewhat depressing conversation with a best friend last night, I am horrified to discover a few things I am deeply not happy about.

One of the things I’ve been finding most difficult over the last couple or years or so is the treatment I’ve been getting  as a single person in the churches I’ve gone to. It would seem that people turning up on their own to church are deeply confusing. I’ve got a long, long list of some pretty inept comments, and attitudes from churches who do pride themselves on being inclusive and welcoming.  I don’t think I go in with a bad attitude, but I’ve often got one by the time I’ve left. I used to be very confident about walking into a strange church and settling in. In fact, I’ve never had to go round churches to find one, wherever I’ve moved to, and I’ve moved a lot. I was always welcomed, and made part of the “family” . But, then in those days, I could do much voluntarily, and when I couldn’t it was understood why I couldn’t.  Now, I work long hours, and commute quite a distance, and have neither time nor energy to offer, I’m brushed to one side and ignored. When I do have time, things have ground to a halt, (I’m horrified at how tied to school terms churches are, and how anything I could get to or do stops in the school holidays.) So, now I’m very wary, and keep myself to myself. From preferring small friendly congregations I can be a part of and contribute to, I’m finding  large ones I can hide in, and slip in and out at either end of services without being noticed far preferable.

My friend suggested to me that what I’ve been experiencing is nothing other than she had been getting all her life in church as a single, competent woman. I was deeply puzzled, as  I have always regarded myself as single for my whole adult life, so why this sudden change of attitude that I’ve been encountering. I’d been blaming myself totally, (for I freely admit I was not at my best for the first year or so) and beating myself up for not being more sociable, more out-going. It could only be my fault I was finding church so hard because churches had not changed, had they?… BUT… After further conversation with best friend, however, it would appear others have not regarded me as single apart from for the last 2.5 years. (when the difficulties started) OK, so I’ve not been married, or in the kind of committed relationship with anyone else that would cause others to regard me as unavailable but I have spent  20 years as a  member of a religious community, 14 of those in life vows. No, I did not regard myself as available if the right man happened by, but I didn’t regard myself as married either.

It’s a sad fact but I’m not that keen on revealing the fact I’ve just revealed. I’m mostly hoping people skim past it, and  move onto more interesting things. But no, they grind to a mental halt, and insist on interrogating me… What, why and how.  As they did for those 20 years. Then the question were about why I chose that way of life. now they are about why did I leave….

A quick ring round of various single friends confirmed my suspicions.  As a member of a religious community, I did not count as single. I was safely part of a group, and therefore not a problem I was clearly identifiable from the moment I stepped into the church. As a single person now, who is much more anonymous, I am a Problem to be solved, a person to be watched, someone to be given Things to Do because I have time, as a single person has no responsibilities. (So, just who exactly does my housework/gardening/finances/shopping if I don’t?) I am a dangerous person who might be after any single man or woman. Or I might be in need of introducing to someone because I don’t want to be single, do I? (Um… yes, I do. If the right person was to arrive in my life, I would change my mind, but for now single suits me fine…)

Or I might be like Adoha, in Rev, fixated on the vicar. Please, I’ve spent way too much time around the church and seen the worst.

Children are to be avoided now, because I might be grooming them, or preying on them. I occasionally ponder bringing my vast collection of enhanced CRB or Disclosure Scotland pieces of paper with me to church every week. Whereas, once upon a time, I’d be surrounded by them in church, because as Sister Japes, I was a safe adult. To be fair, I also don’t want to be involved with children’s or youth work, as I spend my working week with teenagers who are draining. But, it hurts that I have concluded I don’t get involved any more with the odd stray child wandering past, as I used to.

Then, turning up to most services to pray is also regarded as odd for a single, lay person. I’m used to praying with people every day, twice on Sunday and occasionally in the week is not a lot after 20 years 4/5 times a day, 6 days a week. I’ve got a reasonable routine on my own, but it’s not the same.

Sighs… not sure where I go from here. I need to think about it all more. I do think I’ve found somewhere that will be OK, but if it gets too family orientated I may need to slip out for a while. I have found a kind of alternative prayer group which I can slot in and out of. Hopefully, just acknowledging it all may help shift things mentally.