Have I been missed at all? Just been reading some of the stuff written by a Mr John Underwood who’s writing was recommended by M. J. Banbury esq. about his cancer. He’s only been diagnosed recently and is as I write this having his head shaved. Already the tone of his writing is shifting from the initial jokey stuff that reflects the initial shock defence of it’s not really happening to the increasingly horrible realisation of not only having the crabby one but that the treatment is shit. It all changes you, I am still, and will be for a while, ‘coming to terms’ with it all. Only last night Kate was saying how she doesn’t understand why I’m not just happy that the current cancer is in abeyance, that I can no longer complain about all the bureaucratic bollocks of teaching and that the pension has almost been sorted. And apart from being a curmudgeonly, cussed, cantankerous,crabby twat I still don’t have the language to properly describe my condition and feelings.
In Porto when walking down a slope onto the crowded Ribeira riverfront I started pitching forward, I couldn’t stop myself from falling over and crashed to the ground in a very unseemly old person sort of way. Stuff tumbled out of my man bag, my sunglasses fell off and a lens popped out, grazed leg and hands. Lots of immediate concern from those nearby who helped me to my feet, but for me the horrible feeling of not even being able to stay upright (and for those that know me I had not had any alcohol), of being an old codger, of the continuing collateral damage of treatment.
I walked away, still somewhat unsteady, and reminisced about how in my younger days I had exceptional balance and physical prowess. No longer.
But in the spirit of undeterrence a few days later I joined the elder two female adolescents for a surfing lesson. I was knackered before we even began the process of how to stand on the board; what with putting on a wetsuit, carrying a big board to the sea and then doing a warm-up run, something I hadn’t done for years. I gave up after 3 pathetic attempts to stand on the board. I then waded to the beach and sat on the board for a while watching the others surf and thought.
And then, when running for a bus, Kate fell over in sympathy. Because her falling over wasn’t shown on a screen the adolescents showed little sympathy.
I developed a cough which worsened and now I have a streaming nose, have coughing and sneezing fits and worry that it’s more than just a cold. Which brings me back to my first thoughts about John Underwood; he’s just begun the process, I hope he has a long and happy life and that maybe we could have a chat someday. Just read he bailed out on becoming a skinhead.
Also notice that he’s supporting the Anthony Nolan Trust, they take blood samples from people to find their tissue type to then match people for bone marrow transplants. I worked for them for a few months, taking blood samples and ’tissue typing’, a very repetitive job. Joanna Lumley turned up one time, it was my turn to take blood but the old geezer who was nominally in charge brushed me aside to stick a needle in her.
Voted in the labour leadership earlier, Mr Jeremy of course, and Angela Eagle for deputy. It’s very entertaining watching bliar and co foaming and frothing and not engaging in any proper debate, just deriding his manifesto such as renationalisation but not putting forward any coherent arguments for the benefits of privatisation. It really is heartwarming to read and hear about Mr Jeremy proposing to take on the kleptos, the tts and others.
Kate and I really liked Porto and want to return someday, hopefully in our rompahome.
So some gentle admonishment about certain comments about education, sorry Mr Hector your nom de guerre has been cleverly figured out and words have been exchanged. What slightly saddens me is that instead of engaging in discourse by pointing out my erroneous thoughts and the like an attempt is made to silence me. I have been a teacher pretty much all my working life and I’ve witnessed and been subjected to a great deal of bollocks. I have been a classroom teacher all my career and like other classroom practitioners have never properly been involved in developing educational practice or what we actually teach. Why is that?
But now I have to develop my karma, which ‘simply means doing’ (from Alan Watts). We misinterpret karma when we say ‘that’s your karma’ because of what you’ve done before, it is not cause and effect. I have to do what I’m doing now and ‘not define myself as the result of what has gone before’.
So ineffably dubious smith has been caught out again, this time using fictitious people extolling the benefits of his new system. maybe not a resigning issue but many other reasons to petition him to go. Here’s a link to petition him to go: https://petition.parliament.uk/petitions/104436 Check it out and pass it on, you never know. When I signed I experienced a little frisson, especially with my name! Karma.
Porto for the champions league.
Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.