Two emails

Well, here’s the Life Christmas tree. Mr Life nobly did his stuff (aided by Daughter 2) with a saw and electricity and water – not the best combination for a man who had already erected his mother-in-law’s tree and now had a sore back and a desire to sit and watch “Scrubs” on tv. However, he lived to tell the tale. Three cheers for Mr Life!

Excuse my boasting (I don't get much opportunity really) but I got a lovely email from the mother of one of my students the other day. Further education teachers don’t have much contact with students’ parents – no nice hand-made-by-mum cookies for us - and this really made my day/week/term. After writing that his high school had been a bit unsatisfactory, she finished her email,

In contrast, he comes home from your English class full of enthusiasm and with a very positive attitude towards the English coursework which is markedly different to last year. He now knows that he CAN work to the standard required and, in our opinion, this change in attitude is entirely because of your teaching!

Once again, many thanks for being so good at what you do.

The result will be, of course, that I shall make even more strenuous efforts to be interesting and stimulating and get him through his exam. This lady understands the psychology of teachers… or indeed of most people. It’s a good thing for teachers to remember too: praise students and they work harder. (Sometimes.)

I’m now on holiday. (Little joyful dance.) My brother and his family arrive on Christmas Eve from their home in the deep south (of England), which will be lovely, but before that, on Tuesday, our darling son comes home for Christmas from his current abode in the slightly shallower south. (Enormous, jubilant dance, involving whoops of delight and the shaking of pompoms.) This morning I bought some of his favourite foods, including mangoes, which it has pained me to walk past in the supermarket since his departure. The rest of the family don’t eat them much since they taste a bit like soap, but he’s very fond of them.

He’s on night duty at the moment and emailed me after I had expressed concern that the population of Dumfries who had been celebrating not wisely but too well might be causing him extra work and trouble. He pointed out that he wasn’t on the emergency ward at the moment, but on Surgery. He wrote,

Happily the people who come into A+E having indulged in a little too much alcohol don’t come my way. Unless they develop pancreatitis, I suppose, then they’re all mine. So far it has been q-u-i-e-t (you’re not allowed to say it out loud by hospital law, just in case). [Girlfriend] was on late for Surgery and seems to have got the wards sorted out. She finishes at 9pm (when I start) and starts at 9am (when I finish). So essentially, we’re in charge 24 hours a day.

Oh, how delighted I am not to be in charge of anything but the Life Christmas.