I should pause here, by the way, to mention that I can’t see any way in which I’m odd, except that it’s taken others to point out that the Sage is, very, and I hadn’t noticed until then, but actually it’s quite true. So at the least I’m incredibly unobservant – but I did know that already. It’s all in the eye of the beholder anyway – I wanted to check something I’d written in an email to someone quite some time ago and looked it up this morning – evidently at some time we had had a conversation about blogging, which she found a strange hobby. Not that it is, but I said politely “Blogging is indeed quite peculiar, but then so are cocktail parties and going to church if one examines them closely enough.”
I knew that I was one of the three people named in the school’s Critical Incident plan, but I’ve just discovered that both of the others are going to be away at various times in August and so I am potentially at the sharp end for the first time. It’s highly unlikely that anything will happen, particularly in the school holidays – the last time it was acted upon was a few years ago when some pupils had a car accident on the way to school. All the same, I’m getting my very own copy, ooh, will study it assiduously and trust I never have to do anything else about it.
Talking about the school, it was the Year 11 leavers’ Prom last night. This is something that is taken with great enthusiasm. There is a decorative theme – this year it was The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe – and everyone dresses up most beautifully. The Head suggested I might like to come at the start, to see people arrive, and so I did. There are always some who vie with each other for the most unusual form of transport – a tractor probably got it this year – and lots of people; parents and early arrivals, cluster outside to greet and applaud them as they turn up. All the boys were in suits, many of them in dinner jackets* complete with black bow tie, and the girls’ dresses were beautiful – as were they, there wasn’t anyone who didn’t look lovely. Some of them looked a bit self-conscious, especially the ones in strapless ball gowns, but they all looked happily excited too. The Deputy Head, who is blonde, very slender and attractive, wore a slinky long red dress with a black bolero jacket and the Head was in a dinner jacket and looked pretty damn good, I must say. Well, I did say, I told him he scrubbed up surprisingly well and I think he was pleased.
*I think you call it a tuxedo in America, darlings, and it is taken to include trousers. Or the kilt of course, if you are of that persuasion.