The Year 9 music pupils in today’s lesson were having their work recorded, for playing back and evaluating at the next lesson. It’s been an ambitious project – each class was split into small groups, usually of 4 or 5, and they had to write, arrange and play a piece of music in their chosen style. Some of the groups tackled this with a lot more confidence than others, but I’ve been impressed by the work they’ve all put in and the results. It’s not the way we were taught music when I was at school.
I was tired and had to walk up the hill to the school. I knew I looked drawn and miserable and I couldn’t help it – it was all right when I was with someone and had an animated expression, but in repose my face drooped. On the way home, I noticed the gardener in the churchyard mowing the grass and I went along to tell him the date of the festival, so that he could cut the grass and tidy up in the week before. As I came back, an old lady was walking through the side gateway followed by her granddaughter (I suppose) who had driven her there. They were both carrying flowers. The older woman’s were bright, pretty colours of summery flowers and it made me cry, to think of her visiting her husband, with nothing to express herself with but pointless blossoms that he wouldn’t see her carefully arrange and lovingly water.
This afternoon’s meeting, which was to confirm or disallow the permanent exclusion of a school pupil, was straightforward, but depressing.
Tomorrow, Weeza and Phil are coming up to meet the carpet fitter at their house in Norwich, to where they are moving next month. The train service has been horribly delayed by track problems all week and the lastest thing was a derailed goods train yesterday. They will be bused from Colchester to Ipswich and the journey will take nearly an hour longer each way. I’ll ferry them around to do some shopping – paint and the like – take them to the house and also buy the Sage a birthday present for next week. We’ll celebrate on Saturday evening, while we’re all here.
Al panicked this morning when he discovered an order on the board for stuff he didn’t have – lollo rosso lettuces, endives, several pineapples, 20lbs of tomatoes, herbs, 15 lbs of strawberries — it went on. He rang and there was no reply, so the Sage went out to visit the customer and see whether they were for today or tomorrow. Her husband was there. “Um, no,” he said, “the order’s for next week.” The Sage went back and reported to Al who had, by then, noticed the date clearly written and who has meekly accepted the description of ‘plonker.’