The day has started unexpectedly well. Going through some old papers, I found a pamphlet, which turned out to be a project that Ro did at Middle School about Lowestoft china. It’s spot on and very informative. I vaguely remember him doing it (fifteen years ago) and he puts both me and the Sage down in the acknowledgements, but he certainly wrote it himself, there’s a piece of information in there that I only picked up myself a few years ago, and the book he got it from is in the bibliography. Although it was seen by the teacher, as there are ticks at intervals, there is no mark at the end. I trust he got a good one. There are several photos, taken straight from our most recent sale, but it’s nearly all writing. Very like me, that is, I remember feeling quite indignant as a child when I spent ages doing a piece of writing and someone else did a couple of pictures and a drawing with captions and got as high a mark as I did. I always did prefer words to pictures, and besides it showed that I’d actually done the work. No real surprise that I loathed ‘projects’. I would have been useless with examination coursework, I really couldn’t be bothered, I’d have left it all until the last moment, if done it at all. Nerve-wracking as they were, I preferred proper exams. A lot of forward reading, memorising and thinking, a couple of intensive hours and you were done.
I was having a meeting the other day with the Head, and we were interrupted several times by messages coming in, all of which needed fairly prompt action by him. “Always something extra,” or something like that, I said, but he replied that he loves it. “This job is never the same for two days, there is always something I need to react to and deal with.” He looked at me. “You’re the same, you wouldn’t want a predictable job, would you?”
It’s true. I have a short attention span and need constant stimulation.