Like Buses

Three house viewings booked in over the next four days - one tomorrow; a couple who have already sold their house and are travelling from Sussex to view. I want to shriek, 'Why are you leaving Sussex to move to Kent? Don't you know it'll be a concrete jungle within two years?' But I won't because they are viewingwhen I am at work and Andy will be showing them around and he is far more tactful than I.

The second is a gentleman who is a cash buyer and he is viewing on Friday. A cash buyer? I suspect that if he makes an offer it will be a silly offer. Like £12.75.

The third is a couple, mortgage agreed, viewing on Saturday. No more clues than that.

Cor...it's all happening.

Tomorrow I am delivering a training session at school on how to structure an outstanding Ofsted lesson using interactive activities and continual assessment. The vice principal asked me to run it because he thinks I am fabulous. I am thinking if it goes well I could start a new career as an educational advisor and earn great wodges of cash for doing very little other than prancing around telling other teachers how to suck eggs.

 13 people have signed up to the session, which means I have the biggest audience to deliver to out of all the training sessions on offer.
'Well,' said Neil, a signed up attendee, 'at least you'll be entertaining.'

No pressure then.

I have decided to teach a lesson on poetry as if the staff were actually year 8 students. Jo, who is also attending my session because she thinks she will be entertained, is planning on role-playing the student who messes around in class.
'No, you blooming' well won't,' said I. 'You'll blooming' well behave yourself.'

Anyway, I have found some rude limericks to use a starter activity. And I shall make sure I have my whistle on hand in case they start running riot.



I'm not having any messing around in my lesson, especially from a bunch of colleagues.