Best Laid Plans of Aubergine and A Level

Yesterday, the new sofas arrived. They are aubergine in colour. Tybalt is VERY keen on the new sofas and spent most of yesterday testing them out using various poses - cutely curled, languidly stretched, suave recline, cheeky perch, semi-buried, Zen-focused. Tybalt is a black and white cat. Which means half his fur is white. Which shows up beautifully against aubergine.

Didn't think that one through very well, did I? Investment in a hand-held vacuum for instant cat fur removal is required. Ah well. It is a LOVELY aubergine colour.

I've spent the last two days completing the schemes of work for A level literature.
'What's a scheme of work?' says Mrs Slocombe.
'It's a detailed plan of teaching and learning for each year group and topic a department teaches,' I say. 'In three phases - long term, medium term and short term.'
'Don't you just wing it?' says Mrs Slocombe. 'You know, make it up as you go along?'
'Aaah,' I say, 'you're thinking of the good old days. The days when teachers were trusted to approach their teaching with freedom and creativity. It's all prescribed now.'
'Like penicillin?' says Mrs S.
'If you like',' I say. 'Of course, a very recent training day I attended featured a key note speaker who said it was important not to plan too closely. That a teacher should be prepared to change the course and focus of their lesson at a moment's notice if a student develops an interesting point for discussion, for example.'
'So winging it, then?' says Mrs Slocombe.
'That was the implication,' I say.
'So you've spent hours and hours planning these schemes for A level, and you may end up not following them?' says Mrs S, who is starting to look a bit bug-eyed.
'Possibly,' I say. 'Education is in a constant state of flux. Fluxed up good and proper on some levels.'
'But Pride and Prejudice has remained the same for 200 years,' says Mrs S.
'Indeed,' I say. 'Which reminds me - I'm going to have a DVD day today watching Colin Firth as Mr Darcy in a wet blouse and tight trousers.'
'Is that wise, given the size of your backside?' says Mrs S.
'Not me, you fool,' I say. 'Colin Firth. Besides, I can hardly sit on the new sofas wearing wet trousers, can I? The aubergine will run.'
'It might pick up the cat fur,' says Mrs Slocombe.
'True,' I say.
'Shall I get the popcorn and Maltesers?' says Mrs Slocombe.
'Absolutely,' I say.