Electronic enemies are no fun. When I walked away from my computer, the blog entry was three-quarters written. Yes I should have saved it as draft, but even Microsoft Word manages to hold onto a recovery version for cases of emergency. So I´m morosely chomping down a pot of dried fruit, and coming to terms with the fact that it matters not one jot whether this is the fault of the computer or WordPress, since I´m never going to have the enjoyment of taking revenge on either of them. Tis mine to avenge saith the Lord…
This week with my English students I´ve been doing discussions on giving and receiving advice, using this as a conversation starter;-
“All I really needed to know I learned in Kindergarten:
Share everything.
Play fair.
Don’t hit people.
Put things back where you found them.
CLEAN UP YOUR OWN MESS.
Don’t take things that aren’t yours.
Say you’re SORRY when you HURT somebody.
Wash your hands before you eat.
Flush.
Warm cookies and cold milk are good for you.
Live a balanced life – learn some and drink some and draw some and paint some and sing and dance and play and work everyday some.
Take a nap every afternoon.
When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together.
Be aware of wonder. Remember the little seed in the Stryrofoam cup: The roots go down and the plant goes up and nobody really knows how or why, but we are all like that.
Goldfish and hamster and white mice and even the little seed in the Styrofoam cup – they all die. So do we.
And then remember the Dick-and-Jane books and the first word you learned – the biggest word of all – LOOK.”
― Robert Fulghum
Sometimes life in our house is fluffy and kindergarten. Othertimes it´s sex, lies and videotape. Or more likely whatsapp in this day and age. We can´t write too much about sex, lies and whatsapp in fairness to the youth of the household. It´s not always easy, we´re writing the script on the hoof. So are they.
Here, on the other hand, is something of the former. Really it´s for Granny. Danny´s new best friend is a little mare called Flor (Spanish for flower) who arrived at the riding school a couple of weeks ago. We are grateful we live in Argentina, because there´s no way we could afford for him to do this in England.
When he was last out of school the other day I went along to his classroom to see what was keeping him, and found him galloping around the furniture showing his teacher the things he´s learning at riding school.