in the awww files

recently-scanned pic from a family'n'friends holiday in whanga 1997 - it's a where's wally moment - three of our kiddos are here - i was pregs with sammy. the kid in the sunglasses just turned twenty four and there are three now-looking-down-the-barrel-at-21 year olds... wowsers brucie.
and this is the month's fave kiddo pic that i snapped on raych's phone a couple of weeks ago just as danny was about to hop in rasputin and travel back to the big smoke. rasputin who is now lazarus. c'est la vie. mick in this pic is a year older than danny was in the first pic. ok, i'll stop with the maths now.

slow food

so what’s keeping the wheels turning lately is doing the washing at night and biffing stuffs into the slow cooker in the morning. when “i dunno what to do… I dunno what to do…” (guess the movie line) i use a maggi sachet – i know, it’s not quite au naturel but it’s just so easy peasy. today's epic comfortfoodyness: take one bolar roast from a happy moo, defrost on the bench overnight. sear it on all sides in a swoosh of hot olive oil (and forget to wipe up splatters on the bench). pop into slow cooker. open a sachet of ‘maggi beef provençale’ (yeah, i’m a little unconventional – had run out of gravy options), tip sachet contents into a cup and fill to the nearly-brim with two-day-old ngatarawa stables merlot (how that had escaped the eyeballs i do not know). stir, pour over the meatygoodness. quarter a few medium sized pohtaytohs lengthways, sprinkle with ‘tuscan seasoning’ (from a jar = more inorganic naughtyness) and toss them in a little extra olive oil. throw the taters preciouses into the slow cooker so they can snuggle around the meat. wham on lid. cook on low power all day whilst entertaining a hundred and fifty kiddos at skool. arrive home to aromatic deliciousness. scare up some frozen veggies and persuade hubby to assemble it all artfully on plates. eat piggy dins styles whilst watching the weather peeps tell us that a huuuuge storm – the size of austraaaaaalia – is about to descend on leetle en zed. chase kiddos into showers and pop the washing on... X

(nota bene: if/when ya do an onions, meat, mushrooms, tomatoes stroganoff thang: always soften onions in olive oil first. throw all into slow cooker and keep the mushrooms whole otherwise they will shrivel. cook on low eight to ten hours. be careful not to drown it in too much liquid. practice makes perfect delish.)

uh, last term i was told off for not putting science shizzit away, and this term i've just been told off for putting science shizzit away.

see, this is the whole unscientist thing. after the first hairy scary science experiment when i was busy congratulating self for not setting any walls or kids alight, we left unfortunate shizzit in the sink cos i got my timing all wrong and had to rush the kids out of the lab without my newest trick of offering a *prize* for the tidiest area. but now the kids are so keen to get that prize, they're putting EVERYTHING away, including hot tripods fresh off the bunsen burners.
so there are now four holey plastic tote trays. (and a Big Fat Email Sent Out To All Teachers)
HOLY TOTE TRAYS, BATMAN.
oops, my bad.
betcha i know who won't be offered any science classes next year... the glass beaker is half full, my friend.

suffoKATEd

i am finding myself becoming a bit negative. i think i'm being affected by classroom politics: the separating of teacher from learner, the unspoken vibe that pits child against adult, and vice versa, and i'm coming home feeling a bit 'kidded out'. all day i'm managing thirty little people hour by blessed hour, trying to keep the peace and keep learning at the centre of it. how ridiculous! learning happens all the time. but oh, we have another test next week. my philosophy of life is clashing badly with the space i've found myself in. what to do?

and life in our own house suddenly seems too loud. i'm finding myself seeking solace in nutty things like ironing. which is a crazy statement in itself. i adore these peeps i'm walking with. our usual vibe is being dampened by my exhaustion. the weekend arrives and i just wanna crawl into a cave.

we did escape to the beach yesterday. me'n' my five kiddos, on danny's last holiday day with us. everyone spread out and went adventuring, jumping off rocks and clinging to cliffs above the crashing surf. my heart stopped once or twice. but it did put the ensuing exams into perspective, for an hour.

so i'm thinking about the possibility of pursuing a full time job next year, or not: will one lot of kiddos and one classroom be easier than four (or fourteen some weeks)? can i really be true to my hippie self (yeah, the kids are still asking)? will i have some niceness left over for my own beautiful people, or will it all get sucked out by some passing dementor?

like a record baby round round

ah september the first
here you are again with your
tantalising scents of sultry sands
just behind that waking dream i
plop my michelin manness
upon the white elephant and
pedal pedal pedal
in hopes of whittling winter from
my waist counting revolutions
resolving to turn wine back
into water while twee
lines form in my head
memories of my baby's first
21 septembers and fozzie bear
laughs laughs laughs
at the morning radio chorus
lightening blue peeps in
whisked back window organza
the magic minute finally appears
we sleepily swap places you
on the bike and i in the sheets
and i notice a big jumble of
shoes shoes shoes
all over my wardrobe floor
which is strange cos i've worn my
docs every single day.