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Showing posts from 2009

New year's resolutons

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Well the date was begging for it wasn't it... 1) I will stop nicking. 2) I will start to accept my pyramania is an illness. 3) I will never, ever push anyone over again. 4) I will stop counting chocolate orange as one of my five a day. 5) I will leave irreverence to others - especially at funerals. 6) Only one joy ride per month and I will return the car afterwards. 7) I will understand that the C word is not appropriate in every situation - not even for overdue library books. 8) I will offer my bogeys to others before eating them. 9) I will stop justifying trashy TV and suduko by saying they are meditative. 10) I will no longer get annoyed and squirm inside when people use the term, 'let's not go there' because there are a few worse sins in the world, like murder. Oh what a better person I would become. No that was just me being silly. I have never made a new year's resolution. If a change of habit is needed I like to think I could master it any time of year. Howev

Another funny story

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This is from my collection of funny stories that I encounter because of my job. It made me smile! A Year 3 pupil (aged 7) asked her teacher, "how do you spell 'f*ck'?" The teacher was obviously taken aback, coughed and replied, "What is it exactly you are trying to write?" To which the girl replied, "I've got the 'Nor', I just need the 'fuck'!" . . 'Norfolk' for those of you that might not have got there. A county that's beauty is found in its skies.

A pub brawl

A pub Brawl from Jung – A very short introduction by Anthony Stevens I could have written my own version of this but have chosen to use this fine illustration out of 1) laziness and 2) having no need to reinvent this fine wheel. Please note the views in the recounts are not shared exactly by all thinkers/feelers/intuitives/sensors of course, they are just illustrative!!!! We all have either,   • Sensation  • Thinking  • Feeling or  • Intuition   as our dominant function. Imagine one of each type witnessed the following scene: Two men came staggering out of a bar. They are shouting and swearing at one another. There is a struggle. One of them falls to the ground and bangs his head on the pavement. Each witness will respond to what is before them in a manner typical of his/her type:  The sensation type will give the clearest account of what happened. S/he will have noted the height, build and general appearance of the two men: one was overweight, middle-aged and bald and had a

Myers briggs and communication.....

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One of the best applications of Myers Briggs is understanding the communication difficulties that arise as a result of different 'preferences' communicating. As I wrote in my last post, if people have strong preferences, they are more likely to have 'blind spots' and it is these that can cause difficulties in communication. I will take each spectrum one at a time and talk in terms of the difficulties that sometimes arise when an extreme version of one end of the spectrum converses with the opposite extremity. EXTRAVERTS and INTROVERTS The greatest difficulties in communication can arise in this spectrum. Extraverts can annoy everyone, even other extraverts because everything is just pumped out with no filtering process - from brain to mouth in 0.000003 seconds! Extraverts speak expressively (they often make gestures and wave their arms around a lot) and are prone to repeating themselves (usually to really emphasise a point) much to the irritation of the introver

Congratulations ..............

I can't resist congratulating my big sister for winning a travel writing competition in the Observer: http://www.guardian.co.uk/travel/2009/dec/27/europe-readers-stories-2009?page=2 Sadly my link thing never seems to work so it's a cut and paste job for anyone that's interested. Her writing appears to be taking off (a few articles here and there, and little snippets in the Guardian) and I hope it grows and grows, blossoms and reaches far out. xxxx

I must stop Myers Brigging people....

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After a night out in the pub a while ago I received this e mail in my in-box: -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, Don't know if you remember our conversation about Myers-Briggs in the pub last friday, but it's definitely intruiging. I think, from googling, that you are right that I am defintely more of an INFP than an INTP. It's really quite surprising how well it seems to fit. Who knew that you could learn so much from just a few questions? The things that can be learnt from such a small insight into the human psyche really are quite fascinating. Anyway, was lovely to meet you, do hope all is well. All the best, Andy **************************************** I did remember but I am starting to realise that I might be over-doing the Myers Briggs stuff a bit! I do a quick Myers Brigg typing of pretty much every teacher or head-teacher I have a one to one with, I've done it to people on trains, all my colleagues, some o

Acquisition?

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I once met a man called Chris at a hippie camp (Dance Camp East). (This photo shows him after I had 'done' his hair ready for the ball.) You certainly meet a selection of colourful, thought-provoking people at hippie camps. He told me that at the age of 23 that he decided that a LOT of the world's serious difficulties were and would be caused by over-consumption. He decided (at that young age) that he would reduce his own level of consumption by limiting his income and vowed to himself to only ever earn enough to ensure just his basic needs were met. He also told me that he never saw life in terms of acquisition of material goods, but acquisition of skills. He said that every time he saw an opportunity to learn a skill, he would jump at it. He clearly had a wide array of skills (could fix, make or build almost anything) and people definitely showed admiration for his abilities. Perhaps the acquisition of skills really has waned in our society such that those with a healthy

Breaking the blog spell...

My beautifully captivating and mesmerising big sister cast a spell on me. It was a spell that would make me sit in up in the clouds and write a blog every single day...mostly for her benefit - as she dutifully and kindly read and commented on each one. Being easily coaxed into most things and liking the idea of a blog meant this spell was fine...for a while. Then.....I was sitting minding my own business (I look quite funny when I do that - most people do) when a huge green common-sense elf wearing red hotpants came and waved his wand at me declaring, "Writing a blog every day when you work full time, have two youngish children and a million projects on the go at any one time, is a little silly. You can waffle on and on about just about anything and do have about forty draft blogs saved ready to run, but it's probably best you aim more for quality than quantity and only write about slightly more fully formed ideas! After all, less IS more." I was released -although I fear

Merry Christmas

Have peaked and want to return to the build up...but that's how it goes every year...so surely everything is just as it's meant to be. xxxxx

When my professionalism was called into question....

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You know how stories from your past disappear and then come back to you again, well this was one such story I re-told recently for the first time in a long while.... I was a teacher of a Year 6 class in a very tough school. It was tough because of the children's behaviour, the lack of support for staff and the general 'divide and rule' tactics of the leadership i.e. very little team playing! That sets the scene a bit. On this particular day, the kids had all come back to class after lunchtime especially full of 'issues' - more so than normal. So and so had done this and that to so and so etc, etc. They were in a terrible state and I knew that the planned history lesson was unlikely to be less than a good ten minutes away - due to the necessity of significant calming down. So I changed tack and decided we would go back outside and let off steam in an organised physical activity way. My class loved hockey. Despite each pupil having such a potentially dangerous tool to

A blog request..

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I've had a request (I take requests) for a blog from my blog's greatest follower: my sister. Hello Claire you big loveliness. Her request was: Can you write a list of things you say at least once a day every day i.e. phrases and expressions you say a lot. Now being me, I have to bend the rules a tad because I am a bit of a catchphrase person and have periods of time when I say the same thing a lot ...but not necessarily every day ....and then move on to new catchphrases. So I am going to categorise my list: Things I do probably say every day *Could you flick my computer on please? (as my husband goes to get his underpants!) *I love you *You're great *Alright darlin'? (I probably say that 20 times a day) * Mc - I turn many things into a rhyming Mc for example Chilly McFilly or Scrummy McWummy (my daughter is very irritated by this so I am trying to phase it out) *Where are my shoes/keys/etc?...something is nearly always playing up and hiding from me *I'm just going t

Conflict

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A few months ago I watched an extremely right wing politician on Question Time (I don’t want to write his name because a friend of mine posted a pro-diversity song onto Youtube and got abusive comments from followers of this man – but I am sure you can guess who I mean). I sat in my living room and just felt my blood boil. This articulate, intelligent but twisted man clearly saw some human beings as having fewer rights (and should be given fewer opportunities) than others based on their place of birth (and colour of skin – but he side stepped saying that directly). I am not going to launch into pro-diversity or political prose myself as that was not the learning I got from watching this man. I was actually surprised at how much deep-felt anger and hatred I felt towards this man. And then it occurred to me that this was all part of the problem ……....polarisation! Extreme views can create extreme responses. If I was in the same room as him, I might have hit him (perhaps metaphorically).

Reunion

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A few years ago I was persuaded to go to a reunion at my university (UEA). It was for alumni that had started their undergrad degree in the 80s. I remember wondering at the time if a reunion was one of those things that sounded pleasant enough in theory but in reality would be awful. I was convinced attendance would be fun by posse of Norwich residing UEA graduates that I already knew, so in spite of my reservations I figured it would be just like a night out with friends - if nothing else. How wrong I was. I think the whole thing disturbed me considerably! When I arrived it was apparent that if anyone I knew from my university days was there - I certainly wasn't recognising them. Some people had come for the whole weekend and a very well-planned agenda took them to old haunts and let them re-enjoy the delights of Norwich. I (and my friends) had just dipped into a meal in the campus canteen(!) and an 80s disco on the Saturday evening. The meal was pleasant enough (mostly an opportu

Obsessed with an ancestor!

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A couple of years ago, a friend of mine offered to investigate and map out my family tree for me. I jumped at her offer - not sure what pleasure exactly I would receive from her doing so, but thought it would be interesting in the least. I had not realised how I would actually become a little obsessed by one member of my family tree: my mother's father's father's mother or one of my great, great grandmothers: Maria Ward. The first general point of interest for me was that although I had been brought up near Gatwick and had knowledge of most of my family coming from south and east London, I did not realise there was a substantial sprinkling of Norfolk - found in three independent branches of my tree. I came to Norfolk to go to university and stayed, totally unaware of any local family history. When your ancestry is a few miles down the road, it's far easier to investigate, explore and get a bit excited about. It turned out Maria Ward lived about fifteen miles from Norwic

It's what the term love-hate was made for!

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This Christmas thing is undoubtedly madness. I think it's definitely a case of 'just because everyone else is doing something, doesn't make it right.' Look at how we are behaving. 1) We're out in the snow, ice, bitter cold and exceptionally jammed up shopping centres in full force frantically hunting with Dunkirk spirit through shops for objects that match up to our idea of what someone else might deem desirable. (We all have more than enough clutter in our homes - most of which we have managed to shower on ourselves without anyone else helping and if we have kids, more than enough future plastic landfill). 2) We're in food shops buying immoral amounts of rich food that should make us feel ashamed in the light of people starving in the world. (Chances are we won't get through it all). 3) We're ordering a bird that just doesn't come in small family sizes - which we will cook and eat until we are sick of it. (Quite different from household management t

Persuasion -I am good at it, but........

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I have undoubtedly become a bit bored with part of my job: sex education and persuading people it is a positive thing. I can still pull out a convincing and persuasive passion, but I do feel a little exhausted sometimes trying to buck a huge cultural trend. My little victories of persuasion feel like I am making the odd fish turn and swim upriver and while they might swim with strength at first after my push, many often weaken and just eventually go back with the flow. Teaching the factual element of sex education is not rocket science. Helping people to 1) realise it is a good thing, and 2) feel comfortable enough to deliver it is a little more tricky. I wrote this leaflet for work to help cover part 1. I wrote it after a particularly frustrating conversation with an anti-sex education person! Sex – we need to start talking about it! The idea of children and young people learning about sex and relationships appears to cause a lot of anxiety in this country. The UK has a culture where

My daughter is great at making posters

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I had a bit of an accident yesterday. Several glasses of white wine fell into my mouth. It was remarkable. I was sitting, all civilised, eating lovely food in a fine restaurant with work colleagues, celebrating the birth of little baby Jesus, when I had the accident. It rendered me unable to speak or even walk properly. Funny thing is, I would recommend it, as I had fantastic fun - but not too often. So even though a hangover is somewhat like an old friend, it's not conducive to bountiful blogging. So my offering today is a poster my daughter made when we were decorating. Poor - I know - but I am still re-hydrating, rubbing bruises and moving in slow motion. xxxx

Brick

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I am lightening up today with some silliness!! Please join in.....! I was once told that thinking up uses for a brick was a way to test people's creativity. So I went home and I had one or two ideas.... • prop up a table that had one leg partially removed by a hamster with a chainsaw strapped on its back • an imaginary friend for those wishing for an entry in the best of British eccentrics • the start of a long story about Jack the builder for visual learners •a chest rest to help you read a hardback book • to provide a bit of momentum to shove a stiff tap • a foot pumice • something that made you feel like you had done a headstand without actually turning yourself upside down • a pushchair brake • powdered into a rouge • a blindfold for a cheat that you didn’t like very much • a counter for a 'stand in' during a game of twister • a marker for a blind person to help them find their front door • a booster for a sandcastle for the kid who got to the beach and had no tools •

My father's death

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Death is one of our culture's taboos so I hope this blog does not offend. We're not very good at death - you'd think there would be a useful protocols by now - we've been at it for thousands of years! Because death's not really spoken about nobody appears to know what might help in such testing times - certainly not if my closest experience with it is anything to go by...... My dad was an unusual character - extremely unorthodox and very angry. We never got to the bottom of whatever made him like he was because the tiniest hint of digging below the surface always provoked an angry outburst. He could go from nought to full rage in less than a second and my siblings and I got very good at treading on eggshells as children. He was incredibly academically clever and capable: good at constructing things (made me a beautiful wooden magic roundabout), a practical scientist - could build radios and all sorts of gadgets, creative - pretty good at painting, a linguist (spoke

A story from my past - are you sitting comfortably?

In the year above me at school, when I was about nine, there was a boy that had a skin condition that to this day I still have no idea what it possibly could have been. I remember my mum explaining it to me as his pores not working properly. My mum's explanations always came with a 'that's gonna have to do you' air about them. Anyway, the result was a very red, sore looking skin. As it went in those days, such an abnormality warranted some name calling (oh how better we understand emotional health and well being now!). It was somewhat unimaginative, but he became known as Tomato Head to everyone in the school. So one playtime, I am there clowning around as usual when Tomato Head passes close-by. This prompts a discussion amongst my friends about who was going to dare call him by his nasty nick-name. I saw that as 'barely-a-dare' so volunteered confidently and delivered instantly. The response was not as I had anticipated. Tomato Head looked directly at me, with

I decorate my street for Christmas

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For a few years now, I have crept out after dark on Christmas Eve to decorate my street's sixty or so small front gardens. I know it probably gives me more pleasure than anyone as I love the slight mischievousness of it all (trespassing and not getting caught) and find pleasure in waking up on Christmas morning and looking at my 'impact' in full light. It makes Christmas Eve feel pretty Christmassy -especially after a couple of sherries!!! I also love watching people wander down the street on Christmas day, pointing and smiling - usually with some degree of apparent disbelief! Last year, everybody got a 'Merry Christmas wish tied up in their front garden. This year, I am going for even more impact and have several colourful decorations, glittery Christmas wishes and baubles. I will try and get a photo that does it justice on Christmas morning! I have received a smattering of feedback - all positive. The best response was received via my husband. He was accosted on the

Poorliness!

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I have been a tad poorly with a snotty little virus in the last couple of days which made me think, 'can I write a blog about being ill?' This lead on to the question, 'could I write a blog about just about anything?' The answer? Probably because there's not much I can't waffle on speculatively about (not necessarily knowledgeably!). It's not a boast. It's a realisation that I probably need to reflect more and pump out less!! However I do have an observation about people and illness - see I can't help myself. I think that people's different (and they are diverse) responses to being ill is very much linked to their parents'/carers' reaction to illness. Whether a person duplicates their parents' approach or has reacted against it, it's a raw display of their unconscious in action (as after all, we are potentially ill from babyhood - so we are talking about very deep-rooted wiring). I know this is obvious, but I have never heard any

Christmas card construction

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I tend not to buy Christmas cards. I make them. But not every year. So some years people don't get a Christmas card from me but it doesn't appear to damage them beyond repair. In fact, I suspect they don't even notice. This card exchanging is pleasant enough but slightly potty behaviour in my book (especially with people you see every week). It's sort of, here have this bit of card with your name and my name on it and some sort of minimal season's wishes that are so much the more validated for being on a piece of card in an envelope, with a pretty picture. Trees lose their life for that. However, having said all that, I am not adverse to potty behaviour so this year IS a card making one. Yipee I hear everyone cry! I'm not overly systematic in my approach to anything, so making things rarely follows a linear staged production procedure. It nearly did this year though. Stage 1. Cut some cards out and pile them up messily. Sooooo the boring bit. Stage 2 Cut a pot