FFF #32 – Still In Love With You

Oh I do love this challenge! So glad to have you back Matt!

Neon Music Sign

This week’s edition will be on (drumroll please)… the wacky, brilliant, Still in Love with You from Electro Velvet. Feel free to base responses of anything to do with the song, I always enjoy any different takes! 100 words please!

She waved goodbye to the last few punters, blowing a kiss to them, as they slurred how much they loved her. It was always the same. Susie just had that personality. Flirtatious. And it was a money spinner in this trade.  She always managed to sell a few more drinks.  Her cleavage was something of an attraction to the local lads.
Tim stood in the doorway that led up to their flat above the pub that they ran. “Oh don’t look at me like that babe! You know I’m still in love with you! It’s just a little friendly banter!”

SATs Day 2 #letourkidsbekids


He went to school quietly. Not necessarily confidently, but knowing he had to do what needed to be done for these tests.

I sent him with a whisper in his ear to not worry, just do his best, and remember Babaji (God) before starting the paper. We always ‘ask’ Babaji to be with us when we do things, so whatever the outcome, we know it was meant to be.

I didn’t see him at school all day.

In the evening when I came home I asked how it went. “Fine.” Stock answer for everything from a 10 year old boy.

Slowly though he began to talk about it. “Mummy, it was so hard, there was lots to,rad but the questions were really difficult. I didn’t even finish it. Lots of people didn’t finish it. Some children were even crying…”

I wasn’t sure how to take the end bit, but I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he had found it hard.

Coming home, looking at news sites and Facebook, it became apparent that he wasn’t the only one.

Parents posted about how upset or stressed their children had been.

Teachers had stated that in Classrooms across the country, the children classed as ‘more able’ were bursting into tears within minutes of starting the paper, not able to understand the vocabulary used in questions. What hope did our average or ‘nearly there’ students have?

This morning I wake to the news that today’s paper was leaked for a short while, on the suppliers website.

This happened with the younger children’s Key Stage 1 paper three weeks ago, and that has now been withdrawn.

Our kids had got pretty good at the practice Spelling Punctuation and Grammar or SPaG tests. If they say these marks will be discounted, it will dishearten the kids further.

I am even more concerned now of the mental health of these children. 

Not just my own, but a whole nation of 10-11 year olds. 

I came into teaching to make learning fun, to show children how much fun you can have learning about all manner of things… Thanks to the Education Ministers of the last few years, the fun of teaching and learning has been sucked out of education, instead replaced with unrealistic standards and tests.

Kids will no longer have a thirst for learning, instead they will gag at the thought of being force fed another fronted adverbial or subordinate clause…

Sort it out Government and Nicky Morgan!!

#letourkidsbekids

Can’t Get No SATs-isfaction

Well, that day has finally arrived. The one I have been dreading, for Lil Man’s sake. You may remember I wrote an open letter to the Education secretary about this.

The Year 6 (and Year 2) students in the UK are sitting their SATs tests this week. A set of tests that have been around for a while, but this year, they have changed. The National Curriculum changed last year, and they decided to introduce new tests, with higher standards, and much tougher questions this year.

I feel for these kids. I know that Lil Man and his class have been subjected to  practice test after practice test the last couple of months, in readiness for these particular ones, and I think they are all exhausted. Speaking

Speaking for his teachers, from a teacher’s perspective, they have been trying to play catch up, as the Government threw them a curve ball with regards to what children are expected to achieve midway through the year. It is not their fault, they want the children to do as well as they can, and the practice is to make sure the kids are sure of how these tests work.

From a parent’s perspective though, these excessive tests just make me feel that our children’s childhoods are being snatched away from them. I know of umpteen parents who have felt the need to tutor their kids, on top of what they do at school, determined to get their children to pass with flying colours.

Who doesn’t want their child to pass?

Of course, I would love it if Lil Man came out with top marks, but I am going to be realistic here. It ain’t gonna happen. He will do as well as he can, he will give these SATs his all, and for that, I am grateful.  I shall be happy with whatever he gets.

And I want him to have a happy childhood to look back on, not one where he just saw studying everywhere he turned. He loves sports, playing the dhol, spending time with our cat.

We spent this weekend forgetting about school work. He had just had a week of mock tests.

Seriously.

He’s 10 and he’s doing MOCK TESTS! I only ever had mocks when my GCSE’s were looming, at 15!

So we enjoyed the sunshine, played in the garden, allowed him to forget school for the weekend. After all, if he doesn’t know something now, it isn’t going to sink in overnight.

We just have to get him through Thursday, then the testing will be done. He can be a child again.

GOOD LUCK LIL MAN! Mummy and Daddy are behind you 100%. These things mean nothing to us. Do your best, try your hardest, give it

Mummy and Daddy are behind you 100%. These things mean nothing to us. Do your best, try your hardest, give it your all. That is as much as we can ask, and I know that you will do this. I can’t wait for this week to be done, and I know he can’t wait either.

And here is just a little piece I wrote regarding the effects this constant testing from such a young age is having on our kids, when Lil Princess was sitting her Year 2 SATs last year.

Have a good Monday Peeps. 🙂

My Sister’s Birthday!

Hey! A little whisper in your cake hole…

Did you know it is the birthday of someone really special?

There is a lady here, in the blogosphere who has really changed my life.

She has become my soul sister, my Luna Hippy Twin, a true inspiration to all with her wonderfully positive posts.

Have you guessed yet, who it is?

Happy Birthday to that wonderful soul Erika Kind!!!

Love you loads sis!

I look forward to June 11th so much to be able to meet you in reality!!!!

Have a wonderful day… (What is left of it!) and I am very sure there are many more of your blogily who would want to wish you on your special day!

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Thursday photo prompt – The Tower… #writephoto

scotland trip jan 15 107

“Help!”

A cry rang out through the air, across the surrounding fields.

Wilfred looked up from his work. He had been ploughing this particular area for the last few hours and he could have sworn that he had heard cries earlier, but this one was loud, crystal clear.

That voice, whoever it was, sounded in real trouble.

But where was it coming from? There was nothing around here apart from fields. Oh, and that old church.

Come to think of it, the cries seemed to come from that direction. He stopped, as he heard another cry, this one just as clear, but a little bleaker, or so it seems.

Not one to leave someone in distress, Wilfred halted his plough and secured it, then trudged over towards the old church. He didn’t recall ever having seen anyone here, well not for any joyous reason, anyway.  It was usually him and the other farm hands.  Most of the village were afraid to come here.  There were some old stories of people disappearing, never to be found, so apart from the farmer, and his loyal farm hands, no one ventured here.

Wilfred wasn’t fazed by these myths.  He wasn’t one to believe hearsay. Never had. People didn’t just disappear.  There was always a good reason.  It was just the old women in the village sensationalising stories.  Most of these ‘missing’ folk had probably run away from this godforsaken village, not disappeared, to somewhere where they would have a good life, and better prospects.  He wished he had the gumption to do something like that too sometimes.  But he was unable to. His unwell, widowed mother and younger siblings relied on him.  So he was stuck in this job, a job not many coveted, providing for his family.

As he approached the old building, he became very aware of being alone.  The church tower loomed, dark and foreboding, as a silhouette against the golds and russets of the dusk sky.

“Anyone? Help!”

The voice cried out again, and it was definitely here.

As he looked up into the tower, he saw a figure. The voice belonged to what looked like a woman.

“I’m trapped! Oh please! Can you let me out?”

Trapped? How was she trapped? Surely she can get down if she got up there in the first place! Women! Wilfred rolled his eyes and made his way to the door at the base of the tower, which was ajar. “I’m coming up,” he shouted.

The stairwell led him up to a door.  It didn’t appear locked, or stuck.  Oh well… He pushed against the door, that didn’t seem to have any handle. It didn’t take much. As the door opened, he glanced around to where he expected the window to be. There stood a figure with long blonde hair, facing away from him.

“There you go madam, the door is open now, it wasn’t stuck. If you’re alright, I’ll be on my way. I have work to finish.”

He turned to leave but all of a sudden, from behind him, he felt a thump to the back of his head and all went black….

 

In response to Sue Vincent’s #Writephoto prompt, The Tower.

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