Well, This Post Is Just The Cat's Pyjamas
Only a few days until GCSE's properly begin (with French Reading/Listening, of all things) but I'm not worrying too much about those.
Yesterday (I did do some revision but) I had a ballet show, so I played cards and ate a lot of sweets and allowed my sister to torture me (*put makeup on me). Also, my other sister managed to scratch me with her hairbrush, which meant that my back looked like it had been attacked by some demon creature- so some of the others dabbed foundation on it (which stung awfully) so it wasn't quite so obvious.
Fun times.
And I didn't kick anyone this year! But I was wearing pointe shoes and I still can't feel my feet. :(
Today, although I will be doing an afternoon of revision, I did a litter pick with my village. The thing with living in such a small village is that you get the whole community thing, which (contrary to popular belief) I actually really like.
My family (apart from my dad) joined one other lady and spent an hour walking up the lane, which is absolutely gorgeous, with bluebells nestled under the trees. Basically, I live in an area that is perfect for an author, as there are so many beautiful things to describe.
Anyway, after we'd picked up litter (including an inner for a shoe- not sure how someone managed to lose that) we went to one of the houses for refreshments. Which was lovely. I don't know if you've ever seen any of the BBC2 programmes 'Back In Time For...' but it just reminded me of the older ones- 40s, 50s, even 60s. Being a neighbour was more than just waving hello every morning as the villagers knew each other and spent time together chatting and eating good cake.
It's weird, I know, but I love the idea (and the practice) of this close-knit community. Think Agatha Christie, I suppose, although no one has been murdered here (that I'm aware of).
Is there a moral to this story? Probably not- I just wanted to write about what I did this morning- but maybe go and meet your neighbours. Make a cake or invite them over for a chat or something, but let's stop ignoring each other and make some new friends.
And also learn some 'cool' slang to show off (as I am now going to do, hopefully to confuse everybody). Like apparently, 'cut the gas' meant 'shut up' in the 50s.
Who knew.
Yesterday (I did do some revision but) I had a ballet show, so I played cards and ate a lot of sweets and allowed my sister to torture me (*put makeup on me). Also, my other sister managed to scratch me with her hairbrush, which meant that my back looked like it had been attacked by some demon creature- so some of the others dabbed foundation on it (which stung awfully) so it wasn't quite so obvious.
Fun times.
And I didn't kick anyone this year! But I was wearing pointe shoes and I still can't feel my feet. :(
Today, although I will be doing an afternoon of revision, I did a litter pick with my village. The thing with living in such a small village is that you get the whole community thing, which (contrary to popular belief) I actually really like.
My family (apart from my dad) joined one other lady and spent an hour walking up the lane, which is absolutely gorgeous, with bluebells nestled under the trees. Basically, I live in an area that is perfect for an author, as there are so many beautiful things to describe.
Anyway, after we'd picked up litter (including an inner for a shoe- not sure how someone managed to lose that) we went to one of the houses for refreshments. Which was lovely. I don't know if you've ever seen any of the BBC2 programmes 'Back In Time For...' but it just reminded me of the older ones- 40s, 50s, even 60s. Being a neighbour was more than just waving hello every morning as the villagers knew each other and spent time together chatting and eating good cake.
It's weird, I know, but I love the idea (and the practice) of this close-knit community. Think Agatha Christie, I suppose, although no one has been murdered here (that I'm aware of).
Is there a moral to this story? Probably not- I just wanted to write about what I did this morning- but maybe go and meet your neighbours. Make a cake or invite them over for a chat or something, but let's stop ignoring each other and make some new friends.
And also learn some 'cool' slang to show off (as I am now going to do, hopefully to confuse everybody). Like apparently, 'cut the gas' meant 'shut up' in the 50s.
Who knew.
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