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Long long day. Up early for normal school preparations plus lunch to prepare for three. Today was my first outing with the school as a parent helper. All seemed to go well this morning, though I was somehow put in charge of a group with the three naughtiest boys in the school in it (you'd think they'd split them up...) Regardless, none of them died in the interminably long wait to get into the sort of agricultural fair we were going to. There was a rumour that Francois Hollande was there - which would explain all the gendarmes, closed roads and general mayhem. But we didn't see him. Once in the event, we were re-split into two groups and I had to choose which of my kids I was going to go with - I chose allergy boy (to the obvious delight of his teacher). Anyway, after a day of shepherding them all to various activities (with a guide who clearly had less clue than we did of what was going on, and certainly couldn't read a map) I have now added lots of 'hurry up', 'keep up with the group' etc, phrases to my vocabulary.

So, lots of cows (the biggest I've ever seen. Almost literally the size of a bungalow), sheep (again, huge), pigs (big mommas and teeny piglets) and the fattest pigeons you could imagine, but I'm giving you a picture of some tents over a hedge of maize. Well, I liked the colours.

Home and trying to control small boys on a bus - and freaking one boy out by - when he announced quite sensibly given the conversation we were having, that his mum speaks some English and probably learnt it at school in Italy - me excitedly saying 'oh oh so do you know M___ and H___ our American friends in Castres?' Well, the link was obvious to me. So he now thinks I'm not only a scary English teacher who has promised him one hour of English homework every night for ever, but also it appears to him that I know everyone. Cool. So, having stamped my authority by shouting at all the 6-9 year old, it just remains for me to convince the 9-11 year olds that I'm dead tough really. Katherine might act against me there. Anyway, I'm rambling inanely due to exhaustion and a little bit of delirious excitement that I can go to bed at 10pm and sleep for 12 hours.

Sadly, Mr B is not back until Sunday as he's sorting some stuff out in Scotland. But tomorrow sees us at the market, planting stuff in the garden and Conor's first go on a pony.