Cheeky

I've stepped up the bird food in the garden - since it's been so wet and cold - and when I saw a movement in the feeder next to the window I thought it was a sparrow. It's not a sparrow. It was very bold - this shot was taken with the window open and me about four feet away from it. It's that wisteria shoot that's providing the entry point - I'll chop it down tomorrow (not that I want the mice in the house or anything).

This morning I put together CarbBoy's new furniture, then went to collect the mail order coat TallGirl just loved "please please please can I have it - it's perfect". Of course she hates it and now I have to send/take it back. And she will continue wearing no coat because her waterproof is not cool. The mornings when it is actually pouring and I force her to put it on, I see her walking across the carpark stuffing it into her bag. Sigh. And she wonders why she has a cold...

Later there was a lunchtime session playing hangman in (sort of) English with the kids at school, and a session teaching the little ones about colours in English. They didn't seem to have got it - though they loved the magnetic fishing game - but when I took them back to their classroom they proceeded to regale their teacher with all the colour words they'd learnt. A good feeling. And CarbBoy is now allowed to go to English classes wtih his pals - which makes him feel good too.

Later still some panicky baking of sweet treats for a school meeting tonight. It was us (the new Governing Body) presenting ourselves to various folk: the mayor (well, assistant mayor), the chief nun* who rents us half our school, the Head of the high school next door, and various other folk. We, it turns out, put on quite a spread - mostly made by me and the other English woman on the committee, so we are now in charge of accounts and cakes.

With most of the tedious things of the week out of the way, I was looking forward to a relaxing evening with a glass of wine and the rest of the cheese that wasn't eaten at the party (provided by our Secretary who is, happily, a cheesemaker). But some depressing news about Christmas** has put the mockers on that. I might just retire to bed and be done with the day.

*I don't believe that's her official title.

** Don't worry, Christmas itself is safe, just my Christmas is ruined. Instead of the planned and booked trip, I now have a choice between a cold house in France with three people who'd rather be at my Mam and Dad's house like usual, or a freezing cold and underequipped house in Scotland with the same three folk.