If You're Not the One then Why Does My Heart Tell

I've had another exceptionally lovely day with lots of photo opportunities, but scarily I was too engrossed in what I was doing to take any.

I had a half day at work, Tooli's school was celebrating it's 75th Birthday today, with an open day, including tours round the school to see the children engaged in enthusiastic activities!

Mum was working, but we took Aunt. We were all at Marr, Nant from 41-44, Mum from 51-55, me from 76-81, and now Tooli from 2005-2011. The main school building I have written about before; it is a grand old lady, but it hasn't been taken care of. Nant was horrified at the state of the wooden floors. In her day, sandshoes had to be worn on the floor, no outdoor shoes at all.

There was bemoaning too from oldies, who wanted to know where all the donated art, and artifacts had gone from the Galleries which once adorned the side of the Assembly Hall. Bearing in mind the Assembly Hall was built to accommodate the whole school roll of 400 - and now the school holds 1,200 the Galleries had to go to make more space for learning areas, and office space.

The children were funny and amusing delighting in demonstrating their prowess at whatever task they had been allocated!

Nant and I frequently wandered off from our Tour Group to Si's dismay but in doing so, we found Toolibelle, and giggled with her and her friends, before we were hastily escorted back to our group! (No random strangers walking round this school).

The school had even set up a 30's style tea room - our visit to that was timed too, but we enjoyed a lovely couple of top ups and some very nice home baking!

Tonight has been a bit traumatic, but in a good way.

Tooli has gone out.

If I say that her dad was looking for every reason to ground her, stop her from leaving the house, dread leaving the house, and leave her begging me for intervention, does that give you some idea?

I drove her down, and after a few severe words in the style of my mother, to the would-be beau, (Yes, Mum, Simon frequently relives in nightmares "Hurt my daughter and I will rip your heart from your chest"), I left her to it.

His dad is bringing her home later on, and it will be my task to keep her dad on the couch, whilst she is dropped at the door.

It would seem, that with Boy in America, and Tooli very much becoming her own person, my time as chief guardian and protector of all I survey is rapidily coming to an end.

Sob.