Spare a thought

I know strictly speaking it's half-term and therefore I've got no children to write about this Wednesday and Thursday; but after only 2 weeks of writing blogs I think I'm getting withdrawal symptoms.

Just as the weather-people promised, it's been a BARMY day today; halloween beckons and yet the skies have been almost glowing with blue-ness; several times today they've stopped me in my tracks and I've stood gormlessly, head-back-mouth-open, thinking (oh-so-eloquently) "sky - wow".

This evening, I made my way down from campus-library-computer-books-land to college-train-catching-land. The platform is a mosiac of scholarly-looking academics, weighed down with books bearing serious titles, such as
"Old English houses of Alms: A pictorial record with architectural and historical notes" and
"ECE compendium of model provisions for building regulations - revised edition" and
"Algebraic systems of equations and computational complexity theory by Zeke Wang".
Spare a thought for the fledgling primary student teacher, clutching picture books like
"Man on the Moon - a day in the life of Bob" and
"Gentle Giant"
"How to catch a star" and
"A sailing boat in the sky" and
"Good night Mister Tom" and
"Twinkle Twinkle Chocolate Bar"

. . . I shift my books uncomfortably under my arm. How is one to feel, amongst such a studious, academic fellowship of commuters? Out of place? Inadequate? Unintelligent? Like I'm Twenty-Three goin on Five?

As I climb on the train and bury myself in "A day in the Life of Bob", I learn about his daily commute to the moon (not dissimilar to mine - only takes 15 minutes and he can do the crossword on the way) and I spot the aliens lurking on the tranquil surface of the moon. I can almost already hear class 2 enthusiastically giggling and shouting out to Bob that the aliens are THERE!! BEHIND YOU!! and I realise how a fledgling student teacher should feel next to all these serious scholarly academics - smug.