This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in these posts are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental. These posts have no connection to reality. Any attempt by the reader to replicate any scene in these posts is to be taken at the reader's own risk. Entire regions described in these posts do not exist. Any attempt to learn anything from these posts is disrecommended by the author.
Showing posts with label life cold new zealand weather. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life cold new zealand weather. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 October 2011
Sunday, 5 June 2011
The furniture has arrived
I mentioned last week that we had bought some "pieces" of stylish furniture from a nice place in the Wairarapa. They arrived earlier this week, but we've only just got them upstairs into the lounge.
Sunday, 27 March 2011
Rhinovirus sucks
Did I take a day off work?
No.
We Scottish blokes don't wimp out so easily (unlike some of the kiwi girls and boys who depart at the slightest sign of a sniffle. Although I must admit that Richard [of RBB] has struggled gamely on, nose dripping bravely)
Sunday, 27 February 2011
Weather
Weather is odd.
We've been having some odd weather in NZ, which has completely mucked up our sports day(s) in Nuova Lazio High School.
Last Tuesday (the day of the terrible Christchurch earthquake) we were supposed to be having a sports day. Our students were excited about it, not because of having to run around a track in the hot weather, or throwing a metal spear, or jumping over a bar, but because :
1. They didn't have to attend normal classes
2. They were encouraged to wear the most outlandish costumes, based on their house colours (Blue, Yellow, Green and Red) Prizes would be given for the best outfits.
On the morning, I had to leave for school at 7:00 so I would have time to arrange for some relief teachers if the sports were cancelled. (Obviously I didn't have to arrange relief teachers if the sports were on; I mean, who cares if there's 4 instead of 5 teachers supervising the Discus, or the Javelin. Admittedly, having a Year 9 pupil skewered by an erratically thrown Javelin is not to be encouraged (in almost all cases; but I have a little list, they never will be missed) and might even bring the school to the attention of the dreaded press, but adequate sports activities supervision was all arranged, and not my responsibility).
I was dressed for the sports; big floppy sun-hat, cool cotton shirt (blue check, house colours, The BLUE obviously, not the check, unless you're a Czech, then it's modrá) trusty ex-Army shorts that have seen me through 5 house paintings in two countries, really silly pair of Hush Puppy sandals and about ½ litre of factor 50 sunblock.
It was raining as I left my house, a gentle spatter on the windscreen. The skies were full of dark clouds. Excellent I thought, the sports day will be cancelled, normal classes will run, and I'll appear as a complete prat to everyone, because they'll have heard the radio announcement cancelling the sports day and will have had time to change into normal school dress ( not necessarily a dress, could be a frock, although I prefer the traditional tweed jacket with leather elbow-patches, brown corduroy trousers and highly polished brown brogues) The Head of PE was due to make the call at 7:30, and the local radio would announce the cancellation at that time.
At 7:35, just as I was driving into the Nuova Lazio High car park, the announcer gave the cancellations for that day.
Only one.
Upper Hutt Cricket.
Oh Hell, that meant our sports were on. It was still drizzling.
We entered the fields at 9:00 taking out all the equipment. Our wonderful ground and caretaking staff had already set up the areas, roping off the danger areas around the javelin, discus, hammer and the pie stall. (Personally, I reckon a Kiwi Pie of Mince & CHEESE is an abomination under God, and should be banned under the unnecessarily high fat foods Act, but our kids love them and have to be strictly controlled when purchasing them, otherwise fist-fights spontaneously erupt) They had also set up some tables
and in my case at the Javelin area, no chairs (Gentle reminder guys, at least 2 chairs next time, OK?)
First job, grabbed a group of Year 10 boys, "Go get two chairs" They did get the chairs. It took them 20 minutes. I saw them approaching through the now heavier drizzle, one poor sod carrying/dragging two chairs at the rear of the group, the other three boys laughing and chatting at the front. (have you ever noticed? There always one person in a group that actualy does the bloody work)
We began to process the students through the Javelin throwing, occasionally watching participants on the track as they passed. One bad sight of the year was a Year 13 boy, who was running in a faithful replica of the notorious (and banned in 23 countries under the bad-taste provisions of the Geneva Convention) Borat Yellow Unitard.
Making a mental note to purchase a wire brush and some Dettol (sometimes removes bad memories, and I could always use it on that stupid bastard Matt, to remind him that Borat was passé) we continued with the Javelin attempts.
By now the rain (no longer drizzle) was coming in across the fields in ever-heavier bands, and it was getting colder.
When I was in the Army, I have spent many hours working or walking under pouring rain, hail and snow. I have marched for miles through cloying mud, scratching gorse and dense woodland. I have even crawled through soaking heather and bogs. But I was always ready and prepared. I wore suitable clothing, which even when soaked through protected me to a certain extent from the elements. And there was always a feeling of an important objective to be reached, a time constraint or a vital task to be completed.
Standing in the rain amongst a bunch of brightly painted kids who really didn't give a rat's arse for the sports but just wanted to have some fun with their mates could not be construed (even by Ringo) as an important/vital task. As the water dripped off the brim of my hat onto the record sheets in my clipboard, and began to wash away the previously recorded names, even as I tried to write the current competitor's name and house, I decided that enough was enough. I began to tell the kids and the other teachers to pack up. I was now soaked through, and it was getting colder.
Every time I moved, I was aware of a feeling of numbness in my shoulders and arms, a feeling of water running down my legs, my bulging varicose veins guiding them into my now squidgy sandals, and a decided lack of numbness in my nether regions, where it felt that the rain had converted my normally robust but soft (and comforting) shorts into at least grade 10 sandpaper.
We began to hear, through the drumming of the now relentless downpour, shouted instructions from the command tent to pack up, head for cover, sauve qui peut mon braves. It was like being at the beaches of Dunkirk, the retreat at the Marne.
And so ended our sports day. Many of the kids buggered off home to get warm and dry, but many staff had to stay, and we sat in our wet clothes and shivered and tried to work.
Then we heard about the Christchurch Earthquake. Tuesday 22nd was not a good day.
It was decided to go ahead with our alternate sports day on Friday, but as the day approached, the weather forecast became worse, with showers promised on the Friday morning.. The decision was made on Thursday to cancel the sports on the next day. Normal classes would resume.
Friday was a lovely day. Warm sun, fluffy high clouds, even a gentle cooling breeze. It would have been a perfect day for the sports.
Weather is odd.
We've been having some odd weather in NZ, which has completely mucked up our sports day(s) in Nuova Lazio High School.
Last Tuesday (the day of the terrible Christchurch earthquake) we were supposed to be having a sports day. Our students were excited about it, not because of having to run around a track in the hot weather, or throwing a metal spear, or jumping over a bar, but because :
1. They didn't have to attend normal classes
2. They were encouraged to wear the most outlandish costumes, based on their house colours (Blue, Yellow, Green and Red) Prizes would be given for the best outfits.
On the morning, I had to leave for school at 7:00 so I would have time to arrange for some relief teachers if the sports were cancelled. (Obviously I didn't have to arrange relief teachers if the sports were on; I mean, who cares if there's 4 instead of 5 teachers supervising the Discus, or the Javelin. Admittedly, having a Year 9 pupil skewered by an erratically thrown Javelin is not to be encouraged (in almost all cases; but I have a little list, they never will be missed) and might even bring the school to the attention of the dreaded press, but adequate sports activities supervision was all arranged, and not my responsibility).
I was dressed for the sports; big floppy sun-hat, cool cotton shirt (blue check, house colours, The BLUE obviously, not the check, unless you're a Czech, then it's modrá) trusty ex-Army shorts that have seen me through 5 house paintings in two countries, really silly pair of Hush Puppy sandals and about ½ litre of factor 50 sunblock.
![]() |
Factor 50 SunBlock is a bit thick |
At 7:35, just as I was driving into the Nuova Lazio High car park, the announcer gave the cancellations for that day.
Only one.
Upper Hutt Cricket.
Oh Hell, that meant our sports were on. It was still drizzling.
![]() |
The Evil that is a Mince & Cheese pie |
and in my case at the Javelin area, no chairs (Gentle reminder guys, at least 2 chairs next time, OK?)
First job, grabbed a group of Year 10 boys, "Go get two chairs" They did get the chairs. It took them 20 minutes. I saw them approaching through the now heavier drizzle, one poor sod carrying/dragging two chairs at the rear of the group, the other three boys laughing and chatting at the front. (have you ever noticed? There always one person in a group that actualy does the bloody work)
![]() |
Badly supervised Javelin |
![]() |
Should be banned world wide. It's just WRONG |
By now the rain (no longer drizzle) was coming in across the fields in ever-heavier bands, and it was getting colder.
When I was in the Army, I have spent many hours working or walking under pouring rain, hail and snow. I have marched for miles through cloying mud, scratching gorse and dense woodland. I have even crawled through soaking heather and bogs. But I was always ready and prepared. I wore suitable clothing, which even when soaked through protected me to a certain extent from the elements. And there was always a feeling of an important objective to be reached, a time constraint or a vital task to be completed.
Standing in the rain amongst a bunch of brightly painted kids who really didn't give a rat's arse for the sports but just wanted to have some fun with their mates could not be construed (even by Ringo) as an important/vital task. As the water dripped off the brim of my hat onto the record sheets in my clipboard, and began to wash away the previously recorded names, even as I tried to write the current competitor's name and house, I decided that enough was enough. I began to tell the kids and the other teachers to pack up. I was now soaked through, and it was getting colder.
Every time I moved, I was aware of a feeling of numbness in my shoulders and arms, a feeling of water running down my legs, my bulging varicose veins guiding them into my now squidgy sandals, and a decided lack of numbness in my nether regions, where it felt that the rain had converted my normally robust but soft (and comforting) shorts into at least grade 10 sandpaper.
We began to hear, through the drumming of the now relentless downpour, shouted instructions from the command tent to pack up, head for cover, sauve qui peut mon braves. It was like being at the beaches of Dunkirk, the retreat at the Marne.
![]() |
The rush to shelter |
Then we heard about the Christchurch Earthquake. Tuesday 22nd was not a good day.
It was decided to go ahead with our alternate sports day on Friday, but as the day approached, the weather forecast became worse, with showers promised on the Friday morning.. The decision was made on Thursday to cancel the sports on the next day. Normal classes would resume.
Friday was a lovely day. Warm sun, fluffy high clouds, even a gentle cooling breeze. It would have been a perfect day for the sports.
Weather is odd.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
Sleep-in Saturday

Too busy yesterday to post anything on the blog.
Reports all finished, printed and posted to the expectant kids and parents.
Nuova Lazio High was virtually empty by 4:00.
Just a few dedicated souls (not me, I was just too tired to move)completing lesson plans for next week, or setting relief for their classes next week.
Reports all finished, printed and posted to the expectant kids and parents.
Nuova Lazio High was virtually empty by 4:00.
Just a few dedicated souls (not me, I was just too tired to move)completing lesson plans for next week, or setting relief for their classes next week.
That last one gives me pause.
How many other jobs do you have to do your work before you get time off.
In teaching, if you have say a doctors appointment during the day, you are expected to plan a lesson for the class(es) you are missing. Have all resources found or created and ready for the class(es), together with a list of pupils and their photographs, everything ready for your temporary replacement.
Even if you phone in sick, you are expected to provide something similar.
When you get back, it's quite common for you to be given the kid's work to mark for feedback.

So time off is not really time off.
Most of us would rather fight our way through a bad cold/flu/Lurgy or whatever, rather than take time off. It's often a lot less hastle.
Going to look at some show houses today.
We might have the option to purchase a really beautiful section in a semi-rural location, quite close to where we are now. My beloved has a really bad back, and we have to be prepared for a time when she will probably have to go into a wheelchair, so building a house with customised access is a definite possibility.
Weather here is still chilly and wet.
I must be getting old, this winter seems colder and wetter than any I can remember in NZ.

Not in Scotland. Even a mild winter in Scotland would seem like a nightmare, even to a farmer in the deeps South.
Be grateful.
You don't know how lucky you are!
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
Teacher only Tuesday

Looking forward to school with no kids. At least that's what most people would think. BUT it depends on what else we're supposed to be doing. Last time it was a big presentation on literacy initiatives, followed by some workshops on the same theme. Sometimes you really wonder that for an education system touted as being so great, and teachers being head-hunted for the Arab states, why the literacy levels of the kids who have just finished 8 years in primary and intermediate schools is so low. Probably like us in the secondary area, far too much has been dumped on us to "teach" apart from our core.
Remember Reading, Writing, 'rithmetic?
Anyway, today is mostly going to be about the NZ New Curriculum. For those not working in the education sector (and on second thoughts, for some of us IN the education sector) the main points are that we have to teach towards these Key Competencies:
Thinking
Using language symbols and text
Managing Self
Relating to others
Participating and contributing.
Sounds really good?
Yeah Right
How do you teach thinking? logic? rationalisation? meditation?
Using language? At last. Back to reading and writing.
Managing Self? Get to school on time, don't hit anybody, don't get stoned at school, listen don't talk, follow the bloody rules
Relating to others? Dont hit anyone, give teacher a cuddle and then get him suspended for improper conduct with a pupil.
Participating and contributing? Group work, co-operative construction...basicaly don't hit anyone and talk to me.
How we're supposed to set up our teaching to accomodate all these is sometimes difficult to see.
Because, we're still supposed to be able to continue our current level of skill transference AND restructure our teaching methods to get across and assess these Key Competencies.
Phew.
But I've kept the worst for last.
Ringo has insisted that we do a session on restorative practices.
This is where you have a meeting with a pupil who has just caused disruption/cursed at you/behaved inappropriately towards you, with the intention of rebuilding the interpersonal relations between you both.
Sometimes it works. It's always worked, even before they've called it Restoratives. There's always been a pupil who's had a bad day, been bullied before, had an argument at home/with boy/girlfriend, who's just snapped and said or done something out of character. They are genuinely sorry about their actions, and mostly a quick quiet chat restores both sides.
Then there's the ones who really don't give a shit. They hate school/you/home/the world. Restoratives are a waste of time in these cases. Get them out of school and give them something productive to do, like land mine clearance, shark wrestling or grave digging (from the bottom).
We will have to endure.
We are teachers.
We are highly respected and highly paid members of society.
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Sundays stink.
I've got the cold, it's raining non stop, I've run out of whisky, Richard (of RBB) is having a real go at the universe, and it's still bloody raining.
Welcome to the ....wait, a light glows at the end of the universal pit of despair. Yes, It's true, Fflur has at last posted anothe blog page.
O frabjous day, Callooh! Calay!
Read on.
Welcome to the ....wait, a light glows at the end of the universal pit of despair. Yes, It's true, Fflur has at last posted anothe blog page.
O frabjous day, Callooh! Calay!
Read on.
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