Why 1985?

I'm not entirely certain what happened in 1985 but it's my default 'great year'.

The reason I miss it is that time took its own time to pass back then: geological aeons would pass between breakfast and dinner (which, being southern, is at 6pm: anything middayish is lunch). Years went past slowly. These days I've only just finished hoovering up one batch of no-shed spruce tree needles from my carpet when I seem to be hauling in the next year's Christmas tree. My son's life is zooming in front of me so fast.

Back in 1985 lessons plodded by. There were no starters, no group work, no plenaries. Our teachers did not entertain. They educated. Our 'O' levels were an abstract concept. Nobody really knew what we needed to know for them. We did not self-assess. We got essays with a simple letter on them. No targets, no advice. I got called 'scatty' on school reports, because I was.

But I loved school. I miss my old school and the lessons I had with cranky teachers who never used kinaesthetic activities. I miss naivety.

I miss 1985.

So, I doubt anyone will ever read this ...

Due to the fact that I have quite enough to be doing in my life with:
(a) a family
(b) three 'A' level classes depending on me completely
(c) another 'A' level class to be picked up after Christmas

I decided to undertake the only sensible course of action and start a blog. Which will involve many hours of obsessively checking whether anyone is reading the darned thing, rather than doing the million-and-one things that should be higher on my list of priorities.

For example, the time on my computer is 18:56 and my child is still sat in the lounge playing: despite the fact that he really ought to be washed, snuggled into pyjamas and be enjoying an educational and enjoyable read with me. Instead I'm on here wittering into a silent cyberspace.

Farewell appropriate use of time, hello timewasting.