Spoilt for Choice

What another cracking day - brilliant sunrise, blue skies all day and lovely sunset, which I enjoyed on the beach with Dimairt. The sun was going down, and I thought I would take my shoes off to have a paddle - after all, it's spring, isn't it? When the sun went down, though, the cold kicked in. Walking back along the boardwalk, there was frost on the ground where the sun hadn't penetrated all day. Result? Frostbitten feet. Well, not quite, but Dimairt wasn't the only one pleased to get the heater on in the car.

Even the job went well today; lots of stuff done about Oliver, although masses more to do.

Had a good laugh after the last rehearsal. Hugh, the Business Studies teacher, is playing Noah Claypole, the undertaker's assistant. He had to go out the door into the corridor, and pretend that he was shouting at Oliver - "Open the bleeding door, you workhouse brat!!", "I'm going to give you a good kicking when I get a hold of ya!!" - that sort of thing.
Hugh really entered into the spirit of things, and although he can't quite do the cockney accent yet (so far, a mixture of Scouse and Rab C Nesbitt), he more than made up for it in enthusiasm and booming voice. Little did we know the Depute Head, the Head, various teachers and the Janny had come out of their rooms, and all rushed up to the hall.
They thought that some drunken idiot had invaded the school and was creating a rammy, even becoming violent with someone. All of this went on without our knowing, and it says a lot for my colleagues that they just shook their heads, laughed and went back to their jobs.
The rumours were rife amongst the kids, though. Who was getting a bollocking? What teacher was going ballistic?

Good to keep them guessing........