Rocking out

in the garden. James was trawling through some tunes and we settled on Linkin Park, Green Day and Foo Fighters.

Odd day. Sad in parts. Year 11 left us today and despite the trials and tribulations that we have as part of the day to day of working with teenagers, it is always hard to see them go. This year's bunch seemed to find it more difficult than previous years, trudging slowly up the driveway, hanging around and with a lot of them returning later in the day. By 3.15 I had seen a number of them who were already saying "Can we come back, we're bored, we want to come back, please". The realisation that the structure, the routine, the 50 adults around them every day, trying to shape them, support them and help them grow into responsible young people has suddenly gone, simply by walking out of the door that last time suddenly hits them. It's a hard thing to watch if truth be told. It doesn't matter how many times we tell them along the way, they don't feel it until it happens and none of us can ever truly explain what it actually feels like.

So goodbye Year 11. You were fab and you will be missed.

It's made me ponder on the reality of this wonderful boy growing up and how quickly it happens. 4 years and he will be sitting his GCSEs. It's a hideous thought. I would like to make time stand still.

I shall not ponder on the negatives of the day. Tomorrow is another day.

Hopefully it will be a lovely day again and we can all jaunt over to the beach at Crosby tomorrow evening to catch the evening sun and watch a sunset over the sea.

The observant amongst you will have spotted the monstrous bruise on Jimbo's leg - a climbing frame war wound from the weekend. He's not even made a fuss about it - just showed it with a triumphant grin as if to say "Look at how tough I am".