The Teaching Profession

This is how it happened.  I accompanied the Current Mrs Creel, and our guest Sophia, of Sanquhar Den, around our doorstep coastal walk.  We met Eleanor (an ex-colleague of CMC’s) and Angus.  Within seconds I felt as though I was in (yet another) EIS meeting.  However Angus was able to give me an update of local resurfacing and an update of pulling through the fibre optic.  Meeting over we strolled 200 yds and met another of CMC’s ex-colleagues, Cherie.  I took the minutes at another EIS meeting.  The wimmin fowk then all proceeded home and I was despatched.  With no specific aim - just dispatched.  So I waffled about the coast, did a bit of beachcombing, and when I felt it was safe I went home.  I’d forgotten about our other guests from Hawick who were consuming raspberry cream cake in my porch.

This reminded me of the time I was at a Gig in Elgin a few years back.  We got there early to meet folk and, in the company of nineteen, I was the only one who wasn’t a teacher.  However everyone assumed I was.  To get in the spirit of things I nodded and threw board dusters around.  I suppressed the urge to put leather patches on my elbows.  And not on my jacket - I mean on my elbows. 

I’m sure Prokofiev never had to take EIS meeting minutes.  Although of course he did have to tussle with Jose Raul Casablanca in a chess exhibition in 1914.  And don’t forget, despite having been World Champion, Jose himself had to struggle with very high blood pressure.  A bit of beachcombing along Scapa Flow may have soothed his troubled brow.

I feel better for having shared this.  You probably don’t feel the better for having it read it.  But thank you.