The Queen and Alex

I have been at the Nature Park for enough programmes now that I am starting to recognise the same parents coming back. This morning we had the man who said before and said again to me,
'You sound like the Queen,' to which I replied once again,
'The Queen sounds posher than me.' Then I gave him a short burst of queenly tones to demonstrate.

I spoke to my daughter Alex yesterday. It must have been about two am for her. I remember the days when two o'clock was a time I could stay up for, now it's just a time I wake at unexpectedly sometimes. And very unwelcome it is too when that happens.
My friend Dawn had asked me whether students in the UK often change their subjects and I blithely assured her that no, this was quite rare because it's so complicated to do. Wrong again! Oh yes, Alex has swapped, admittedly her second subject, from drama to American studies. She has to learn some historical cultural context for the literature, so I told her to watch Deadwood. Alex seems to be really enjoying having no money but living in London. Well who wouldn't, apart from the no money bit. But my kitten is the most beautiful young woman on the entire planet, so I'm sure that helps a lot.

I realised - for some reason while doing the washing up yesterday - that I was turning into Ken Adams. You would have to very religiously read my friend Sleepy's blog to have heard of him, and more specifically still, the comments. Mine in fact.
I will explain.
Ken was Head of Science at the first school I worked at. He was what you might call a petite man, although not if you spoke French, you'd have to call him a petit man. And this I feel was his downfall. He was somewhat elfin like, but not in an eldritch way. He was however, abso-blooming-lutely first class at his job. Then the time came when he needed to look for a promotion. He would apply for suitable senior teacher jobs, always get called for interview and never be offered the job. After a while, clearly aware that he was being passed over because of his lack of height, and I'm sure that was what it was, I cannot believe he didn't interview well, eventually he got into the whole interview circus in a different way. He would go to the school, be shown around and when they interviewed him, he would tell them everything that was wrong with their school. He would then come back and entertain us with his tales.

Yesterday afternoon, I went to an 'Employment Fair' which promised resources, employers, yada yada, and all there actually was were wall-to-wall Chinese people and Toys R Us, Old Navy, the Casino, and employers of that ilk.
There was however one professional recruiter so I gave her my CV and made an appointment for Friday.
While I was washing up, I realised that I was looking forward to the interview, that deep down I was hoping that it would provide me with material for stories. I had become Ken.

Ken eventually got a job, I can still remember the name of the school because part of it was 'Haberdashers'. The school that got Ken would have been patting themselves on the back for a long time, but I think there was just a slight tinge of disappointment on his part that his dining out tales were coming to an end.

This morning on the way to taking Laurence to work, a small miracle. Behind me at the correct stopping distance and driving exactly at the speed limit was a red minivan. I was so stunned by encountering such a phenomenon as someone else driving at the correct speed that I kept glancing at it in my mirror. Eventually, the car pulled alongside me and I sighed, realising it was too good to last. But wait, no, it was in fact turning left into the Richmond Christian School.

Lord T'underin' God works in mysterious ways.