A 12 year old next door apparently hates religious education, likes English and is OK with his maths "as long as there is someone who can teach it". He writes music, makes wonderful books full of Songs, sticks papers together in a peculiar fashion, partially illustrated. Is very able to carry a decent conversation with a near-seventy year old, no swearwords. He plays many instruments, or so i've been informed and is full of opinions about his former school system. I want to hear it, see it. There are poems too. The truth is... in a need, a sudden urge to offload a piece of music coming from nowhere like avalanche into one's mind. I have no right words to talk about it. My English is dead and repetitive, disgrace to someone with a large enough vocab. Want to see the kid for myself.
Sweet. One am. What I was going to say... This year has been all in fractures, almost unable to make one single pie out of it. Less faces, and where is our "team spirit" (utterly Jonny's play on words :)? Attitudes have changed not necessarily for the best. Gosh I miss US. If anyone reads this... we are in a separate togetherness. Naive... (not "Super") but will hope that our year - and the other years - can get together again. We are one big loony farm-family type establishment, lets keep it that way.
P.S. photographed a pretty whirlpool at Gylly the other day
1 comment:
Holly, I see through you, that's not a kid next door, that's you.
Didn't know about the robot arm though...
Derek
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