Showing posts with label frogspawn and tadpoles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label frogspawn and tadpoles. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 March 2010

They must think I'm mad...

I met two former pupils today, shopping. At least, I was shopping. They were hanging out in the cafe.
They only left two years ago, but they've shot up and are now, at 13, almost as tall as I am. I managed not to comment.
Anyway, the twins - Andrew and Peter - rushed over to say hello. And I was really pleased to see them.
Eventually, they managed to ask me how school was.
"Oh, it's good," I said. "I have frogspawn on my desk, so it can't be bad. I'm always hopeful, but I have never yet managed to achieve frogs hopping all over the classroom."
They smiled weakly. I don't think that's quite what they meant.
I made my excuses and said goodbye. Quickly.
Mad? I think I might be...


The frogspawn and tadpoles...

Monday, 23 March 2009

Catch up

Thought I’d just catch up on myself for a while. Since starting my Lent thoughts, there hasn’t been much time for jotting down on the blog. Neither does it seem very important, actually. So, looking back, I seem to start thoughts – but not finish.

Take the school inspection. It was a LOT of work to get ready for it. And I mean a lot. The week before, I stayed at school until gone 7 for two of the evenings – only leaving because I had another meeting to go to. It wasn’t HARD work, just time-consuming as we tidied up in all areas: making sure the classrooms were as neat and tidy as possibly, tidying up the children’s work, tidying up our planning and paperwork, tidying our desks, tidying our minds. I guess I was tidied out by the time the inspectors arrived, and the time they were here wasn’t at all stressful. Just busy and a little tense. It was a gift every time I taught an unobserved lesson – and the children benefited. My teaching is twice as good when there is no one looking – or, I should say, only half good enough when someone is. And, in the end, I was only observed three or four times in two days, so not bad really.

So that was that.

Another major excitement was the tadpoles. Joseph brought in some quite mature tadpoles in an ice cream box, the same day I tried again with another batch of frogspawn. I’ve managed to put the photos onto a powerpoint presentation and run it every morning for the children to see their progress. Plus, of course, the little crowd that peers in at the little wrigglers several times a day.

Then there are the willow shoots in a vase, sending out roots under water.

It’s all quite fascinating. “Mrs P, why have you got tadpoles on your desk?” asked one child. “And why have you got twigs?”
“For fun,” I replied.
“For fun?” was the puzzled answer. “Just for fun?”
“Of course. The fun of watching things grow. Just watch how these roots are going!”

But the main excitement has been the multiplying of the talents. I’ve talked about it over at Words From God For Today, where I’ve given all the boys in the year £1 each, to keep safe or to multiply for The Tumaini Fund (supporting AIDS widows and orphans in Tanzania). I have never seen children so enthusiastic or excited about what they are doing, nor so confident in explaining to others. Every break time sees a room full of excited children, looking at the cakes and crafts for sale, negotiating, spending their money.

One of the boys keeps forgetting to bring his money. One day, his friend bought him a cake. Sharing. Kindness. Helpfulness.

It makes it all so worthwhile. I love my job.

Sunday, 15 March 2009

Tadpoles

Oh dear. Tadpoles are no more. Several of them hatched out at school, but then the tank started to get mucky. And scummy. And stinky.

I called in school wildlife expert Joseph, aged 9. 'They need pond weed,' he pronounced, a slight frown on his face as he stared at the tank. 'I'll bring some tomorrow.' He did. Things didn't improve.

I called him in again. 'Two thirds of the water needs changing,' he asserted, the frown now deeper. He and a friend duly did this, using water from the school pond. Then we noticed the leech.

It wasn't until I had successfully trapped the leech, releasing it back into the pond, that I realised how truly smelly the water was. I had to wash my hands several times with soap to get rid of the smell.

So we emptied the contents of the tank back into the pond. The leech was happy.

No more tadpoles.

However, I did notice more frogspawn in our pond at home...

Wednesday, 4 March 2009

Just a little thought...

Just a little post - most of my writing is on Words from God for today, a blog I started for Lent on the back of some daily reflections which friends are allowing me to email to them. (That way, I'm accountable to them: I can't let a day slip by without doing SOMETHING!).

Anyway, this little post is to talk about my tadpoles. Hundreds of them, hopefully. They're all at frogspawn stage at the moment, sitting in a glass tank on my desk at school.

Fascinating.

Every morning a small crowd of boys gathers round to examine their progress. We saw one hatch yesterday - a tadpole, I mean, not a boy. It wriggled around until he popped out of his sack of jelly. I guess it was a he?

I can't keep my eyes off the little creatures. I keep peering into the tank, searching out the 'wrigglers'.

The boys think the frogspawn is cute - but not that cute. They also think I'm mad. (Yes, it's true, I've heard the whispers as they watch me gazing at the lumps of wet jelly.)

Never mind.