Digigran

Edward is pictured in the Skoda pick-up as a v. young pup.
(He loves the pick-up and usually feels v. safe when sitting on the passenger seat)
However...


Just when I thought that nothing more exciting could happen to Edward this week, my beloved, usully the most reliable of men did something rather silly.
Our garden in Nottingham is infested with grey squirrels, who, dissatisfied with the accommodation provided by a splendid range of trees surrounding the property, have taken to squatting in the attics. Squirrel Nutkins they are not. They leave evidence of their destructive habits by the scattering insulating material from the atticsover the borders nearest the house. They also bury conkers everywhere- especially in my pots.They dig up bulbs and I am sure they eat them.

Digidoc enraged by the assault on his property, determined to eradicate the newest little pest and all his family. In D.doc's defence, the said squirrel had already destroyed three bird feeders and a newly planted tree. To accomplish this he purchased a humane trap from the pet shop, which he loaded liberally with mixed nuts.
Of course the aerial rat (D.doc's term) could not resist these treats as they were the very best of nuts,Waitrose organics, left over from a dinner party. One squirrel was successfully trapped. This left Digidoc with something of a dilemma. How to dispose of the creature ?

Although D.doc detests grey squirrels, he is v. tender-hearted re all animals and is unable to kill them. (Perhaps it's an extension of the Hippocratic oath). He decided to liberate it in the woods , which line the Via Gellia, the main road to our Derbyshire cottage from Cromford.
He put the cage and its contents in the back of our small pick-up truck, placed Edward in the front seat of said vehicle and drove into the Peak District. Once outside Cromford, he drew into a lay-by, selecting a spot where folk often stop to leave out scraps for the local wild life, including peanuts for the squirrels. Gingerly he lifted out the cage.

Now, as I have perhaps told you before, Edward is very keen on chasing squirrels and noticed this manoeuvre. Eager to be part of the action, he jumped around in the van's cab, scrabbling to get out so vigorously that he mangedsimultaneously. to lock both doors and set off the wipers

Unfortunately,Digidoc had left the keys in the ignition with the engin running.
What to do? All windows were securely closed and there was no obvious wayto get in. The cab was getting hotter and hotter and Edward was beginning to pant- soon he would be gasping for breath. Digidoc loves his pick-up truck- See why here , but he loves Edward more,
See above, a picture of the pair taken outside the cottage.

So resolutely, he selected a large rock from the verges and began to smash it against the side window. The window did not break immediately but after several attempts finally imploded, spreading shards of glass everywhere. Edward, cowering in the foot well was unhurt but very traumatised. Surprisingly none of the many lorry drivers or motor cyclists who passed the scene stopped to see what was going on!

The pair arrived at the cottage, both looking very sorry for themselves.

I nursed Edward on my lap and spoke soothing words to them both.
But I could just imagine the comments if I had contrived to lock the dog in a car and come home with a busted window. I know who would have been blamed and it wouldn't have been the dog!
Still it makes a good vignette and is a diversion from the marking.

Inspired by Dr Kate' astonishingly good foray into the world of literature , but doubtful of my ability to emulate her brilliance in the campus novel, I have decided to begin my own alternative writing career much more simply, with a series of children's books, set in the little village in Derbyshire peak District where I live for half of the week. I shre my time between them rather t like the kidsin the Squid and the Whale. This is a most dreadful, but wonderful film, inspiring in me Aristotelian emotions of pity and fear. You must all see it and take note of it's stark message about the effect of adult bad behaviour i=on their children's lives. Oh that awful father/professor man, Bernard ( you must place accent on the last syllableof his name. Personally, I could find nothing much wrong with the mum except in her agreeing to his ludicrous plans re joint custody. Her choice of the tennis pro as new partner seemed eminently preferable to the frightful opinionated father. To follow what I'm on about see this review

Anyway, I have been intending to write short stories for Alexander ever since he was born but have lacked the courage to get started. Now, stimulated by Kate's work, which is truly brilliant,I am taking the plunge.
I want to write animal stories based on my dog, Edward's life without the tweeness or dressing up element of the stuff I read as a kid, Brabbits and Beatrix Potter, little grey rabbits and Alison Uttley, peruvian Bears and Michael Bond,and of course dear Edward Bear and Tigger and Rabbitin A.A. Milne etc. I intend to complete a series with an opening story which introduces me and Edward and the village , but as a little story from my own fieldwork is already in my head, I will begin there.
Here goes.

Edward and the Bold Bad Rat

Dear Little One, I recently told you how much Elaine and Edward enjoy their walks in the hills which surround Little Tor, the Derbyshire village where they live and how they often find adventures when they are out walking. They also like to make visits to friends in the morning, have a little something and take a look around a new place, so they were delighted when your other granny, Jules, said she and her dog, Suki, would like them to come for a walk with them.
Jules and Suki live in beautiful old farm house on a country estate. There is a large lake, a swiftly flowing stream and dark pine woods. Edward likes to walk there because there are so many wonderful places to poke his nose in and sniff out other creatures. He can smell lovely scents from the squirrels, rabbits, hares and pheasants who live there. Suki likes that too and is good at leading Edward to lots of special hiding places. Suki specially likes chasing the pheasants. The pheasants are being looked after very carefully so that the men with long guns can shoot them for fun. There are lots of them. But Jules warns that the gamekeeper might even shoot them if they doesn't do what Elaine says and keep close to her. Edward listens carefully to this. he knows what had happened to the sandy dog in Little Tor who had ran away from his owner when he was young to chase the sheep in the top field. He had had one eye shot out by the farmer and now only goes out on a lead. Edward would hate having to stay on his and he knowsknows he must never chase sheep.

When they arrived at Jules' house they found her looking a little worried.
"My dear," she said to Elaine, "I think that rats have moved into my
out house and are sneaking into the house at night. They have been nibbling through storage bags, gobbling up the corn kept for the pheasants and have made nests in the woodpile. There is a particularly big bold rat who runs on my work tops and steals from my vegetable baskets. Suki can smell him but is much too frightened to catch him and I do not know how to get him
out."
Edward's ears pricked up when he heard the word rats. He knew he was particularly clever at finding out the places where rats and mice like to hide and
hoped that Jules would let him chase them for her. He had been told by his
mother, when he was a very young puppy, all about his ancestor John Joiner.
John Joiner had saved naughty,Tom Kitten from the dreadful fate of being baked in a roly-poly pudding by Anna Maria and Samuel Whiskers. Edward hoped he could do something brave too. He had already chased a fierce old rat away from the compost heap at home in Little Tor and was sure he could be very helpful and get rid of Jules' unwanted visitor. He was very pleased when he heard Elaine say,
"That is very serious, Jules, you can't let rats live here. We must let Edward have a look when we come back from our walk. He is very good at sniffing rats out and has already caught two\of them who tried to live in my compost heap." Jules agreed.

First, they went for a lazy, long walk around the estate and through the village. The sort of walk Edward really likes with lots of time for exploring new places. He and Suki ran arounf d together playing chase in the fields and and hide and seek in the woods.They passed a field full of ewes with their new lambs and they were very careful not to chase them at all. Suki startled a hare in a field and Edward rushed round and round in a circle, trying to catch him for her, but the hare was much too quick and got away from both of them quite easily.
By another cottage, where two small dogs were yapping firercely, they came across a large group of pheasants and ran straight at them, just to watch them whirr up into the sky, making their crackling call, but both dogs came straight back to
Elaine and Jules when they called out crossly,"Come here you two, or you will be shot."

They climbed over stiles from field to woodland and crossed a fast flowing stream on a narrow, wooden plank to the village green. They watched as the ducks dabbled in the village pond or weed. Edward paddled in the shallows to get a better look at the frogs who were hiding in the reeds. In the village, Jules helped the post man find the right house to deliver a big parcel. Edward was disappointed because Jess, the cat, was not in his van. "A pity," thought Edward, "No one shoots dogs for chasing cats." He did find a large black and white cat on a shed roof to bark at, but it was not as good as chasing one.

Finally they got back to the house and Jules made some toast with lavender honey and a strong cup of tea. Perhaps you remember , my little one, that Edward particularly likes toast and honey. He likkes honey just as much as his namesake, Edward Bear, who you know better as the inimitable, Winnie the Pooh. Edward made sure he got his share of toast by sitting up straight and looking very longingly at Elaine, who finally gave him a little something. Suki was contented with her chicken and biscuits

After this little treat, they all went out into the yard. Edward felt a prickle of excitement as he began to catch the scent of small animals hiding there and when Jules opened the big wooden doors to the old barn he began to wag his tail from side to side in expectation. He rushed straight in. Suki followed him eagerly. A shaft of light illuminated the dark, musty place, full of cobwebs and spiders.In the gloom at the darkest end he found a large woodpile, smelling strongly of rats.
Now, my little one, you must not worry about what happens to the rats. Rats are horrible creatures. They sneak into your home and steal all manner of food stuffs. They hide their supplies in nooks and crannies. They are very dirty in their habits and leave a strong smell of decay around the place. There was a very strong, stale, musty smell in the barn.

Suki ran straight to the woodpile and sniffed intently, pointing with
her nose to where she thought rat might be. Edward followed her. He yelped and whined and sniffed and scratched at the logs. He pushed hiis nose into a hole in the pile and continued to scrabble, his bottom sticking up in the air, his tail wagging madly.
"That's a good sign there is rat's in there," said Elaine, "He always whines with excitement when he can smell something."
Jules lifted a big top branch from the pile and immediately a rat peered out and darted straight back in again. Edward dived after it and in a trice he came out with a huge, fat rat in his jaws. He shook it and shook it savagely, but it bit at his nose with its sharp yellow teeth and he dropped it from his mouth onto the dark, grainy floor. The rat seemed huge. It stood on it's back legs looking very fierce indeed.

Jules and Elaine were frightened as they knew rats can bite badly and it was trying to get Edward's throat. But Edward was not afraid. He pounced quickly on the rat again and grabbed it by its neck. He shook it and shook for what seemed along time until it went quite still. He dropped his prize at Jules' feet.
" Good boy," shouted Jules, "Well done!" and she picked the dead rat up with a spade that was hanging on the wall and carried it out to her bonfire in the garden.
" Now the other rats in there will gather all their little rats together and leave the out house, just like the rats did in theTale of Samuel Whiskers," said Elaine.
You may want to read this stroy, my little one. It was written by Beatrix Potter who is famous for telling us stories about Peter Rabbit and Jemima Puddleduck. They all lived in the country too.
" Next time Edward comes he can check all the sheds again to
make sure they have not come back," said Jules. Edward felt very important . He was a barn inspector now. What a responsible job for a young dog!


And that, my little one, is how a quiet morning visit to a friend turned into another big adventure for Edward. Elaine was proud of Edward and when they got home she gave him his favourite treat, crunchy pig's ear, for a job well done. Edward curled up in his basket with it and Elaine went back to her computer to write.


So that's the story
I will add the pictures next time. If there are any children out there who canread it and give me an opinion, I would be very happy to have your comments. There will be photos to go with the story soon.
And so to mark.

Tales from the kitchen cabinet
Have been listening to tales from the other grans about the frustrations of being grandparent. It's a bit like when you are pregnant and people begin to tell you all about their birthing experiences -and these are never good. Same for grand-parenting, here's an example.
Jane has a new granddaughter and is eager to see her as much of her as possible. Well I can relate to that- it's natural isn't it? She lives quite near her and has offered to babysit whenever. Her son thinks this is a good idea , but the family needs two kinds of baby -sitting and Jane always draws the short straw. She gets the dog!
The dog's name is Wilson and he is a Basset Hound.



















Jane is not very fond of Basset hounds. This one's called Wilson. She says he's just a big lump of useless meat that won't do anything she says, just stares at her mournfully. He slobbers continually and gets the stuff on his ears. His paws, which are the size of a young lion's, leave huge dirty prints on her kitchen floor. He is too big to shift when he decides not to move too.
And it gets worse- Wilson finds it really hard to settle at night and howls or whimpers at the least hint of movement or noise. Jane has even found herself tip-toeing past him hiding behind a sheet, trying not to wake him- but of course he is a Basset and always does detect her movements and greets them with howls. He also has a habit of leaving nasty, slobbery, wet nose tracks up and down the kichen as he follows her scent to- the fridge!
Poor Jane, she likes most dogs - but not Wilson and yet she never gets offered the baby, it always stays with her daughter-in-law's mum.
She puts it down to a careless remark she madewhen the first grandchild was born. She had three months colic and cried most of the time. At a family gathering- a barbeque in the garden - the babe was howling and Jane remarked (humorously, she thought) "If it were mine, I'd put it in the gagarge". Her d-in-l did not find this at all amusing and refused to bring the baby for a long while after.
Jane has offered to pay for Wilson to stay here.

It is a top dog hotel, boasting

Our Accommodation
To ensure the comfort and security of your dog during their stay at Dunston Lodge:
Each room is generously proportioned, with an inner sleeping area, leading out to a covered, outer play area.
All rooms are heated and have access to natural daylight, with each room also having an individual heater lamp, to provide additional warmth and light.
Raised beds, with plenty of bedding and blankets are provided, although you are welcome to bring your own if you prefer, as well as any other toys or accessories that may add to your dog's comfort and enjoyment.

A most luxurious establishment which Edward loves. When I leave him he makes loads of friends with both the kennel maids other dogs of all shapes and sizes. He comes home frisky and perfectly groomed like this:
Jane's d-in-l can't be convinced. Wilson she says is already psychologically disturbed (i.e. very jealous of the baby) and she thinks sending him to a dog hotel, however good , would make him suicidal. Has anyone ever hear of dogs committing hari-kari? Would that be canicide? No that would only be applicable if Jane were to do in Wilson! But if you have heard of any dog wiflfully self-harming, please write and tell me, also let me have your own stories of grandparenting traumas- told from either point of view.
And so to marking!

Joolz is right about Vic Carrington. She is clever. See this post. Look what I have learned to do from reading her blog , thanks also to Flickr.
My own sense of spatiality is hopeless. I can't ever work out how to back back in a car or remember how to redo a route with lots of left turns the other way round. But I do agree with what Kate comments on my last post about the spatial dimension of BLOGGING and the importance of the arrangement on the page. This is something I can work on. AND MUST DO BETTER However my next post will be dedicated to the downside of grandmotherhood as related to me by colleagues and friends. If you have a vignette to offer- get ready for next time. A I think about it these could be key incidents in a joint novel.See. Think about it Kate.
And so back to the marking, yet again.

The number of postings I've read recently about the anxieties attendant on a) being an academic and b) needing to write about what you do, whilst having avery critical and self-critical audience, has made me think long and hard again about the way we approach the teaching of writing, particularly in school.
When writing is going well, it simply flies from the fingers, as fast as pen or keys can manage it. When it isn't flowing then nothing can be more dispiriting, drawn out or boring. I conjure up instantly pictures of the many children in school I have observed sighing over their work with arms folded across their papers, eyes down, simply begging for a bell to end their misery. The sheer drag of the pen, the vastness of the expanse of paper stretching before them are a penal sentence none of them think they deserve. This photo by Doisneau always represents this for me- even though I know his photos were always staged
- a bit like Dr Joolz's images of sweets. See below:












I started to write this post at the end of March and then my other life seemed to intervene- I had some real writing to do, some entertaining, visits from Alexander and gardening to sort out so I never quite got back to finishing this post. (Oh, and a sick sister to visit and a funeral to attend- though these two things are not connected at all.)
Meanwhile all those angst ridden academics were having the time of their lives in St Francisco see Dr Kate and so obviously the writing came in full flow. I'm so envious . The messages being sent home were a bit daunting- Kate cites Colin and Michele's dictum that you're only as good as your last post- so what a poor out-dated thing am I, then - a thing of rags and patches witho new thoughts.Still I mean to press on with this stuff about why people write and how we get kids to do authentic stuff in school.
I went to a presentation by the QCA about the new big ideas in curriculum development which seemed as if it would be addressing the future and the impact of changes in the way we communicate and develop ourselves through education and then I found that everybodyelse there seemed driven by very old ideas like employability, functionality and the gold-standard of the current examination system. So how will this big idea ever get them writing in school and more importantly, help them to get satisfaction from what they do? I agree with Dr Kate that BLOGs are about affinity spaces so if there are people still reading this BLOG who share my concerns and have new thoughts to add to the debate on writing please join in. I have just written an editorial for English in Education's Summer Issue and I intend to get this ionto the NATE website as soon as Easter has been and gone. My own experienceof BLOGGING is that it does stimulate the desire to write and the potential of a real and perhaps critical audience makes me revise and reedit as I go along. I sometimes get scared and inhibited too- but then I read someone else's post and want to respond and the delight in writing starts again. This makes me think that giving our kids more internet space and reasons to write for others would help to give that practicein expression and position taking that no amount of functional literacy delivered in packages can possibly do.

And so to the Bumbo. See picture at the top of this post and here.
I sometimes forget the purposeof this BLOG is to explore my new state of being a gran and revert to my other self, especially when I am feeling left outof the big academic scene .
Well, I am still learning. Alexander came to visit over the weekend with his dad and brought one of these with him! Yes he did enjoy the big touch and feel book about the Wheels on the Bus which I had bought- but the world he is growing up in has many other ways of presenting meanings. He sat inhis Bumbo and olayed with the remote control on the television too. He is now just four months old!






So how is the curriculum that is being devised going to work out for him? Will he still be writing A level essaysin 2004 or will the curriculum really have evolved by then? Answers on a postcard to...