I had Friday off work so that I could go and see Cake Worm perform in the school’s Tudor Banquet. I should probably explain what is involved with a Tudor banquet but I’m awfully tempted just to leave it up to your own imaginations. OK year 5 have been studying the Tudor period recently and you know how dry it is remembering the names of all of Henry VIII’s six wives and the order he married them in. Well, in order to spice things up a little Cake Worm’s teach, Bod, puts on a school banquet, wherein the students take on the roles of lords and ladies of the period.
They base it in 1533 because Henry is firmly married to wife number two, Anne Boleyn, Archbishop Cranmer was appointed and supports the king, he’s been excommunicated by the pope, has recently been beating the crap out of the Scot and just about anyone else who he wanted to, and he has a most excellent flagship, The Mary Rose that is about to be refitted to hold 91 guns.
Anyway, the teachers and assistants take the role of wenches and peasant servants and the Lords and Ladies entertain their king with traditional music, dumb shows, juggling, sword fighting and wrestling. The Hildy has spent weeks making a costume for Cake Worm as have all the other mums and dads and the whole year was resplendent in period dress. Bod took on the role of Henry and played it up to the hilt by getting possessed by the spirit of King Henry and mistaking some of the pupils for period characters.
I must say that this is absolutely the greatest method of teaching that I have ever seen. It really grabbed the kids interest and they were looking things up for themselves and finding out about the important figures and events of the time.
So Friday was good until the evil estate agent rang me at 5pm to tell me that the offer for my house had been withdrawn and that they would have to start marketing it again. My good mood went from a record high in recent months to a Big Angry Face of annoyance in seconds. I must now hunt down and kill the people who no longer wish to live in my house. There is no other option.
Saturday was spend in utter boredom as I went to see a mortgage advisor. As an aside Mal really is an odd name for a woman. She was ever so excited that they would lend me the amount I need to buy le château de grenouille. Like I’d have put an offer in if I wasn’t sure that they would. She spend an hour and a half giving me various options that essentially boiled down to a difference of £50 a month and an arrangement fee of nothing to £1000. I could have looked on t’Internet at work and got paid for this research. My mood grew darker at this point.
Sunday was spent painting over worn patches with magnolia paint and generally growling at everything from the cat to the telephone. I really hate painting.
Luckily I won the lottery so that cheered me up somewhat. I spent my winnings on some books and a Chinese takeaway.
Now would someone please buy my house.