Good Morning from a gloriously cold and frosty Somerset.
Breakfast at the Pattisson table this morning felt a somewhat foreign affair and yet one that had significant amounts of deja but mixed in. The reason for this was that the main topic of conversation was who wanted what in their packed lunch for school tomorrow! As you can imagine ensuring all four of the loons receive the right ingredients in their sandwiches, and then they are put in the correct lunchbox, is an operation that requires military precision and planning and if it’s wrong one could be forgiven for thinking that upon their return from school you had committed a crime against humanity! The day has arrived and tomorrow the loons all return to their respective schools and The Pattisson Academy of Academic Excellence has, we hope, closed its doors for the final time. It would be untrue to suggest that everyone is over the moon at this prospect as a return to real school, catching early morning buses, meeting up with mates and not being allowed to go and play cricket whenever there is a break will undoubtedly feel as foreign as once upon a time not going to school did. But it seemed to Mrs P and I that it was a cause for much celebration and so invitations were issued for an end of Home-schooling Awards evening, Dinner dance/disco. This took place last night of which I will report more later.
So, we sent out the invitations and the instructions were clear Dress was to be Smart, Dancing was compulsory and punctuality essential. We were to dine upon a delivered feast from our wonderful local pub ‘The Duke Of York’ after the ceremony. Well they didn’t disappoint they all dressed to up to their nines in their favourite clothes and having been presented with the medals that Mrs P had found and had engraved on the back with their names and hung round their necks with rainbow NHS ribbon, WE DANCED!! I am hopefully not one for blowing his own trumpet but I have a long held belief that I am a very, very fine mover and indeed groover on the dance floor. I quickly joined the girls and demonstrated one of my throwback to ‘Brighton Night clubs in the early 90s’ routines. Their reaction was at best unappreciative born out of an ignorance of being in the presence of a true artiste. At worst it was cruel, resembled bear baiting in the 1700s and was tantamount to bullying. The howls of laughter and refusal to be anywhere near me let alone dance with me will leave deep, deep scars I fear. I comfort myself with the fact that many of the truly great creative forces were not recognised until long after their demise. However, it was a great party and a fitting farewell to the Pattisson Academy of Academic Excellence. We are all desperate to get back to a normal life and lets hope we really are a good step closer come Monday morning.
I will wish you a lovely restful Sunday and remember words like “you cleared that dancefloor like a ticking bomb” are simply spoken by those that don’t understand!
My very, very best regards,
Jess
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