Who Nose?

So if you came to my class today, you would have thought my students were perhaps a little odd. Here are some phrases I heard more than once today:
"Whose nose is this?"
"There's a nose alone on that table and I think it's Tom's"
"Has anyone seen my nose? It's a monster one."
"Watch out! That's my nose on the floor; don't step on it!"
"May I use some sellotape? My nose tore and I'm trying to fix it."
"Miss, he took my nose."
"Miss, I lost my nose. Have you seen it? It's a nerd one."

And you might have also thought that perhaps I was a little odd, as I said the following things today:
"Who threw that nose? Please return it to its proper owner."
"If your noses are going to disrupt this lesson, I will have to put them in the 'Drawer of No-Return.' Don't worry. No noses were harmed in the teaching of my lessons.

Yes today was Red Nose Day and my school took part in various fund raising activities for Comic Relief, including selling and wearing red noses.

I'm proud to say that the middle school raised £742.31, €7.00, 1 US quarter and 1 Canadian penny. We are an international school based in London, after all.

Political Commentary from Mom and Dad

Tonight was the first time I had spoken with my parents in weeks. Actually to be honest, I think it was more than a month. Anyway, I asked them about all the union busting and general nastiness happening in Wisconsin as well as other states. We spoke about that for a while and then they summed up the workings of the Republicans and the Democrats in the following manner:

My dad: The problem is that Republicans really don't have a voice of their own. They are lead by Fox News and Rush Limbaugh and are too afraid to do anything that might go against them. So, they wind up behaving like idiots.

My mom: And the Democrats don't have a strong singular voice because they're like cats...or Unitarians.

We all laughed.

My parents are Unitarians...and generally vote Democrat.

Pear and Raspberry Loaf Cake

Life's been a bit topsy turvy and I've been a bit distracted and perhaps not really myself, but I'm still baking. Last week I took a recipe I found online and modified it. It was quite yummy. Here is the result:

Pear and Raspberry Loaf Cake

Ingredients:

• Filling
  
• 2 medium pears, peeled and cored, chopped
• 1/4 raspberries (preferably frozen and thawed so that there is a bit of juice to accompany them)

• Crumble
• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• 1/2 cup light brown sugar, packed
• 4 ounces butter, cold, cut in small pieces
• 2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
• 1/3 cup chopped pecans

• Cake
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup granulated sugar
• 2 teaspoons baking powder
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 2 large eggs
• 1/2 cup milk, whole or low fat
• 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
• 4 ounces butter, melted

Preparation:

Grease and flour a 9x5x3-inch loaf pan. Preheat oven to 350°. (Gas mark 4)

Toss chopped pears with lemon juice in a bowl; set aside.

In another bowl, combine crumble ingredients, except pecans, with a fork or whisk until crumbly (of course because it's a crumble), or pulse with food processor. You can also pulse with a hand held mixer. Stir in pecans, if using.

In a mixing bowl, combine flour, sugar, baking powder and salt; stir to blend.

Whisk eggs in a mixing bowl until blended; stir in milk, vanilla, and butter. Add to flour mixture and fold with a wooden spoon or spatula just until dry ingredients are moistened. Do not over mix. Spoon half of the batter into prepared loaf pan; spread out to cover the bottom. Sprinkle batter with half of the pears and half of the crumble. Spoon remaining batter evenly over crumble, spreading carefully to cover. Sprinkle with half of the remaining crumble, the remaining chopped pears and then the remaining crumble.

Bake for 70 to 90 minutes, or until a wooden pick inserted into centre of cake comes out clean. Cool in pan on a wire rack for 10 minutes. Run a knife carefully around sides; invert the cake onto plate. Turn the cake, crumble side up, onto a rack and let cool on a rack completely.

It makes a yummy (and one could argue slight nutritious) breakfast...at least that was my justification to eat it every morning.

So lately I've found myself wondering...

…what if I stood just a little too far over the yellow line? What if I stumbled and fell in front of the train on the Central Line as it came barrelling down the track to scoop up all of us who are shuffling off to the daily grind? Would it hurt very much or would it just be over in a painless second? Aside from the yellow line, there isn't much to separate humans from being insects on the windscreen of a car at the end of the day… or in this case at the beginning

I think this is where I should probably reassure you that I am not pondering throwing myself in front of a train. First, I’ve all too often had my commute fucked up by someone who decided that his/her life wasn’t worth living so they edged out over that yellow line. Second, I have had one too many people I care about choose to voluntarily end their lives, so I know how horrible it feels to wonder if there’s something I could have done to prevent that. Third, I can’t bear to think about how my students would feel about me choosing to end my life prematurely. How many ‘inspirational’ speeches/stories have I made encouraging them to be successful and happy beings by their own definition? So, I don’t push myself over the edge. However, is it only guilt of how my deliberate stumble would affect others that keeps me on the right side of the yellow line?

There’s nothing in my life I can really moan about to be fair. I have a group of great friends. I do interesting things. I have a good job and make decent money. I am in good health (as far as I know). I may be thousands of miles away from my family, but we remain quite close. I see the good and humour in everything and I laugh a lot… a lot. I’m forever making jokes when I probably shouldn’t. But, it makes other people laugh too, or at least smile, so I carry on.

My love life has not been the best, but it’s nothing for me to despair over. I am not attached to anyone presently and in all honesty, I’ve only ever been in love twice. The first time happened over twenty years ago and ended rather tragically with his death and me thinking I could never love again. The second time was much more recent but didn’t work out. We’re now good friends. Neither of these men felt the same way towards me as I did towards them, but they did (and one still does) care about me quite deeply, just not enough to stay with me romantically. Somehow that doesn’t really feel like I’ve loved and lost. More like I loved and drew.

I’m probably too old to have biological children, which is something I do regret quite a bit. I’ve always loved children, thus my choice of career, and have always wanted to have my own. However, that just doesn’t seem to be in the cards, but it is certainly not worth throwing myself in front of a train.

So, I’m not certain why but a strangely macabre thought has danced through my brain as I stand and wait to be carried away each morning. Just as I feel the breath of the train just before the shadow of its lights oozes out of the darkness of the tunnel, I find myself wondering, “What if I stood just a little too far over the yellow line? What if I stumbled and fell in front of the train?"

Don’t worry. I plan on staying firmly put. I’m just curious how much it would hurt if I didn't.