Tim Atkinson's Blog, page 111

Yoffy Lifts a Finger...

... and a mouse is there; puts his hands together and a seagull takes the air.

Yoffy lifts a finger, and a scampi darts about, 

Yoffy lifts another, and a tortoise head peeps out...



Well, Yoffy might, but we just stuck to the mouse:







I know CBeebies is the bees knees and all that, but sometimes simple seventies pleasures are what your heart desires. We have the DVD box-set of Trumptonshire (Pugh, Pugh, Barney McGrew, Cuthbert, Dibble, Grub); I wanted to call Charlie's prospective sibling C...

Back to school

You know, people tend to think this time of year is all about nervous new pupils, worried parents and reluctant teachers. And it is, of course. But I feel I ought to introduce a fourth category here: the nervous newbie teacher. Especially as that was me this morning: up with the lark, on with a jacket and tie and into the car before eight o'clock; into a staffroom (as a member of staff) for the first time in two years and then - nails nervously bitten - into a classroom. You know, one with pu...

Meet Bob

Here he is, a little underfed perhaps, a trifle pink but don't let that mislead you - his name is Bob, and he's a he. Charlie told me. And who am I to argue, especially as 'Bob' was vouchsafed into my son's tender care today by a police officer. Allow me to explain, not that it'll do much good.

Circumnavigating our somewhat third-world park this morning, and having noticed a distinct lack of early-morning vodka swilling, we chanced upon a nee-naw complete with tent and complement of law-enf...

Is TV Bad for your Children?

I've posted about this before; so has almost every other parent-blogger. And earlier this morning, there was a fascinating discussion on twitter between @AlyBean, @Urbanvox. @WhimsicalWife and @CafeBebe about the rights and wrongs of letting the moving television screen work it's magic on the infant mind.



For something that's hardly been around a hundred years, television seems to have a lot to answer for. Does violence breed violence? Does passive viewing breed passivity? Is watching telly ...

Sunday Supplement

In my last post I happened to mention the world's best fish 'n' chip shop, in Bridlington. Well, this being Bank Holiday weekend and all that, I thought it'd be unfair to keep the details to myself and if you're on the East Coast at the moment, you'll probably need to do a spot of comfort eating.But first, this:

Yes. Pregnancy... for men. After all, no matter how involved we might be, how many classes we attend, how sympathetic we are, we're mere men. As such, the whole pregnancy thing can b...

Hull Streetlife Museum

I've just spent a lovely couple of days on the Yorkshire coast, taken in some cricket (in gorgeous late-summer sunshine) eaten what I'm coming to think might be the best fish-n-chips in the world and visited a couple of Hull's renowned cultural attractions. No, I'm not joking! Although it's always had that end-of-line isolation (unless you're catching North Sea Ferries), was flattened by the Luftwaffe, saw it's industry ruined and had the dubious distinction of being represented in parliament...

Pants!

I don't take much notice of what I wear beneath my trousers (that's 'pants' for any US readers, btw). I couldn't really care less what colour, pattern, label or material I'm wearing as long as it's comfortable, which almost always means, for me, a pair of boxers. I know, I know: too much information. Bear with me (not literally, of course) and you'll soon see where this is going. New paragraph. Books. One book in particular: Dinosaurs love Underpants. Here it is...



It's wonderful. And...

Making the grade...

You know, there's an awful lot of tosh talked about exams, results, standards and qualifications at this time of year. And I'm going to add to the pile this morning by stating a few simple facts which seem to escape most commentators. The first is this: standards aren't falling. Yes I know more people pass these days, but the reason for that is simple. Students are (wait for it) marked on the quality of what they do in the exam these days. I know! Shocking, isn't it? Why, oh why they can't si...

What's in a name?

A rose by any other, after all, would smell as sweet (to paraphrase the original). Wouldn't it? So what's the big deal?



Having had the second-trimester scan last week, we now know the sex of Charlie's sibling-in-waiting. And we've started thinking about names. Sarah's begun making a list; I'm sharpening my red pencil. Although this time it should be easier as the only girls to cross my path professionally in the last fifteen years or so have been the nice sort you tend to get in the sixth-fo...

Mind your language!

Do you swear? I don't mean the odd 'bloody' or 'damn' when the hammer hits your thumb, but the strategic use of Anglo-Saxon in the face of adversity. Don't get me wrong; I recoil when I hear the 'F' word being overused as verb, noun, adjective, adverb and possibly, on occasion, effing conjunction. But swearing is like having your elbows on the table, talking with your mouth full or slurping from the cereal bowl in my book: it's knowing when you can and when you can't that's the secret of good...