Let's Have a Conclave...

I've been reminiscing about my previous career. Indulge me! 

Ms Bond, Y4 teacher.
I'm role playing a
passport control
officer, if it wasn't clear.

I was a teacher. I think, a good one. I worked in a large primary school in St. Helens and taught some fabulous kids who I remember fondly. During my stint, I got a couple of promotions, then left the profession when I was - what was called back then - the SENCO. I had no inclination to be a head teacher, and the kind of future roles I had been working towards (PSHE Advisor for a Local Authority, thank you very much) were cut because of austerity. Having no appetite for doggy paddling in the same role for the next thirty years, it was time for a change.

I mention it now because isn't a conclave utter madness? Whether you've seen the film or you're simply keen on all things Vatican, the whole shebang beggars belief. And I don't mean the quaintly archaic traditions. You know, the black and white smoke, or the threading of the votes, or the secrecy of it all? Not that. It's the election itself that blows my mind.

Imagining being sequestered with the 
entire staffroom brings on every 
single one of my suppressed anxieties

Imagine all your colleagues under eighty (that's probably all your colleagues, to be fair) being responsible for voting in your new boss. And when no one agrees, they vote again. And when still no one agrees, they vote again. I've sat through too many staff meetings to know the impossibility of a workforce consensus. And that was when we'd be voting on where to put two INSET days into the following year's calendar. Can you fathom voting for a new head teacher this way? 

Picture the scene. There'll be the old guard at one end of the table. The ones that have seen the curriculum repackaged and rebranded repeatedly over the years. The ones that roll their eyes at every new intervention and loudly say, 'Oh, they're calling it THAT now are they?' They sit back in their chairs, lightly doze, and leave the building as soon as the meeting's over. On the other end of the spectrum are the keen young things. The recently qualified members of staff, that haven't lost their love of the job or their will to live. Yet. They'll leave the meeting and go back to their classrooms to rearrange the role-play area for a new topic they're starting tomorrow. Or how about the teachers who are ambitious as frig? They'll privately recognise new policies as stupid, but want to get ahead, so talk the talk in front of the management. Loudly. They're the ones I most identified with. Until I didn't. The thought of these disparate groups of people, attempting to reach agreement on a new boss, stresses me out. It's simply impossible to fathom. I imagine the stress is timesed a million with the masculine mish mash of egos in the Vatican.

Stressful past-life hypotheticals aside, because of Robert Harris' book and the subsequent film, I'm quite interested in the real-life conclave starting on Wednesday. But with the first Eurovision semi final taking place a week tomorrow, I hope to God the eligible cardinals get their shit together, sooner rather than later. We don't need anything taking away from the Eurovision limelight. Let's hope they vote for a lovely progressive person, but get it done quickly. Someone that recognises that far right global politics is bad and that Eurovision, in all its glittery, diverse beauty, is a force for good. Let's send our bestest wishes to all involved. If they time it right, they could vote in the new guy a week on Friday, then celebrate the end of the conclave together, by watching Saturday's Eurovision final. It'd be one hell of a party.

This vibe will not last.

Writing News

I'm starting the editing process with the easy peasy tasks. The spelling of Maddie is now consistent throughout the draft. (A few Maddys snuck though initially.) I've made sure that all ages, times, and dates are written in figures but other numbers are written in full. I've made sure that the character of 'Dad' has a capital letter, but when someone says 'my dad' then it's a small d. The same has gone for Mum, Grandma, and Grandad. These are the baby edits. The teensy tiny things that feel good to iron out but don't take much effort. The effort will come. Just not yet.

Culture

Isn't Hacks brilliant? My friend recommended it a few weeks ago. She raved, so I looked it up, and I've spent the past week bingeing all four seasons. I LOVE it. The set up is... a Gen Z comedy writer is forced to take work with a boomer comedian, who's forced to employ her against her will. Comedy ensues! 

Hannah Einbinder and Jean Smart

What's actually lovely is seeing two women on screen, fleshing out believable lives, where no one is a goodie and no one a baddie. Both are flawed, inspirational, relatable, terrible, and marvellous. I've spent a lot of time with these women since I started watching, and I can't tear myself away. Congratulations, Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder for creating a brilliant thing.

Food and Drink

It's swings and roundabouts, isn't it. With the warmer weather, I'm craving healthier food. So I've had a run of picky teas involving salad, cheese, olives, and hummus. But on the unhealthier side, meals like that don't half go well with icy white wine. Hey ho. It's what the season demands!

Borth station

Out and About

I survived the annual family caravan holiday. The weather was breezy and warm so everything went well. The marvellous feature of this particular caravan park, is its proximity to the beach. And the station! Borth station is my favourite in the whole of the UK (Clarification: Of of the ones I've visited.) It's tranquil, scenic, and with only the sounds of sheep baaaas littering the silence. How fab to be able to get a train from there. I did it twice over the weekend - both times venturing into Aberystwyth for no real reason other than wanting to travel from the station. It's the simple pleasures!

Siblings on a beach

Enjoy the weather! Enjoy the conclave! Enjoy the whiff of Eurovison anticipation in the air! (More on that next week.) Whatever you're up to, have the best fun. It's all go, isn't it?!

Have a lovely week, folks.