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The Vicar is getting together a collection of prayers for our church primary school. What we are looking for is lunchtime prayers, beginning of the day prayers and going home time prayers. With or without tunes.

We have a couple of prayers from our old school and collected from random places, but I would love to have contributions from others. Do you have a prayer you could share, that the teachers could use with our children?

The ones I have so far:

Morning
Good morning, Lord.
This is your day.
We are your children.
Show us your way.

Lunch
Thank you for the world so sweet.
Thank you for the food we eat.
Thank you for the birds that sing.
Thank you God for everything.

1,2,3,4,5.
Thank you God that I’m alive.
6,7,8,9,10.
Thank you for our food.
Amen.

Going Home
Nothing so far…

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I'm definitely not this glamorous at the school gate

I'm definitely not this glamorous at the school gate

I’d like to tell you about the first time I talked to my friend Diamond. We’d just moved into the Vicarage and the kids had started at the new school. I was on a new school gate.

The old one was where I met my friends, chatted and hung about till I was thrown out by teachers wanting to get on with the lessons. Here I just had to hang onto the kids for comfort.

The new school gate was the one where I didn’t know anyone, but some of them already knew me. Diamond came up to me on one of those first days and said:

You’re the Vicar’s Wife, aren’t you?

We went to see some strippers last night. But I was so drunk I fell asleep and missed it.

I wasn’t sure what she was expecting me to say, but I commented

Sounds like a bit of an expensive way to take a nap.

And then she wandered back to her ‘gang’.

She must have liked my response, cos now she’s my friend. But, boy, was that a scary way to begin.

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My kids have a strange but great selection of playground rhymes so I thought I’d share a few with you. They’ve learnt some new ones since we moved, but this is a Wolverhampton one.

So here are the Queen and the Joker reciting ‘Coca cola’ (lyrics below):

Coca cola, coca cola.
Alley alley pussy cat, alley alley pussy cat.
Coca cola, coca cola.
Alley alley pussy cat, alley alley pussy cat.

The boys got the muscles, the teacher can’t count
The girls got the sexy legs, you better watch out.
The boys go X X, the girls go ‘Whooo’

PS Please excuse me going ‘Go’ at the beginning – it’s the only way I could make sure they hadn’t launched their rhyme before I started recording.

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When I picked the Queen and the Joker up from school yesterday, the Queen was holding a folded blue paper towel in front of her face.

Inadequate anti-viral protection

Inadequate anti-viral protection

When I asked her what it was for she told me that it was so that she didn’t catch “the virus”. “But it can kill you Mummy,” she protested as I told her to put the paper towel away.

Her teacher had told the class about swine flu, and that they should make sure they wash their hands after they sneeze or cough.

The Queen also knew that the virus was spreading all over the world. It took most of the walk home for her to be convinced that her rather original method of protection was not going to be effective.

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According to Lord Laming, directors of council Children’s Services departments need to be retrained to understand the pressures of frontline social work. This will mean that they can support their staff properly.

According to the Vicar’s Wife, they also need to be retrained in postal logistics and basic form reading skills. And support their staff to do the same.

First impressions count

First impressions count

I applied for school places for the Queen and the Joker before we moved to the vicarage. We changed local authority from Wolverhampton to Sandwell. So I carefully completed Sandwell’s schools application forms, accompanied by a covering letter, for both children and hand delivered them to the reception desk of the Sandwell Children’s Services department. On a Friday morning.

When I called a week later to find out how they were getting on with my applications, I was told that the department had not received them until the Tuesday. My paperwork had taken three working days to move a few floors up in the building. Not a good first impression.

A few days later I called the school to find out if they’d heard anything. But apparently, they are told about children’s allocations to a school after the family. But the very helpful lady in the school office said she would call Children’s Services and then get back to me.

When she got back to me she told me that the children did have places (hooray!), but that Children’s Services had sent my letter about it to the Vicarage. Where I would not be living for another three weeks. As I had especially informed them in my covering letter and on the forms I had sent.

Children’s Services re-sent the letter to my Wolverhampton home. And I discovered that they had given places to Queen Vicar in Year One, and Vicar Joker in Year Three. So the Queen, who is seven, would be sitting in a class with a bunch of children two years younger than her and the Joker, who is six, would be stretched by being promoted to the Juniors. And being called by his surname instead of his first name.

Now I know that my children have rather unusual names and that the Joker’s first and sur- names could be interchanged to make a ‘normal’ name. But so can many people with Scottish heritage. Like the Vicar for instance, and the Engineer. But his sister and mother (I signed my name in the covering letter and on the form) have the same surname. AND I COMPLETED THE FORM CORRECTLY! With the right names in the right boxes and everything! And I can’t believe that in multicultural Sandwell, everybody is called ‘Jack Smith’ or ‘Jane Brown’.

So all in all, Sandwell Council have a bit of work to do to begin winning me over now. Three mistakes in their first piece of communication with me is not a good record sheet. I’m not surprised that this is the council that landed itself with The Public.

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Our School is the Best

snowflakeOur school is the best. It’s snowing heavily here at the moment. But our school is open.

The wussy schools down the road are shut, but somehow our teachers made it in. Whether they get home again is another matter. The snow’s at three inches and deepening.

I’m glad I’ve got wellies.

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In the last three weeks of term the Curate and I attended three school Christmas productions. The first one we attended was performed by the morning nursery.

The Engineer was dressed as an elf and had to work in Santa’s workshop, rather gruesomely using a saw on the teddy bear he was carrying. The nursery children enthusiastically sang along to Bob the Builder’s ‘Can we fix it? Yes we can!’ as the Engineer and his friends ratherly sullenly appeared on the stage area. The Engineer looked like he felt it very much beneath his dignity to perform for us.

The Engineer looked about as grumpy as this elf

This elf looks cheerier than the Engineer did

As well as Santa and the elves, we had a snowman dance, a Christmas tree dance and and a full nativity scene, complete with a laughing angel and Mary broadly smiling from ear to ear. The children sang ‘Happy Happy Happy Birthday to the Baby Jesus’ and the nursery teacher reminded us that the Baby Jesus is the most important thing about Christmas. There were children of many different colours, nationalities and religions in the show and everyone there was very pleased with the performance.

My friend Sunshine, who lives in a beautiful university town, has a daughter who is also in a nativity play this Christmas. Her school, however, thought it should send an apology and explanation, I guess because they were concerned that parents would object. They reminded the parents that the nativity play happens only rarely, and asked for the parents to indulge them this year.

What a blessing to have kids in a church school in a happy city, where many cultures are able to celebrate Christmas without anybody feeling the need to apologise.

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Pigeons

The Queen is in the juniors now. This is a big thing because

  1. The juniors is on a different site
  2. The Engineer is in nursery which starts earlier than the infants, and at the infant site
  3. So we have to leave twenty minutes before we used to last year
  4. And we don’t cross with Mr Goldtooth any more.

This makes our mornings a little more stressed and a little less jolly. But the upside is the pigeons:

Pigeons

Our pigeons are fatter than this

I confess: I have encouraged my children to do something terrible on a regular basis.

Whenever they see the pigeons, they make big roaring noises and run at them, sending the pigeons up into the sky, or across the pavements, depending on how lazy the fat birds are feeling.

We see the pigeons nearly every morning, as local Asians, believing the birds to be reincarnated relatives, feed them daily on torn chappattis, bread, birdseed, rice and beans. Sadly, they don’t do this in their own gardens, but in the shopping precinct, which is then covered in bird poo, mouldy bird food, and later on, with rats picking up the leftovers. The instructions in English and Punjabi indicating that feeding the birds is against the law have no effect.

I’m not sure whether my kids roaring has any effect either, but it makes us all feel better.

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RML

As a concerned Christian parent, I am always pleased to hear when my child is being taught truth from the bible.

So I was extremely impressed when I was told by his Year 1 teacher at our church school that the Joker is studying RML. This course is well known to Anglican Evangelicals for providing excellent in-depth bible study at St Helen’s Church in the City of London.

Eventually my brain clicked, since we were talking about the Joker’s reading and writing, and I twigged that she was actually referring to his literacy programme (which is very good, by the way, synthetic phonics and all that). Hopefully once he’s completed his first RML, he’ll be ready for the other one.

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We’ve been hit by the public sector strike here in deepest Wolverhampton. Our bins weren’t collected yesterday and, more disruptively, school is closed because the kitchen staff and caretaker are members of Unison.

Do you know why the strike was on Wednesday and Thursday? Apparently they couldn’t hold it on Thursday and Friday because if school staff don’t work on the last day of term they’re not paid for the holidays. If they’d been striking at the end of the week term could have finished properly on Wednesday.

As it is, we are off today and yesterday but back tomorrow. And because of all that goes on at the end of term (sports days, plays, trips out) the end-of-term service where all the Year Six leavers are farewelled has had to be postponed to Friday afternoon. Sadly for the Year Sixes, and the two teachers who are retiring, many children won’t return to school for the last day of term. A 2pm finish to the day means that parents are reluctant to disrupt holiday mode simply for a day of packing up. So the service will be much less of a send-off than it normally is.

I wonder if the Unison and Unite bosses took into consideration this important stage of children’s school careers when they made their plans? The move from primary to secondary school is a significant one. I can’t believe that they wanted to cause this upset to children by the timing of their strike. But they did think about the paypackets of their workers. Money, not memories, has driven them.

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