As I sit here, lazily formatting PowerPoint files and updating Memrise lists, I suppose it is worth reflecting upon my luck. Upon the unlikelihood that I will have another opportunity to plan for the upcoming school year in such a tranquil setting.
I am sat, cross-legged (and albeit a little chilly) on the decking of a glorified mobile home in southern France, laptop pointed defiantly at the WiFi source over the other side of the lake. Yes. There is a lake. We are on a lake. I am a .. lake person. It is surrounded by greenery and trees and bushes and shrubs and foliagey things. It is so eerily quiet that I can hear all thirty-two buzzing be-winged creatures that fly about, every lizard that sneaks across the woodwork, and every fish that cheekily jumps out of the water, winking provocatively at my Dad and his fishing rods (it sounds like a gun-shot, by the way). There is a tiny boat, which Keira and I have commandeered around said lake with increasing confidence and capability, a punch-bag swinging from a tree, every size of bat, ball, racket and shuttlecock, and a hot-tub bubbling quietly in the corner, decommissioned since it gave us electric shocks and we ran away, towels flapping in the wind.
No. I am very lucky to have been able to consider my AfL, my PPP, my SEN, EAL, IEPs and any other three-lettered acronym you can think of in this secluded, leafy place.
Now, if only I'd been a bit less miserable about it, and actually got on and done more of said work, instead of being headachey about the next year. I'll learn..
