'Break a leg'

An eventful few days. In brief, the play I have been directing opened the one-act play festival - and failed to win. I do not care about this: the adjudicator was, in my opinion, fair and his ideas were good. He praised my direction, which was most encouraging, seeing as it's the first play I've directed (apart from a group of teachers in the SATs scenes from 'Romeo and Juliet' a few years ago in Wembley, something that had the happy outcome of introducing Andrew (Romeo) to Charmaine (Juliet) and bringing about a romance that has, for all I know, ended in marriage.) Unfortunately, one of my cast of two is, in her own words 'highly competitive' and I doubt whether she will ever speak to me again. It was good, but the other plays were better. We did, however, receive high praise for the 'Ecuadorian fertility figure' - our best prop - and I hope to embarrass yo'all with a photo of it very soon.

The morning of the play I slipped on the highly polished lino of Kirkwall airport and have sprained my ankle. I was in shock, methinks, which led me to attempt to get to work notwithstanding (literally - I had to be pushed down to the plane in a wheelchair) I had to get off at Sanday to let off another teacher, so I told the airstrip chap - imagine elderly Orcadian Viking-type - that I needed his arm because I had fallen over. He glared at my shoes (as chosen by Mrs Martin, stylish yet sensible) and said "This wouldna have happened if ye'd been wearing rrrubber boots!"

I got to Stronsay, whereupon Mae, the Head, packed me off to the doctor, who decided he'd like to put acupuncture needles in my foot. "Can you feel that?" I could feel nothing, as between the sub-zero of the plane and equal chill of his surgery, my feet were numb with cold. I then went home on the ferry, took a cab to get my car from the airport and went to bed for the rest of the day. Thus not going to work took 5 hours and cost me 14 quid.

Today I hirpled to Hoy (yes, they actually say 'hirple' here - I thought it only existed in the novels of Sir Walter Scott) to endure several hours of Andrew Lloyd Webber. The kids were great - I explained that I had hurt my ankle and was therefore in pain and in a foul temper and they ran round fetching me chairs for my foot and fresh ice-packs and being good, bless 'em.

I have taken no photos since last week, but the photo above is for Doctor Mom. (It's just the alternative route to Stronsay, Viva.)

Stranded in Sanday, Afloat in Flotta

Bloggable - my new word. I have had a lovely fortnight, but unless this turns into the online equivalent of a newspaper's 'Nature Notes', not a great deal that is bloggable, as a lot of the pleasure has been in seeing amazing skies and being aware of rapidly lengthening days, so that a trip to Hoy was in the dark on a Tuesday and in the dawn by the Friday.

There is no half-term holiday for teachers this term: the kids had two days off while staff had to attend in-service training, but as I am only contracted to teach 0.8 of a timetable, I had to go to only the first day and thus was able to spend three blissful days on Flotta.

Last week brought the only fly in the proverbial ointment, when the short flight home turned into five hours of frozen misery, as Kirkwall airport was fog-bound and we flew, first to Sanday, where we hung around for over an hour while my body temperature plummetted, and next to Westray, where we waited for a ferry for even longer and I was approaching hyperthermia by the time the ferry arrived. It is, however, a large ferry, and served hot food. I'm not fond of bacon butties, but mine tasted like manna from heaven.

On Thursday I did my first day of my new job teaching Drama here there and everywhere. I was sent to Dounby and earned a day's pay for two hours work. I stayed in the afternoon to see the little ones enact an Orkney wedding as part of their work on 'festivals.' It was very sweet: the bride and groom, only three feet tall, took their vows very seriously in the 'kirk' and then there was a reception in the hall, with traditional food and Scottish dancing and even a real wedding cake. The 'brither o' the bride' made a speech, in which he declared he'd be 'glad tae see the back of her cos she used to break ma peedie tractors. No, but seriously, she's no sae bad and bakes the best floory bannocks in Orkney.'

Fridays I now teach two gifted primary school children for an hour before my own class. It was a stunningly beautiful, very still and frosty day, so I took them outside with notebooks and they just listened and wrote down everything they experienced, then went back in and wrote poems. Mary, in particular, is very creative with language. I pointed out that the sheep were silent but that in a few weeks the fields would be full of baaing and bleating, once the lambs wwre born, as all the ewes were pregnant. 'It's field hospital,' said Mary thoughtfully. A flock of starlings descended on the roof of the school and started showing off: 'The starlings are seeking stardom, ' she wrote.

It has taken me several days to get this to publish, as the broadband connexion keeps failing, so refs. to 'a fortnight' have stretched into two and a half weeks. Photographic offerings are of dawn over Scapa Flow, the first from the road in a gale and the second from the ferry to Flotta on a beautiful morning, while the other two feature the penguins of Flotta and the spectacular aerobatics of the Coast Guard helicopter. (He bought me a box of Milk Tray.)

The North wind doth blow and we shall have...

a day off school. Thank you, Orkney Islands Council.

The O.I.C.

is turning me

into a lounge lizard

as on Friday

they decided

there'd be a blizzard.

There wasn't, I'm pleased to say

but I had a duvet day

and Saturday brought snow

to make Kirkwall almost pretty,

which sadly has all melted

as down the rain has pelted

so I must return to work, which is a pity.

(Blame Mrs Martin for this nonsense. She requested poems.)

Yes, it's been a week of serious laziness. I worked Monday, the usual half-day Tuesday and that afternoon flew to Inverness. I cannot comment on the beauties or otherwise of Inverness as it was dark when I arrived and was raining so hard throughout my stay that I formed no opinion of it. It does have a lovely river running through it, though. I stayed in a B&B run by a very camp elderly Hebridean (quite a bizarre combination) and attended a course at a posh hotel the next day. The course turned out to be completely inappropriate for me, as they informed me when I arrived (a bit late for that) but I dutifully took notes and enjoyed a fantastic lunch (which more than made up for the curling sandwiches offered by OIC on my two previous lots of in-service training.) I just had time to hit the shops, stock up on Marks and Sparks knickers and a fresh supply of thick tights and bought a £320 suit in Debenhams sale for 80 quid. Result!

On Thursday, I was meant to be in Hoy, but my new boss, the performing arts co-ordinator - had forgotten to make the necessary arrangements. I offered to go anyway, but he said that the weather was too risky and I might not get back (a night on Hoy - horrors!) so we went together to a primary school to discuss the drama I'll do there, as I will be covering his work every Thursday. I got paid a day's wage for this brief jaunt. Afterwards, I drove him to Stromness to pick up his car from the mechanic: now, that was hairy. There was a hailstorm on the way, with jagged hailstones like shards of glass, and a wind so strong I was quite concerned the car might be blown off the road and I'd be viewing Harray Loch from under the surface.

The promised worse weather never arrived, but Saturday morning it snowed a bit, then it snowed a lot. Very pretty. Emma and her mates went tobogganing. They didn't want to fork out for sledges, so she nicked some aerobic steps from the gym at Kirkwall Grammar School. She later went out to watch England lose the rugby (by that I mean they lost, not that she hoped they would, quite the reverse) which was great as (a) she shouts at the telly and (b) it meant I could watch 3 hours of David Attenborough's The Blue Planet uninterrupted. One of the things I failed to do failed to do when young enough, along with dyeing my hair green, was drop acid (other than in the more conventional sense of ruining my science overall) but an hour of the strange luminous creatures in the deep ocean made me feel as if I'd the experience without any unpleasant side-effects.

Photos are of our front garden, the Earl's Palace in Kirkwall, St Magnus Cathedral and A Cat ( for cat-lovers out there - you know who you are.)