Fooh. Am just back from my school visit. Quite a muddle but great fun. I didn't quite expect 60 children, and I didn't see it coming that I'd go with a swollen knee and wearing Alexis' dungarees - I did't have any better trousers this morning, due to work-stint laundry delay all in the wash. So there I was, limping around in oversized dungarees, answering questions and handing out colour pencils on demand, and generally being a chaos engine causing extreme paper scattering. I'm not sure I did that well on the question-time bit, but the art part was fun. We made paper fish by collaging photocopied drawings. I didn't do a great demonstration to the first big group so it got a bit fiddly and in places, but later on we got the hang of it a bit better and some brilliant fish emerged.
I wish I hadn't said that I want to switch to writing novels because you can do that in bed. It's my bent tailbone talking... I swear the only reason that I am getting so much writing done is that I set the bed up so I can write there. Looks bad, but there's been more than one great writer writing from bed... in fact I never really notice it any more, except when I am in company and everyone else sits down.
My favourite part was when I asked the whole class in the end where my fancy white and blue pencil went which I'd lent out. A girl put her hand up and said "They're in your pocket" and indeed, they were. She'd found them on the floor and put them back into my pencil case when I wasn't looking. I'd put the case back in my pocket and went around with the missing pencils for ages wondering where they'd turn up.
So - all good. Next time I'll wear my own trousers, though, I felt a bit like a mad comedy auntie.