Miss Nunn

Last year, my husband organised and participated in an epic bike ride from  Queen's School in Chester to Buckingham Palace. This year, the team are endeavouring to cycle the length of Offa's Dyke from Prestatyn to Chepstow (some 200 miles). No mean feat - especially considering the current heatwave we are enjoying (suffering?!)

On Sunday night, I drove out to their scheduled overnight stop to show my support.

They were staying in Adcote School, a small independent day and boarding school in the most beautiful rural setting. The school itself was a gorgeous tudor style sandstone building with grand mullioned windows and set in extensive landscaped grounds. It was most impressive. Inside, the grandeur was still evident and as I walked up the main stairway, I couldn't help but notice a large oil portrait of Mrs Doubtfire!

It turned out that the costume designer on the set of Mrs Doubtfre was Marit Allen, former pupil of Adcote School. She had very clearly drawn her inspiration for the look of the character from the Headmistress whose portrait I was now admiring. The likeness was uncanny.

It got me thinking about some of the more iconic authority figures from my school career. One in particular sprang to mind. Ageing spinster, music teacher - Miss Nunn.

Miss Nunn had a face that always reminded me of the Child-catcher from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Upon those unfortunate pointy and unattractive features she would plaster thick foundation. I would not have been surprised to discover that it was actually stage makeup that she used, such was the thickness she achieved - and it would crack - further adding to the Child-catcher illusion. I distinctly remember being fascinated by the skin/make up interface around her jawline. As a result , I am always very careful when it comes to blending my own foundation (on the rare occasions I wear it).

Despite her sinister visage, she was actually of a kindly disposition. She was passionate about her subject but had absolutely no skills when it came to classroom management. She was regularly the target of abuse from the naughty kids in class and her voice would become more and more shrill as she tried to restore order. On one particular occasion, her shrieking and the escalation of bad behaviour from one pupil culminated in a chair being thrown across the classroom at her. It did not hit her, thankfully,  but we certainly did not learn much about music theory during that session.

Miss Nunn went by the nickname Winnie. I'm not sure whether her name actually was Winifred, but apparently she was named after or adopted the name of a famous concert pianist of the time. I have Googled 'Winnie concert pianist' but it shed no light on the matter for me. The name did suit her though.

There was much speculation about romantic liaisons between Miss Nunn and an elderly divinity teacher, Doctor Davies. I doubt there was any truth in the matter but there was a very obvious match between the two distinctly 'old school' dinosaurs. Nowadays, the internet has spawned 'fandoms' in which fanatics of popular TV shows can write their own version of the shows using the established characters. More often than not, this involves 'shipping' which enables the exploration of romantic couplings between characters that wouldn't necessarily have been in the original script writers intentions. At school, we all 'shipped' Miss Nunn and Doc Davies. We never tired of it!

The most remarkable thing about Miss Nunn for me was her choice of dress. She always, without fail, whatever the weather, wore a blue woollen two piece. I have to hope that she had a wardrobe full of identical blue woollen two pieces which she alternated but to all intents and purposes it was as though she never EVER changed her clothes. This idea was leant weight by the fact that the armpits of the outfit were discoloured to the most vile shade of brown imaginable. There was nothing more horrendous than Miss Nun enthusiastically conducting the orchestra (of which I was a member with my trusty clarinet). Her arms would wave at full stretch overhead to ensure everyone could see her (she was fairly diminutive in stature)  revealing the unsanitary armpit area in all its gruesome glory.

Had I gone on to become a movie costume designer, Mrs Doubtfire may have had a very different appearance!

Although I would find it very difficult to assign an age to Miss Nunn, she surely must be long dead now.  I wonder how many of the pupils who passed through the door of her classroom have such vivid memories of her as I do. A quick search on Friends Reunited Teacher Memory proved that she certainly hasn't been forgotten:



Miss Nun

Short, big boobs, Fancied Doc Davis ? Not sure why !

MIss NUNN

2ND 3RD year RE lessons... total chaos !

Miss Nunn

Miss nunn always had a white face as if she had dipped her face in flour before coming to School

My D*ckhead Husband

It may be first thing on a Sunday morning, it may be snowing, but that doesn't stop my Darling Intrepid Cycling Keen Husband, Eager And Determined (or DICKHEAD for short) from setting off with the local Cycling Club on the second of his Reliability Races in as many weeks.

The racers met at the car park at the back of my house but to avoid the struggle to get the little ones properly dressed and ready on what was supposed to be my relaxing Mothers Day morning, I waited outside my house (camera at the ready) for him to speed past in the opening moments of the endeavour instead of seeing him off at the start. Minimum disruption to my pampering at the hands of my children.

Contrary to what my husband had informed me was the route, the pack of pedallers did not pass by my house. I just happened to turn around from my viewing spot to see the flashes of high vis lycra whizzing past the T-junction at the end of my road. Photo opportunity missed - snow settling in my hair - Oh well! - GO HUBBY, GO!!!

I do tease him for how he looks in his lycra and how geeky he can get about equipment or training or technique but I am very proud of him for pursuing his passion and for being in the best shape since I've known him.

K is for Knighton

My husband confessed to having a crush on Victoria Pendleton.  I know I can never aspire to the levels of fitness and commitment to sporting excellence of the Olympian, but I can get on my bike and show willing! For our 'K' alphabet date, that is exactly what I did.

One of the things I love about where I live in Shropshire is how easy it is to set off down a quiet lane through gorgeous countryside and end up in a little village complete with village pub. For our K date, we headed towards one such village - Knighton.

It was a beautiful evening and I loved the feel of the wind in my hair. I wasn't so keen on the feel of Kamikaze insects dive bombing into my eyes, nose and mouth. I had to stop my bike and get my husband to remove one tenacious little flying creature from my eye. It was quite romantic really - reminiscent of the 1940s black and white classic Brief Encounter where a piece of grit is removed from the eye of a suburban housewife at a train station by a fellow passenger leading to forbidden love and finally, tearful farewells.

We cycled to the White Lion at Knighton. I was slightly alarmed by the long downhill stretch before we got there, realising that this would be a long uphill stretch on the return journey.

The pub did not have Kronenburg so I settled for Carlsberg which seemed the closest thing in terms of phonetics. It was disappointing that the menu, which looked excellent, did not offer a single vegetarian main meal option. We were about to change our plan to include a detour for chips with Ketchup on the way home when the barmaid came over to tell us that the chef had offered to cook us any vegetarian meal we wanted (within reason). We ordered vegetable curry and I was delighted when it was served to us with a neatly moulded dome of pilau rice wrapped in a dark cabbage leaf. The curry itself was a different beast entirely from the sort I enjoy at my favourite Indian Restaurant. It was a lightly spiced medley of vegetables cooked just enough to retain their crunch. And the portion was generous enough to satisfy the appetite I had built up with the 6 mile bike ride so far.

We talked about Knickers!

My husband likes me to wear thongs. So much so that he once raided my underwear drawer and replaced all my Bridget Jones-esque 'dress for comfort' big knickers with sexy little offerings that occupied very little space by comparison. Recently I have taken to wearing panties in the 'shorts' style. When I asked him if my choice of underwear was a disappointment, he answered in his usual considered manner. He surmised that it was a diagonal line across the buttocks that he objected to in ladies undergarment styling. A fully exposed buttock as in a thong or a horizontal line framing the buttock as in shorts were both equally preferable. Had the topic of Knickers not fitted in so well with a K date, we would never had had this conversation!

The ascent I had feared at the start of our journey home was easily accomplished with legs oiled by lager! I had only drank one and a half pints but I did feel myself being a little less cautious and enjoying my cycling with childlike abandon. A dead cat lying on the side of the road, almost certainly hit by a car, was a sobering sight. That was one Kitty that would not be answering the call of it's owners to return home.

As we cycled past the church in the village where my little girl will be starting primary school this September, the bells rang out. The perfect timing of this made it feel as though they were heralding our arrival in the village. A little further on, a huge flock of Canadian Geese took off from a field and flew right over our heads in two slightly messy V formations with a loud cacophony of honking. I actually stopped my bike to fully enjoy the spectacle.

The sun was sinking very low by this time. It had been a long time since I'd cycled anywhere in the dark and I really loved it. We stopped on a humpback bridge going over a canal to finish our date with a Kiss in the eerie stillness of twilight.

Come September, crossing the canal on the humpback bridge will form part of my school run. I hope that it will always remind me of a special evening and bring a little smile to my face.

Middle Aged Men in Lycra

I love the BBC comedy The Office for all sorts of reasons, including the fact that it was set in Slough and offers nostalgic glimpses of the town I grew up in during the opening titles. My favourite character is Gareth Keenan (played by Mackenzie Crook) and my absolute favourite moment is from the deleted scenes of the series 2 DVD and basically involves Gareth posing in lycra cycle shorts.

I have had many occasions recently to be reminded of this hilariously funny spectacle.

My husband is organising and participating in a 6 day, 200 mile charity bicycle ride from The Queen's School in Chester to Buckingham Palace. 

The planning and arranging part has been something of a mission but on top of that, there has been the task of making sure he had a bike that would withstand the rigours of such a journey and likewise, a body that had the best chance to do the same.

I am getting used to the sight of an upturned bicycle in my conservatory, spare parts arriving by post and today there appears to be a small selection of inner tubes dumped on a chair.

I am also getting used to my husband waking early in the morning for a training session before work. I probably wouldn't even notice that he had gone were it not for the fact that he has to open our garage door to get his bike. The electric opening mechanism is extremely noisy and clunky. Unluckily for our  poor Charis, her bedroom is directly above the garage. It is like a small earthquake in her room. The bed actually shakes.

What I will NEVER get used to is the sight of my middle aged husband in lycra cycle shorts!! He has gone the whole hog and kitted himself out in a fluorescent cycling jacket, lycra trousers when there is the need for warmth, and a lycra vest. He thinks he looks fit and sporty. My eyes see a completely different picture! It never gets old. The belly straining against the sleek fabric tells a story of beer consumption rather than sporting prowess.

My 6'5" husband has a very long body. This often means that there is a small discrepancy between where his tops end and his trousers begin. Add to this the bending posture of a cyclist and a small discrepancy is in danger of becoming a butt crack revealing catastrophe. Bearing in mind that the cyclists accompanying my husband on this trip are refined young ladies from an all girls public school and you can see that this is a problem! His innovative solution was to purchase  a 'Slimmer Belt'. This is a thick band of neoprene that is wrapped around the middle and secured with velcro. He says that the back support it offers will be useful. He didn't mention the 'instant slimming effect' or the 'flattens and tones abs' promise on the box!

Inner tubes and the Slimmer Belt

I do tease my poor husband but I am incredibly proud of him for even considering undertaking such a mammoth task as cycling all the way to London. I will continue to support his endeavour and be ready with the Deep Heat on his return to ease his aching muscles and the offer of a gentle massage to relieve his aching saddle sore unmentionables.

I don't know if he will be hanging up his lycra once this is over or if it will continue to be made use of. Maybe the Slimmer Belt will do its job and he will cut a fine athletic figure. Whatever happens, I do know that the image I have of him in my head now will never lose the power to make me smile!

Cycling with the Children

Cycling with the Children was never meant to be our C date. I had originally planned to take my husband to the Comedy in the Country gig in aid of Help for Heroes. It would have been a really good night, I'm sure, but one of my babysitters had a rehearsal for a play she is in and the other was a little under the weather and up to her ears in A Level revision... so it just didn't happen.

However, the cycling thing turned out to be fantastic and as the children are a huge part of our life, it didn't seem too inappropriate to include them in a date (although I don't intent to do it too often!)

The date was part of weekend away. We drove to Brighton early Sunday morning to visit my husband's parents who made a lovely lunch for us which included a home made fresh raspberry trifle (I figured that with the cycling I'd be expending plenty of calories so having seconds was perfectly acceptable).

We were booked into a Premiere Inn for the night and headed off in the late afternoon to settle ourselves in. After so much trifle, I didn't really want to go out for a meal so we bought Crusty bread and Cheese from a local Co-op, putting us very much into 'C' date mode.

The children didn't settle down to sleep very easily with all the excitement of being in a strange place so it wasn't exactly a romantic evening, but we watched some bad TV and all snuggled in bed together which was lovely.

The following morning after a breakfast of Croissants, we set off for our Cycling adventure.

We parked in the Seven Sisters Country Park and I got a map of the cycle routes from the Cuckmere Cycle shop while my husband got the bikes ready. 

We could have taken an easy route down to the beach to see the Seven Sisters or a nice circular way marked route suitable for families through Friston Forest but my ambitious husband had other plans. We were going to cycle to nearby Jevington via cycle tracks ranging in difficulty from easy to 'medium' to rendezvous with his parents at a pre-arranged time for lunch in a Country pub. (I later found out that the Hungry Monk in Jevington was the birthplace of Banoffee Pie but given the trifle incident the day previously, it was probably just as well that this wasn't the country pub we had a table booked for!)

Bearing in mind this was the first time we had done any real cycling with the baby boy, the three year old had yet to try her Tag Along Trailer Bike with its newly fitted safety back rest and I probably haven't even sat on my bike for two years - it was a case of anything could happen.

The boy couldn't wait to get started...

I was 'doing One good thing' with my One water...

...and we were off!

Credit where credit is due - my husband's map reading skills did keep us on track (after a couple of false starts trying to navigate out of the car park!) and we reached Jevington almost exactly on time. Unfortunately, the contour lines that looked fairly harmless on the map were punishing on under used thigh muscles. We had to get off our bikes and push up a couple of the steeper hills but we made it. 

What I failed to appreciate was that all the ascending was setting us up for a serious descent into Jevington village. This was a 'medium' difficulty route. One day I will have to try one of the extreme difficulty routes because for me this was a heart pounding mountain biking sort of experience! Quite how my husband managed to make it down the steep, bumpy, narrow track with the baby seat and the trailer bike I will never know, but he did. And so did I!

The pub lunch was lovely (and well earned!!) and the kids were delighted to see their grandma and grandpa.

Over lunch, we planned our return journey - a less direct but more sedate route! The baby boy was very relaxed about it all.

Despite a few aching muscles and some moments of white knuckle terror it really was a magical time and something I hope to do a lot more of.

Back where we began, a Cup of Coffee marked the end of our unforgettable C date.

Reasons to be Cheerful

ONE - KNITTING

I am still very much an absolute beginner when it comes to knitting but with my mum's encouragement I am thoroughly enjoying experimenting with some simple patterns for soft toys. I practised technique with a tiny fish then graduated onto a slightly larger mouse which worked out quite well. I am now trying to improve my knitting stamina with a much larger stripy snake. I have never changed wool colour on a knitting project before. It is really helping me to understand how it all works. For the first row after the colour change, it is really easy to see what happens to the stitches as you knit. For the first time EVER  I have managed to correct my mistakes when I make them rather than having to start again or rely on mum to sort my mess out.

In keeping with Michelle's 'Recommend a Blogger' theme I've found plenty of knitting inspiration on Little Cotton Rabbits.

TWO - EXERCISING

I have been doing really well with exercise recently but signing up for the Race for Life has given me an even greater incentive. I have joined a new class at the gym called 'Bodytone' but might as well be called 'One Hour of Torture'. I'm hoping that next week it will feel a little easier - but all that sweating has got to be doing me some good, right?

THREE - CYCLING

My three year old daughter loves going out for bike rides with daddy, usually to the canal to feed the ducks. The baby boy is just about big enough to use the bike seat now so we have bought him his own little helmet and have invested in a Tag Along Trailer Bike for his big sister. We weren't at all sure if she would be ready to make such a big step but we had a little trial in the garden and she loved it. We are heading off to the South Coast this half term to visit the grandparents and have our very first Family Cycle Ride through Friston Forest and down to the beach. I am hoping for good weather but intend to pack the waterproofs!