Shindig

Chatsworth House is arguably England's finest stately home. It was there last evening amidst much pomp and ceremony that the Laughing Horse blogging awards were presented to the various winners. Above you can see fireworks bursting in the Derbyshire night and the grand Regency house itself distinctively  illuminated in blue. Use of Chatsworth had been made possible only because the writer of these words has become a personal friend of the Duke of Devonshire over the years - since meeting in "The Castle" pub in Bakewell back in 2001.

The house boasts over 175 rooms and a third of these are luxurious bedrooms so there was plenty of accommodation for Laughing Horse winners though Mr R. Brague had to be satisfied with an austere room in the servants' quarters. It used to be the private suite of a former butler and notable womaniser called Percy.

The main event took place in the Grand Ballroom which in its heyday looked like this - very suave and sophisticated:-

But on the Awards Night, it looked more like this as bloggers from around the world attacked the free bar and drank as if the apocalypse was to happen the next morning:-

Katherine from NZ, Carol from Cairns and Helen from Brisbane at the ballroom bash

After The Arctic Monkeys (from Sheffield) had performed on the ballroom stage, the room was skilfully hushed by your faithful compere - "SHUT THE F*** UP!"  "Pray be quiet!" I bellowed. A bucket of iced water was thrown over Ms Kate De Chevalle, the bohemian Kiwi artist  as she had continued shouting at the top of her voice - "One Edouard Manet! There's only one Edouard Manet!" like a rabid football supporter.

The awards were presented by The Duke of Devonshire who welcomed the international blogging community to his home and said he'd spotted some gorgeous "fillies" in the assembled ranks who he would happily invite to join him on an invigorating morning ride. "Dirty sod!" whispered Adrian from "Adrian's Images".

The first award was presented to itinerant blogger, Mr GB from both Napier, New Zealand and Eagleton, Isle of Lewis, Scotland. Dressed in an evening suit and with his beard neatly trimmed, it was unfortunate that Mr GB hadn't realised that his flyhole was unzipped and this fact caused much suppressed mirth as he read out his lengthy acceptance speech. It was even more unfortunate that the tail of his dress shirt was peering through the hole like a miniature white sail.

Penguin-like waiters flitted about the seated guests, filling their crystal champagne glasses while the awards ceremony proceeded.

Overall Welsh winner, Earl John Gray of "Going Gently" of course delivered his acceptance speech entirely in Welsh, putting his success down to the inspirational power of scotch eggs and the love and support of both his animals and his long-suffering partner and live-in therapist Dr Chris of the University of Bangor's Bestiality Studies Department. Throughout it all, Jenny the "Demob Happy Teacher" smirked at the Earl's woeful pronunciation.

Top Catalonian blogger Brian Cutts appeared on the stage in traditional Catalan dress, raving that his "people" needed the support of the rest of the world if they were to achieve independence for Catalonia and remove the repressive yoke of Spanish imperialism:-

Top Feline Care Blogger, Jan Blawat slid onto the stage like a cat, wearing a tight-fitting cat suit made entirely from feral cat fur. "Hi y'all!" she grinned coquettishly as The Duke of Devonshire's blood pressure rose like an old steam locomotive preparing to leave King's Cross.

And then The King himself was called - The Blogger of the Year who had arrived from Johannesburg that very morning. Dressed in a khaki safari suit and wearing a brand new bush hat made by "Tilley" of Canada, he looked every part the adventurer with medals dangling from his breast and an electronic cigarette in his muscular right hand. 

"Oooo! He's gorgeous!" swooned Carol from Cairns.

Cap'n T. Gowans pulled out his long speech. It had been written on Izal toilet paper and rolled back into a familiar cylindrical form. It was a speech that should have been witnessed by "The Guinness Book of Records" people such was its length. It covered happy childhood  days in and around Cannock Chase, the important influence of his beloved father, the trials and triumphs of soldiering, snake bites, whisky, African maidens, the love of his two sons, vehicle maintenance, man management, cooking in a medieval helmet, the importance of accurate grammar and spelling, Cliff Richard, his brothers, map reading, airport security....zzzzzzzz!

"God, he goes on a bit doesn't he?" moaned Adrian.

And Mr R. Brague agreed as they slugged back their French champagne.

Finally, Cap'n Gowans was suitably applauded and the evening consequently descended into an unwholesome vision of debauchery and excess that was reminiscent of Gomorrah. After being plied with strong drink, Jan Blawat - the Catwoman - was ushered away to The Duke of Devonshire's private quarters while Katherine de Chevalle's tongue explored Brian Cutts's Catalonian tonsils in the exotic palm house and Earl John Gray chased one of the liveried footmen up to the hay loft in the stable block. And throughout it all, the author of this post sat in a wing-backed armchair like Methuselah with legs crossed simply observing the goings-on. What a night!

Awards

The international blogging community's most prestigious awards are coordinated via this very blog. They are called "The Laughing Horse" Awards and just like the Golden Globes or the Hollywood Oscars, bloggers from around the world jostle to be recognised by "The Laughing Horse" judges. The awards are always presented at the very end of a calendar year. Blogging is a relatively new art form that has opened doors for numerous previously anonymous individuals who would otherwise be festering in the obscurity of their tiny humdrum lives. Blogging connects. Blogging inspires. Blogging gives a voice to the voiceless. And ":Laughing Horse" recognises achievement in the field of blogging.

This year the "Laughing Horse" winners' widget was designed by Yorkshire-based graphic designer Humphrey Blenkinsop - based in Grimesthorpe. Awards winners are specially entitled to copy the treasured widget and to paste it permanently into their sidebars or to simply use it to gloat in regular blogposts. Please note that use of the widget by envious non-award winners is a criminal offence. Here's the Blenkinsop design for 2013 in three different sizes. Winners can take their pick according to the design specifications of their own blogs:-

And so to this year's awards:-

TOP ITINERANT BLOGGER:- GB of "A Hebridean in New Zealand". This lucky fellow blogs from two hemispheres and also blogs with good manners and joyful appreciation of the world we share. He is a good role model for younger bloggers and has a nice beard called Keith.

TOP FELINE CARE BLOGGER:- Jan Blawat of "Cosumne Gal". This hard-nosed northern Californian lady blogger has a soft side to her as this year her heart has clearly melted  and all because of a feral kitten called Wesley. She has told his story in interesting dribs and drabs, allowing Wesley into her house and into her life.

TOP PHOTOGRAPHIC BLOGGER  Adrian of "Adrian's Images". This gipsy-like fellow cruises the British Isles in his love wagon, using his intimate knowledge of camera technology to bring superb and surprising images to his many followers. There is no truth in the rumour that he was also up for a special "Grumpy Old Blogger" award.

TOP QUEENSLAND BLOGGER Unusually, the judges simply couldn't split the two top nominated bloggers from Queensland, Australia and it was decided that the award would be shared between Helen of "Helsie's Happenings" and Carol of "The Week That Was in Aus". Both bloggers have displayed good humour, honesty and a lively interest in the very process of blogging for which they are to be equally commended.

TOP WELSH BLOGGER Well, could it really be anybody else but Earl John Gray from the mountain hamlet of Trelawnyd? (Sorry Jenny - not enough posts this  year!). Earl Gray wears his heart on his sleeve and displays enormous warmth and humanity in his accounts of animal care, scotch egg addiction and village life.

TOP CATALONIAN BLOGGER:- Brian Cutts of "Tannu Tuva". Kidnapped by a lusty Catalonian maiden, Brian has reluctantly had to live in exile from his beloved Yorkshire homeland for many years. He loves music, history and life itself and the judges were pleased to see that his blogging efforts are gradually attracting more interest than they used to do.

TOP ART BLOGGER & TOP BAY OF PLENTY (NZ) BLOGGER - Katherine De Chevalle of "The Last Visible Dog". For a significant chunk of the year, Katherine was unfortunately incarcerated in the women's prison at Auckland but since her release has come back strong. She is at her best when blogging about the processes of creating art.

TOP AMERICAN BLOGGER The judging panel were split on this but after much deliberation plumped for the famous Georgian blogger Robert H. Brague of "Rhymes With Plague". This senior blogger has had several health problems in the past year but he battled through them all to bring a wide range of thoughtful blogposts to his loyal readership. Kindness, fairness, media, music and  a healthy sense of humour colour his contributions to the world of blogging.

And finally, the overall Laughing Horse "BLOGGER OF THE YEAR" award goes to..... none other than Tom Gowans of "Hippo on the Lawn". Congratulations Tom! His Angola-based blog swims effortlessly between memories of childhood, military life and his current happy domestic life on the outskirts of Luanda with Marcia and his boys and the great bloody pond he dug in his back yard. This former army captain writes well and responds to his his fellow bloggers' posts with humanity, good humour and occasional mischief. His blog sometimes provides an outlet for creative use of language - exploring memories and ideas while breaking down some of the walls of convention. There's a novel in that chap so there is.

Overstones

Sunday afternoon - ten minutes out of Sheffield by car. Though you can't see it in this particular photograph, Overstones Farm sits beneath a millstone escarpment known as Stanage Edge. It is one of Britain's foremost training grounds for rock climbers. In this picture, my aim was partly to show the texture and winter colours of the rough moorland in the foreground. That is known as Callow Bank. 

It was a great afternoon for walking. I was out for almost four hours and saw many other wondrous sights in the sharp winter light. And though the day was short, I noticed that the bright afternoon stretched a little further than it would have done just a week ago. The northern hemisphere is beginning its long climb back to mid-summertime and in months to come Overstones Farm will once again look down upon a lush green landscape.

Rex

Rex

Today, I drove over to Hull with Ian and Frances to watch Hull City play Fulham in a Premier League fixture. Before the game Ian snapped a well-known Hull City dog called Rex. He works in a scrapyard as a guard dog  but likes to come to home games with his master. See him there in his Hull City shirt with his pink tongue lolling.

And the game? Oh Lord God Almighty! We won by six goals to nil! Our best ever result in the English Premiership! It was delightful to behold such slaughter!

One of the goals was powered home by midfielder Tom Huddlestone. It was the first Premiership goal he has scored since April 2011. Back then he said he would only have his hair cut again when he scored another goal so for months he has been sporting a bushy afro-style mop of hair held back with a black alice band. After scoring, he ran over to the dugout where a member of the club's backroom staff chopped off a handful of Tom's unruly hair with some handy scissors.

It was a magnificent performance by The Tigers and I was so glad to be there witnessing it. If they'd let Rex in the ground he would - no doubt - have barked for joy!

Tom Huddlestone
Midfield maestro and architect of today's thumping victory

Detentions

Schoolchildren will often misbehave. That misbehaviour invariably impedes or undermines education. Levels and types of misbehaviour are more significant in schools that serve disadvantaged communities. When you are at the frontline trying to deliver a decent education, there are very few sanctions you can call upon to squash the misbehaviour. Most of the time you rely upon your wit and the force of your personality.

As Head of English in the last Sheffield secondary school where I worked, I was responsible for managing the department's detention system. This had to comply with whole school policy on detentions. When I look back, it all seemed so bizarre and a monument to cock-eyed modern notions of fairness. Ultimately, the people who were punished most were not the juvenile miscreants but teachers like myself who'd been given the poisoned corporate chalice by a headteacher and deputies who tried to wash their hands of it all while they got on with their "strategic planning" like generals in a faraway bunker.

It worked like this. Pupil A - who we will call Bob - is persistently late for English lessons. Miss Brodie has warned Bob that if he doesn't improve his punctuality he will be placed on detention. Bob continues to arrive late, bursting into lessons after Miss Brodie has settled the class and explained the day's work. 

Miss Brodie writes out a self-duplicating  pupil referral slip. One copy goes in English department files, another is sent to the Head of Year and another is sent to central school records. She ticks the box that indicates a detention will be given. Then she goes to the English office where she takes a standardised detention letter from the drawer. She fills it in and then goes to the reprographic room to have the letter copied. This will be done by the end of the school day when she will have to return to pick up the letter and its copy. (Teachers aren't allowed to use a photocopier themselves).

She finds Bob's home address in the computer system and writes it on an envelope, directing the photocopy to school files as the original now in its envelope is sent down to the main office for posting. Then Miss Brodie remembers to write details of Bob's detention notification in the English department detention book. 

Thursday is English detention day. We are not allowed to clash with other departments' detention times. On the allotted day for Bob's detention, I pick up the detention book and the referral files and head for my classroom which is where the detentions happen after school - but must not last longer than half an hour according to school policy. Mr Booth supervises the detentions with me. We are a double act.

Pupils B and C have arrived as requested. They had been fighting in the corridor outside Miss Riley's room. Pupil D refuses to do homework and she has also arrived. Pupil E who scrawled graffiti in permanent pen all over one of Miss Twigg's windows is characteristically away from school on the day of the detention and must be re-processed. Pupils F & G have arrived at the third time of asking for swearing at a member of staff some four weeks ago and they can hardly remember the incident. Pupil A - our Bob - was in school but failed to turn up so he must also be re-processed and put on detention next week. Miss Brodie will have to go through the rigmarole again and in the meantime Bob will no doubt continue to be late for lessons.

If a pupil fails to turn up for his/her English detention twice in a row, only then may we refer the child to Mr Weasel the deputy headteacher for a senior teachers' detention. Mr Weasel often sighs and looks skywards when the names of detention refusers are finally presented to him - as if to say - I thought we'd made a detention net that would avoid any of the miscreants arriving at my door. Given the system, it is often six weeks before the identified child is passed to Mr Weasel and in the meantime other wrongdoing will have probably happened.

It was all a maze - like something out of Franz Kafka. It seemed to be designed on behalf of the children - not the hard-pressed staff who coped with misbehaviour like firefighters day after day. When I first started teaching, it used to be that you could say to a naughty child - right, you're on detention after school today. No letters, no phone calls, no reply slips, no hoops to go through. It happened there and then. And when the child got home late, its parents would ask why and when they heard about the detention their instinct would be to back up the school and say to the child, "Well don't do that again then!"

There's more I could say about the details of that crazy detention system but I hope that this description has at least given you a sense of how stupid and frustrating it all was. Of course, in the school in Bangkok, Thailand where I recently worked for a total of a year, I didn't need to put a single pupil on detention. There was no need to. They were happy to comply with reasonable authority and play by the rules. Funny that.

Reflection

In blogging, perhaps there comes a time when you have said everything. You have covered every life experience worth recounting, described the full gamut of your grievances, all joys and triumphs. Every homemade recipe has been detailed and all hobbies and passions. Yes. That's surely possible. You could get to the end of the line with nothing left to say.

But I have been at this blogging lark for eight and a half years now and I still can't see the end of the track. If I ever make it to the promised land of the old folks' residential home, I will probably still be blogging there. The Bulgarian  or Filipino care workers at "Evergreen Fields" will  be calling me to lunch - "Hey Missa Puddin - gotta stop dat bloggin bizzness right now and come for your soup! Is cockaleekie today! Y'know you like cockaleekie!" And reeking of stale urine with my chin all white and bristly, I'll press "Publish" before shuffling to the day room - using my aluminium zimmer frame for support.

Occasionally, I have come up with what I think might be good, fresh ideas for blogposts and then a little voice somewhere in the back of my head tells me to check previous posts with the "Search" facility. Several times I have discovered that the new idea is not fresh after all - and that I had previously covered the topic. You feel rather stupid when that happens. Perhaps I'll be residing in "Evergreen Fields" sooner than expected!

So this is an odd sort of post isn't it? Not really saying anything. Just treading water. But as our dear Queen Elizabeth II said in her Christmas speech yesterday, we all need to take time out for reflection - "With so many distractions, it is easy to forget to pause and take stock." How right she is.

The Queen - Christmas 2013

Tits

It's nice to look at pictures of tits on Christmas Day. I took these tit pictures from a bird hide that overlooks Willow Pool at the Potteric Carr Nature Reserve near Doncaster yesterday afternoon. Tits can be hard to photograph as they are skittish, fast moving creatures so I ended up taking forty pictures or more and these were the best three. They're all great tits, not to be confused with blue tits or coal tits. 

But as I was watching, two other creatures came to the bird feeding station. A female pheasant and an American grey squirrel. Surely, the grey squirrel must rank with Kentucky Fried Chicken, Coca Cola and McDonalds as one of our most unwelcome North American imports. It has spread so greedily and unremittingly throughout the British Isles, since its first appearance here in 1876, driving our beautiful native red squirrel to the edge of extinction.

 And now if you'll excuse me I will get back to paring Christmas vegetables...