Learning in Lockdown

Always a lover of learning, I feel like I've been doing even more of it in lockdown. Whether that's really the case, or whether it's just that I have more time to notice what I'm discovering, I'm not sure yet..


Still not happy to actually call what I've been doing for the last half term and a bit 'teaching', I keep finding myself putting it in inverted commas (just like that). It may not be what we're used to, and it may not be what any of us signed up to do, but it is a learning curve. As with anything, there have been many pros and cons of 'working from home' as a teacher. It's definitely not a job that lends itself to distance, but I like to think I've made the best of it. I'm learning a lot more about ways to adapt online learning to make it as accessible and interesting as possible. I'm learning more about the lives that my students lead when they're at home with their families through the long phone calls each week (definitely a highlight). I'm learning more about what it is that I love about teaching. Like many of my students, I'm all too ready to return to 'normal', but while I know that isn't possible, I'm learning to enjoy the different challenges that 'working from home' brings (so many inverted commas).


Many seem to be turning to nature more than ever as a source of comfort at this time. The introvert in me has mixed feelings about this; 'yes it's lovely that you're making the most of this park / this footpath / this woodland, but also, can there be less of you, please? This is usually my quiet spot.' But no, really, it is good that people are taking advantage of the natural spaces around them for their exercise of brain and body. With more time to spend paying attention to the nature on my doorstep, I've been learning a little more about it. I've been learning to identify birdsong. I've been learning to identify previously unknown plant species. I've been learning random facts a-plenty through a weekly nature quiz. With lockdown measures slowly lifting, my walks are getting longer but I still can't wait to be able to venture even further afield again for days of endless walking with nature. Either way, it has been lovely to spend a little more time with the plants in my hanging baskets and the swan family in the park.

Having once received 23% in a pre-GCSE art exam, I've never had great faith in my artistic talents. Like most teachers, any time I have to draw something as a model for my students, it's always preceded by 'now, obviously I'm not an artist' or 'remember, this isn't an art lesson'. But a lover of all things beautiful to look at, I've followed a few artists on Instagram for a while now, and one of my favourite methods of painting, it seems, is watercolour. I particularly love portraits of people or pets, as well as floral paintings and building illustrations. Inspired, and with more time spent at home, I decided to order a few bits to get me started, and since the end of April have spent several Sunday evenings painting. I've mostly been following tutorials, but last week I found the confidence to have a go at something of my own. I'm learning to be less of a perfectionist. I'm learning to listen to my own advice constantly given out to students that effort and enjoyment is what matters. I'm having fun.

As Nelly Furtado taught us in Try, 2003, 'the more I grow, the less I know' (she always did have such excellent lyrics). Certainly my favourite thing about learning is that it is endless. 'Back to school' tomorrow somehow feels like I'm entering Phase 2 of lockdown. Obviously I've got no idea what that means (if anything), but I'm sure there will be plenty more learning moments (both big and small) along the way.

Costa del Lockdown

Day one of working from home (whatever that looks like for a teacher; lots of online resource creating, emails and phonecalls to parents, and replying to students' sweet, strange and utterly bizarre comments on the stream of their Google Classroom), and having shut up shop an hour or so ago, I'm sat on the sofa with a bundle of cats at my feet while I finally read a few more chapters of the book I've been working on since the February half term. 

Suddenly, I'm overcome with a sense of waiting. Very much like that feeling of being at an airport before a flight. You're through security, and perhaps you've even made it as far as the gate. So now you're feeling relatively relaxed and, sitting quietly with something to pass the time, you await your boarding call.

And so the sense of waiting has continued. I started this post three and a half weeks ago and in some ways, a lot has happened since then. In others, nothing has. Since making the comparison to waiting at an airport, we've also decided that lockdown is a little like the longest caravan holiday you've ever been on (although, slightly confusingly, the weather's good!?), or, in the lighter moments, it's like the time spent sitting on the deck of a cruise ship on the sail between ports. 

With the coming of Spring, the Easter holiday is perhaps one of my favourites, and while this one was nothing like the others, and nothing like it was supposed to be, I've definitely made the best of it.

The first time I wrote this year, I shared my New Year's resolution: to slow down. Perhaps not entirely of my own volition, I'd say my resolution's been going rather well so far. While my body likes to remind me that yes, this whole situation is indeed making me very anxious, my mind has been pretty good at embracing a slower pace of life for two weeks in lockdown without any 'working from home' to keep me busy. 

Habit dictates that with beautiful weather comes days of aimless meandering, sometimes with a picnic lunch if I'm feeling really organised. Well aimless meandering has still been possible, but with the added challenge of getting out and home again in our allotted hour. I've enjoyed woodland, parks (although they make me unnecessarily nervous), riverside, and, most of all, random streets in and around my area that I've never had any reason before to walk along. I've particularly enjoyed  observing the gradual change of season; blossom abundant on trees now giving way to greenery, and all in glorious sunshine.

I've been reading. First, I finished the book mentioned above that I started so long ago but couldn't find the time to finish. Then I returned to comfort (of sorts) in a Morse which fortunately I'd bought in Waterstones on my way home one evening before everything started to shut down. Since finishing that, I've been reading Ant Middleton's Autobiography, which I'm finding fascinating. All have one thing in common; they offer a little escapism.

When I first started writing this, I had just had a massive cleanse of my social media (namely Instagram), and the first time I scrolled the morning after, I definitely noticed the difference. Ashamed to admit that with a lot of news, I take an 'ignorance is bliss' attitude, but as a massive hypochondriac, I've actually preferred in this situation to keep myself informed of the facts (where possible). 

What's been really bothering me over the past few weeks is the sudden appearance online of all these experts. People who I thought I was following because they've got an eye for interiors or inspire me with their travels are suddenly full of all the wisdom in the world about how I should be living my life. 

Creativity, especially, is such a personal thing. I'm creative. I'm a musician. I'm a teacher. I'm a writer (maybe that's a stretch).. I write. I take photographs. Naturally with so much time to hand, and with so much 'influence' online, I thought I'd have time for all of the above, and then some. But I haven't. I'm surprised by how quickly the days pass. I'm left wondering how I ever had time to fit everything in before, but I'm also allowing myself to be 'lazy'. I'm allowing myself not to be overly-productive. I'm allowing myself to spend that little bit longer sitting in a particular spot, or laying in bed, or just sticking with one activity before I move to the next. 

I am a little disappointed that I haven't played any of my instruments or sung properly for weeks, but it doesn't mean I've not been musical. I've been listening to music every single day, and thinking really carefully about what it is that I want to listen to. I've been doing a jigsaw puzzle. I've been playing a new board game. I've been cooking new dishes (no, I haven't baked any banana bread). I've been learning to identify bird song. I've been taking time to find out the names of the flowers I'm admiring on my walks and in the garden. I've done a little colouring. I've done some yoga; not lots, but some. 

I'm not really sure what the point of my post is today (is there ever one?), but I think it's mostly to remind anyone who might need reminding that we're all different, and that we choose to spend this time in the way that we wish. It's a strange time indeed, and difficult. But we can still make the best of it, however that may look for us. 

We could all learn a lot from Garnet.

Finding light in January

Yes my body is still exhausted (although having written that first line a few weeks ago, I'm pleased to report that over the last week or so my legs have actually felt a lot lighter walking to and from school). Yes the sky has generally been far too grey and gloomy. Yes I would happily return to the Christmas Holidays with their comfy-cosiness and total lack of responsibility. But actually, January's not been so bad this year. I've been doing my best to find a little light where I can!


As always, there's been plenty of walking. Whereas the dark after the Summer crept in so fast I barely even noticed the change, in Winter I've been paying close attention to the lighter mornings and evenings, too. Even though it's only a minute or so every couple of days, it's been a nice small thing to celebrate as I walk to and sometimes from school.

In the second weekend of January, Steven and I took a new walk from home to Wandsworth Common. The circuit was pleasant, and took us a little way along the Wandle, some of the way along my usual school route, then up hill at Earlsfield and past many a gorgeous house in what's apparently known as 'the ladder' (although not the Haringey one), and onto the Common itself.

Never one to shy away from a walk, I do find myself walking slightly less in Winter if not only for the fact that there is less light. Leave it too late at a weekend, and you're chasing the sun. So it felt good even in January to feel as though we had a little more time. Yes, the sun was setting as we made our way home, but it wasn't quite dark by the time we made it, and then when it was, we were ready to get comfy-cosy and embrace it anyway.

Today, I've walked from Hampton Station to Hampton Court Palace for a school trip recce. Actually choosing for once to come away from the Thames, instead I took a detour through Bushy Park as I'd never been before. Got fairly soggy on my way home this afternoon in the 'light rain', but I was pleasantly surprised by a short but sweet appearance from the sun this morning.

I've been practising yoga intermittently since I moved to London. Introduced by my friend Sam, I've had an on-off relationship with it (like with any exercise, really) but recently I've been re-invigorated and have been enjoying a daily practise since the start of December. As is my preference with food, little and often seems to suit me well, and I'm really embracing yoga as part of my morning routine now.

This month I've been following Yoga With Adriene for some yummy at home yoga which means PJs, scented candles, and intrigued cats. Shocking, I know, but I'm pretty fussy when it comes to classes. Temperature, teacher, the playlist, a lack of playlist, smelly yoga mats, lighting, the list of elements that can make or break a yoga class' atmosphere is endless.. But at home, I'm far more content in my little yoga bubble where I can control almost every foreseeable factor.

Even on the mornings when I haven't quite felt up to getting out of bed those 30 minutes early, I've had a little light waiting for me, and it's been really reassuring and just such a good way to start my day.

For the third year (we think), Sam (of yoga introducing fame) and I went to Canary Wharf for their Winter Lights festival. Ever the optimistic, I felt as though we were in luck because it wasn't so cold as previous years.. but by light installation number 26, and 3 hours later, my numb hands had suggested otherwise.

Numbness aside, it was another beautiful year. And we were so pleased to have actually had time to see every installation this year! Choosing to go in numerical order, we followed the map from 1 through to 26 and loved the theme of reusable materials that seemed to be running through a lot of the installations.

Without the cold driving us to move on, we probably could have stopped and stared at a fair few which had particularly mesmerising qualities. As always, it was a lovely way to spend a Friday night, and the perfect way to find a little extra light in January.

February brings with it a half term, so I'm hoping for a little more adventure, but I'm also determined to stick to my New Year's resolution of taking it slow. Perhaps a slower paced January has also left me feeling a little lighter. Who knows?

Slowly into the New Year

2020 has arrived, and with it a little sunshine at last.

Yesterday's lunch spot.

I've been quiet for a while. Not because I've had nothing to write about, but partly because of a lack of energy and inspiration, and partly because of a lack of time (a bit of a chicken and the egg scenario, if I'm honest).

On reflection, 2019 was a strange year because it was the first in a while where nothing momentous happened. I'm settled in my job. I'm settled in my home. I'm settled in my relationship. I'm settled. And with being settled comes a stupid sense of having not achieved anything; which is ridiculous. It took almost reaching the end of the year to realise a few things. One of these things was as above; relatively speaking, 2019 was a quiet year. Which is fine. Only it wasn't entirely fine, because another thing I realised is that what happened was that I crammed my time full of social events and occasions to make myself feel like I was doing something worthwhile. Which is fine. Only it's not totally fine when you feel completely and utterly shattered by the time December comes around.

So in December, I started to slow down. And while that may sound like leaving it too late, I'm going with the notion that this slowing down is how I'm moving into a New Year. So it's not too late; I just started my resolution a month early.

Is there anything better than sitting on a bench, 

knowing you're in no rush?

As always, I've already plotted a few social events and occasions into my diary and onto the calendar so poor Steven doesn't get left behind (it's no wonder he can't keep up..), but I'm plotting them with care. I'm taking each month into consideration as a whole, not living week by week. If one major event that involves travel or people coming to stay is happening in a month, then that's it. Unless there are extenuating circumstances, then I embrace a slower pace.

There were many elements that I loved about 2019, not least the places that I got to see and the people I got to see them with. With a few empty days between New Year and the start of a new term, I've enjoyed slow wanderings closer to home. Yesterday it was a new stretch of the Thames Path from Kingston to Richmond with the sun on my back, and today it was to and from Wimbledon with the sun in my eyes (all in the name of Vitamin D).

Got to love a line of Cormorants.

Was I wearing sensible footwear? Me? Never.

Relief for my tired tootsies when familiarity was in sight!

Tomorrow looks equally as quiet as the past few days. Perhaps we'll make time for a dog walk before the return to reality on Monday. Slowly, I'm ready to make my way into another New Year.