I have no interest in holding up a mirror to the effectiveness or otherwise of the school system. We do not define ourselves by an institution in which we have no part.

We are fortunate to live in a part of the country that is as yet unaffected by your proposals, but we are not naive enough to believe that this will protect us long term from the ever increasing creep for information. You have become a government which does not trust its electorate, you are making us into a country that does not trust its citizens. You are attempting to make society believe that family life is dangerous, and children must be protected from it. In this case, your focus is EHE, and I wonder which minority group you will stigmatise next?

With this review, you are proposing that parents will lose their freedom to choose the form of their children’s education. The law as it stands gives us that right, and you now propose that we justify, explain, register and be monitored and regulated forexercising that right.

I know many families who like us, have never used the school system. I have seen many children who have come to home education as the result of failures of the system to protect them from bullying, to meet their educational needs, to be flexible enough to support their gifts. There are as many different reasons to home educate as their are home educators. There are as many different methods of doing it as there are home educators. But there is one common theme – the parents who have decided to embrace the responsibility for ensuring that their children receive a suitable education, tailored to their own needs, aptitudes and abilities. Children by their nature are in a constant state of change – to ask for yearly plans fails to acknowledge this, and demands a one-size-fits-all approach which is completely at odds with the whole ethos of home education.

If I were the parent of a child at school, I would feel very aggrieved that you are proposing spending a vast amount of resources – money which presumably will need to be diverted from the education budget – into monitoring something that doesn’t need it.Home education is not a risk factor for anything.

I would urge you to reject the proposals in the review.

So why do we home educate? At its simplest, just because we can. I’ve never been into explaining that decision – home education is (still) equal in law to school education, so at its simplest, we just chose that option.I’ve never asked someone why they chose to send their child to school, and I’ve always resented the implication that we need to explain our choices. Of course, there is curiousity about why people ever choose the road less travelled, whatever the context. So for us, that decision was based around the needs of a sick five year old. Having had major surgery as a baby, Hannah had a relapse in the few weeks before she was due to start school, and then developed septicaemia after a bout of tonsilitis went badly wrong. She was already enrolled at the local school – the best in the area apparently. And one completely incapable of dealing with the fact that she could barely stay awake for more than two hours at a time, or needed to drink 2 litres of water ever day, on the orders of her renal specialist. I think I knew it wouldn’t work out when they told me it was impossible for her to be allowed a sport’s bottle on her desk, and that the school auxiliary would measure out the requisite mls of water she needed every hour and come to the classroom to deliver it and ensure Hannah drank it.

And then there was Hannah herself. I had gone back to work two days a week when she was 18 months, and she went to a local nursery. Articulate from 11 months, Hannah informed us on a daily basis that she didn’t want to go. Firmly, and relentlessly. I was assured, of course, that she loved it the minute we’d gone, but most evenings when she was picked up she’d not be doing the socialising I was assured she did all day, but would be sitting in a corner with a book, her teddy, and her thumb. Around three, she worked out that when kids left nursery, they went to a place called school, and from that moment she started a war of attrition, informing us, her grandparents, the nursery staff, her paediatrician, random shop assistants, and anyone else who enquired, that she would not be going to school. Not ever.

The final straw came when the school informed us that our traumatised five year old, just out of hospital again, could not take her teddy to school with her – apparently it would mark her out as different, Effectively, they were telling us our child would be bullied, and they would do nothing to stop it.

Having worked with travelling families, I knew that HE was an option. Everyone told us it was my issue, the longed for only child of older parents, who couldn’t cut the apron strings. Nursery suggested family therapy to deal with Hannah’s separation issues. Both sets of grandparents were horrified. For us, we kept coming back to the fact that no one could promise us that we’d still have her in year’s time – did we really want to think she’d spent that year in a place she didn’t want to be – a school with a 1000 pupils.

We went to open days, I worried all that summer, and then we went away in our caravan for 6 weeks, and suddenly away from home, with Hannah gradually regaining some strength, we decided to go for it. At 10 pm in the evening the night before school started, we hand-delivered a letter saying “Thanks for the offer of a place, but over the summer we’ve decided to make private arrangments for Hannah’s education, which we feel will be better suited to her needs at the moment.” Hannah had stayed up and insisted on seeing the delivery of the letter -she whooped with excitment as we looked at it on the mat. I felt sick.

The next day we took the requisite “first day at school” photos at the door, with Hannah complete with teddy, and Bob, like thousands of other dads, off work for the day. We had planned to go to Arran for the day, but the sea was so rough it wasn’t possible, and we went to the Science Museum in Glasgow instead – to discover city schools were off for another day, and we didn’t stand out as much as I had feared.

I had some daft idea that we would play schools all day – I certainly bought enough resources in that panic striken first year. We still fully intended that Hannah would go to school at 6, so we bought the reading and maths schemes that the local school used. I’ve written before about my embarrassment when Hannah was trying to explain the symbiotic relationship between feeder birds and elephants, and I shrieked excitedly “yes, elephant – and what sound does that begin with?” But we rubbed along – I took a career break, and then Bob went back on shift, and that made it all much easier as he was around for two days during the week, and I worked those days. At six, we realised that the classes would be reconfigured at school when the kids were 7, so it seemed sensible to wait till then. At 7, it was working so well that we decided one more year….Bob went back on days, so we found a lovely childminder, so I could carry on working.

By that point, we were throwing the reading schemes etc out, and just doing what interested her – a schooled family in the next caravan one summer were aamazed to see Hannah sitting listening to Greek Myths – the boundaries between work and not-work became blurred, and eventually disappeared completely. We carried on pretty much like that for 5 years.

Hannah is now a young woman. At 13 she is bright and mature. She is starting to do more “school-type” work again. She reads everything from National Geographic to Jodi Picoult novels, to the pack of the cornflakes pack. She has a passion for history, and is more than comptetent in maths. Her writing and spelling is probably not as good as they would be if she’d gone to school, as we’ve never done drills or busy work, but she CAN and does write competely legibily. She is learning Spanish and Latin, and wanders through sciences as the notion takes her. She makes and sells jewellery fairly successfully, plays keyboard, is learning violin, and is a keen athlete. She’s won multiple medals for field events, is in netball club, and loves Guides. She is still quiet, but confident and capable, frequently earning money to go to various residential camps.

She says she will never go to school, and I feel slightly sorry that she will never have that experience in common with others – she will always have that gap on job applications, will always have to explain her “weird” upbringing. Sometimes (not very often) I wish I’d never hear about home ed. I wish I could have a day to myself. I wish the house wasn’t always covered in half finished projects. I’d like my dining room back (never a school room, but annexed by Hannah a few years ago for “stuff”), I worry about socialising -not socialisation, not at all, but we’ve never had a local HE community, and I envy others having that. We’ve never had the chance to do HE groups or outings. In those early panicky years I got all my support on line from the Muddle Puddle list and camps – something I will always be grateful for – and for knowing all those women who were walking the path as well. Their humour, kindness and support meant such a lot – I’m assuming you know who you are , but there has not ever been anything which offered Hannah that same sense of normalcy.

But at the end of the day – I consider it to have been an absolute privilege to have spent so much time with her.

The best was really enjoyed work today. Several coaching meetings, and a team session, all of which I love doing (and may even be good at). So even though it was Edinburgh, and an early start, it was a good day.

Hannah had: made pizza dough in breadmaker; done Latin (English to Latin, so quite hard); did some more comprehension from her GP English book; some NVR; reviewed angles from her maths book; did her Spanish (we are using this, which seems to really suit her); and finished a Sequin Art project which has been on the go for a while. Looks surprisingly nice.

I came home, and ran her down to Tesco, as she wanted more Sharpies (really encouraging the mind mapping atm), Bob came home and assembled the pizzas. Hannah has gone to athletics, and I am fuming about the non-reporting of my recent scans and biopsies. I felt I fell through the NHS net a bit, went private, and while it accelerated the process of getting things done, I  CANNOT get anyone to call me with results, despite VIS promising faithfully he would do this (and has taken down my phone numbers 3 times now). I phoned the hospital, discovered he had now left for a long weekend, and was told “I’m sure he would have called you if there was anything to worry about”. Er no, we dumped that philosophy about 20 years ago. Called my GP, and he can’t access them as they haven’t been signed off yet. Upset, angry, fed up.

But did sell another course this evening

Had a very trying session with VIS, so, so fed up of this, want some answers and some action. Reports not uploaded, so didn’t get the answers today yet.

Came home and worked for a few hours, but really couldn’t settle, and can’t walk so much because of knee and hamstring soreness, so offered to take Hannah to lunch. Very civilised. We sat in Starbucks, we drank lattes (albeit she had a syrupy one), and she did her Spanish online while I did some more work.

Came home and she did a maths test, a comprehension paper from her English book, and some Latin translations.

Bob came home and we popped out to get a case for my netbook, and then we had steak bagettes and corn on the cob for dinner. In the middle of it I got to test my new credit card terminal, as I sold two courses

Bob gave me a massage, while Hannah and I watched Dragon’s Den, and now I’m thinking about bed. This day will seem better when I’m on the other side of it.

So, last week I was asked if I could work today, to cover a meeting.  Even though I don’t work on Mondays, and it’s a day I hate working as an extra, I’m also conscious that I’ve been either metaphorically or actually absent a lot recently, so I said yes. Then realised that it was 9am start, in Edinburgh, with no parking within a mile. So I’m up at 4.30, and on the road to miss the worst of the traffic, get there, park, walk, wait in waiting area. And no one else appears. I’d been dumped Really pee-d off. So that was the morning written off.

Got home to find Hannah had been making herself motivational posters, after reading a Tony Buzan book on learning that I had been reading, and had also been doing a bit of maths, english and Science from Galore Park. We had lunch together, groomed the dog, and then Bob phoned to ask if we fancied a trip to London in a couple of weeks. (Yes, but don’t know if I can get time off.) He is going on a course, and has been booked into a family room, so all we would need to pay would be rail fares for Hannah and I and food. Seems too good to miss, so I need to work on manifesting that

Papa’s consultant had phoned to ask if he could talk to Bob tonight. He hadn’t planned on going tonight, having been yesterday as an extra visit, but obviously felt he needed to go, so he’s gone there straight from work.

I’m on a bit of an economy gastronomy drive after watching Allegra and Paul. I always think we don’t waste food, but we decided to audit it last week, and although we tend not to waste meat, as we shop for it daily, (or chocolate or wine for that matter!), I was completely horrified to realise how much we over-catered, and then eventually how many leftovers we threw out, and how much fruit and veg went off before it was eaten. Nice fruit gets scoffed, but horrible apples don’t.

So tonight a rummage in the fridge found half an onion, half a pepper, half a courgette, and some very soft over ripe tomatoes. So, I simmered it all with a tin of tomatoes and whipped it into sauce, bunged it in the liquidiser, stirred it into rice, bunged a few frozen peas in, and shredded a single chicken leg left from Saturday on top. I thought it was really nice, Hannah thought it was fuel, and I feel virtuous. Bob always cooks far too much pasta, and Hannah had had that last night, so there was a tupperware of cold pasta in the fridge. So I also made a cheese sauce with the ends of three different kinds of cheese, which might normally find its way into the bin, fried a tin of artickokes with some bacon, and have rigatoni cheese all ready to pop into the oven to finish off for tomorrow night.  And I’m really embarrassed that we’ve made two substantial dinners out of food that would easily under normal circumstances, end up in the bin.  And of course, gone two days without needing to spend money on food. The apples are currently simmering and then can go in the freezer as a base for a crumble come the weekend.

And that’s it really. I think this may be why I stopped blogging – not sure this is at all riveting for anyone else!

……those damn internet holes

A really quiet day. Hannah has felt that she didn’t want to see her Papa in hospital, and given she’s been unwell, it hasn’t really been an option anyway. She was adamant though she wanted to remember him sitting in his chair at home, and not see him sick and confused. However, she came through this morning and asked if she could go, and in the circumstances, asking her to wait till tomorrow seemed risky. So although Bob hadn’t been planning to go today, he ran her up, and fortunately there was no one else there, so she saw him quietly, and he knew her and while clearly confused (he insisted I had been there looking after him during the night, so he had said to her that he was glad her mum hadn’t come, as she’d sat with him all night, so must be tired) he had seemed relaxed. And as his platlets have come up a bit, he no longer looks as if he’s done 6 rounds in the boxing ring. I’m not sure she’ll go back, but she’s glad she went.

On the down side though, while she is obviously over the infectious part of the flu, and really it wasn’t any worse than normal flu (in fact, maybe not even as bad), it’s left her absolutely shattered. She had slept most of the way through the journey home, and has slept most of the afternoon. While some of it is probably emotional stuff, I think a lot of it is post-viral. She’s obviously lost a bit of blood the last few days as well, which won’t be helping, but she looks and clearly feels exhausted. She says even reading is tiring her out, so Bob has been pleased to be able to get back to reading aloud to her – something he has always loved doing, but lately she’s been less interested in. So he is reading the latest Celia Rees to her.  Had she been at school, she certainly wouldn’t yet be well enough to start the new term, which is already a week underway.

I’ve half heartedly done some cleaning, but I’m feeling quite weary as well, I think we’ve all been living on edge a bit. Took the dog for a walk, washed my hair, did a bit of work for a meeting tomorrow, and have now decided it’s wine o’clock. Bob is going to make my favourite courgette risotto for dinner in a bit. Yum.

Hannah and I also looked through some photo albums to put together a photo frame for Papa at the hospital, and had a littlebittersweet trip down memory lane.

Other than that, the only thing I’ve done (well actually, only wasted energy on, as failed to do it) was to set up a paid-for blog on WP. Need to find somewhere to host it that doesn’t talk to me like I’m thick. Actually, want it to function as a website, rather than a blog, as I’m going to start running some courses in England, and all my sites are optimised for Scotland. So I want something I can set up and edit myself easily. I’ve looked at www.healthhosts.co.uk, (actually, I do have some sites with them already). They are good, but at £11 per month, plus the set up fees, it mounts up.

So, two days in a row……..

Clearly its been a long time, and as I’m not sure really why I stopped, I’m also not sure if I’ll keep going. Somehow I’ve lost the blogging enthusiasm, and as it had become more of a way of keeping up with friends, BK seems much easier. So I’m rusty…..

However, a review of last 8 months. Well, most importantly, Hannah became a teenager – I’m frigthened to say it, in case it all bites me in the bum, but the one advantage of maturing so early seems to have been that adolescence followed sharp of the heels of four-ness, and teen-ness is much less trying than hormonally challenged 7 year old was.

I thought she might choose to go to school, but she remains certian she isn’t interested at the moment  -while she admits to some curiousity, she is convinced that the downsides would outweigh the positives. She has talked about a science tutor, but we are having no luck with that at all, and we have never managed to find a modern languages teacher either. She’s contining to play keyboard, and really enjoying it, and is starting to learn violin. She is thinking about a guitar for Christmas. Mainly though she’s been putting lots of effort into athletics, and she is begining to accumulate a large clutch of medals. She is finding this year is relatively tough though, as she moved up an age group, and is now a young under-15. She loves Guides, and is doing her Baden-Powell badge, and next year is hoping to train as a youth leader, and start a Duke of Edinburgh award.

She’s had a summer of camps – a week with Guides; a weeks at HESFES, which she liked, but both Bob and I found disappointing, stressful and ultimately rather sad; and a week at adeventure camp. She loved that, and I’m so proud of her that she just takes these opportunities and enjoys them and manages so well to go places where she knows no one and makes friends. I had a rather robust discussion with a friend here lately, who has three girls, and was talking about how she didn’t have much time for only children, finding them spoiled and needy. Although she was careful to say she didn’t include Hannah in that assessment, I have to say that my experience of them is that they are (and it is a generalisation) more resourceful and emotionally robust, as they are used to having to make it on their own, without the cushion of siblings to support and entertain them.  I always think its odd though that singletons are fair game in a way – behaviour that in other kids would just be ignored is put down to their lack-of-sibling status. A parent with three would be seriously unhappy at me feeding her the stereotype that her youngest was being babied, her middle one was ignored and her eldest had too much responsibility, and yet the stereotype of a selfish and spoiled singleton is embraced pretty whole heartedly, in my experience.

Anyway, while Hannah was at camp, I finally caught up with Nic after FAR too long,  as even she was begining to think that while I was once real, I no longer was.

I’ve had a fun few months, as my thyroid has started to play up again after many years of good behaviour, and despite numerous tests, scans, xray, drugs  and biopsies still haven’t really sorted out a plan of action. However, that has sort of been pushed to the side by a bout of swine flu (Hannah) and a massive brain bleed (Bob’s dad). Hannah is fine, but Papa’s prognosis is very poor, and we are at the stage of jumping every time the phone rings.  Also we are so far away that the hospital thing is hard to manage, as they are completely inflexible about visiting times.

Business went well this year, and although it would be nice to be more profitable, it’s gratifying to see that it’s growing substantially even in the current climate. Bloody hard work though!

So….I may be back again soon…….

So yesterday we went to Linn of Dee. It is one of my most favourite places on earth. We walked for a few miles, but as Hannah had been a Stacey and wouldn’t take a decent jacket or walking boots, she was freezing, so we turned back before we saw any deer. Lots of nice photos though, which I can’t upload on the power tv.  Came back via Braemar and had a mosey round the outdoor shop as Bob split his climbing boots the other day, but didn’t see anything he liked. May try to get the others repaired, as he loves them. Bought mealy puddings for lunch time, to have with home made lentil soup. I can make these myself from scratch, as my Gran taught me as a kid, but given we only ever eat them once a year, we buy them from the Queen’s butcher in Braemar! You serve the soup (has to be lentil) in a bowl with the lip, and you put the oatmeal all round the lip, and put some on your soon before you lift some soup. The wikepaedia picture of it served fried for breakfast is a very English way of eating it lol, just done for the tourists

I went for a walk in the late afternoon, while Bob and Hannah wii-ed and then in the evening we were still full, so had toasites and popcorn with a movie night. To make up for no pool, the hotel had reduced all the inhouse movies to 50p, so we watched Nancy Drew and Wall E. While they were doing that, I sent out a newsletter for the business.

Today, we went back to Aberdeen, Bob and Hannah swam, I walked and then spent a couple of hours using Costa’s wifi and a decent mobile reception to respond to the thirty requests for a place on the taster day as advertised in the newsletter. Going to have to find another venue, as mine can only cope with 8. Eek. Think I have sorted out a room in a HI Express. Bob and Hannah now movie viewing again, and I’m about to use the in-lodge jacuzzi and sauna. Bliss.

Actually, probably frostbite. Weather is just fantastic, freezing, but fantastic. Lots and lots of light

Bob was at a Javelin coaching course on Sunday, half way here, so it was decided he would travel by public transport in the morning to his course, and I would pack and pick him up on the way. Best laid plans and all that, when we discovered he couldn’t get out of town on public transport on Sunday morning befor 10am, so at the last minute he had to go on Sat night. Sunday morning, we got up and the dog was in season. Shit. My mum had offered to have her, despite me saying I would put her in kennels, but she was not at all happy to discover she was in heat. I phoned the kennels, and her being in heat wasn’t a problem for them, but they need to have had kennel cough immunisation 7 days before they go, so that was out. Decided we couldn’t go, but my mum did agree to have her in the end. Dog meanwhile looking confused and sorry for herself (its her second season, but the vet said in a dog her size we could expect 9 month gaps, but this was 6 months to the day). Shit shit shit. She would have been spayed, but the vet will only do them between weeks 8-16 of their cycle, and we missed the window the last time as we were distracted by the kitchen saga.

Then discovered that with the dog stuff, and no back seat to use either (as the dog travels in a harness), I could NOT get everything into the car. Started randomly saying we couldn’t take things and the wii fit, the slow cooker, my memory foam pillow etc, the skiis, all hit the dust. Hannah in the huff about the wii, and it was blowing a force 10 gale and pissing it down all the while I’m dragging stuff in and out to re-arrange. FINALLY got it in, Hannah decided we were ok for room for the first 50 miles till we picked Bob up, and would be OK again for the last 50 after we’d dropped the dog off, so for the couple of hours in the middle she would sit with the wii on her lap. So that was sorted, off we went, and 40 miles from the house, in a sleet storm Hannah asked in a small voice that if it were ME, and I was going away for a week, and thought I’d left the hair straighteners plugged in, what would I do????? FUCK!!! Calmly (!?) turned the car round, drove 40 miles back, discovered (of course), that she had switched them off, and set off again. Finally got within 10 miles of Bob to discover the road closed due to flooding, so the AA directions were no longer valid. Drove around lots more in the sleet, car steamed up, dog crying, etc, and eventually by more luck than judgement, found him. Then realised that Bob had a big rucksack, as he had taken a sleeping bag etc, as he had only gone to a hostel. Unpacked car again (Bob: you had lots of room if you had packed it efficiently. Me: Fuck off, you tosser. Hannah: I’ll need therapy soon). FINALLY set off for my mums, dumped the dog, who pissed my mum off as she ignored her in favour of slopping all over my dad. (To be fair, he lived with us for 8 weeks during the kitchen saga, so she is used to him). Mum: well, if you like HIM so much, he can clean up after you all week. Us: thank you and good bye!!

Bob and I reunited in harmoney over missing the dog, and set off over the glen to the Cairgorm National Park. Checked into our lodge, and was told that as they had suffered a burst pipe, there would be no swimming pool, no spa, and basically nothing that we come here for in sodding January. Then discovered that they’ve installed a power TV since we were last here (which I’m currently using to access the internet), and it had no socket for the wii. Had pizza, another argument, and we all went to bed.

Monday things looked up, and we all had a bracing talk about being in a lovely venue, shouldn’t let one thing spoil it, no one could make us miserable without our permission (sodding NLP, lol), and we had a long walk in lovely sunshine, a great roast dinner with some nice wine, and I discovered that the portable tv in the bedroom had the right sockets. So bob brought that upstairs (the lodge is upside down for the views), and we all played wii ski till after midnight.

Today we drove into Aberdeen, about 50 miles away, and Bob and Hannah spent about three hours in the tropical leisure pool, with flumes, waves, rapids etc, while I walked for about 6 miles. We met up for coffee in the afternoon, and took a brief trip into the city centre to get some more reading material, since we are more reliant on entertaining ourselves, and headed home to a casserole which had been in a low oven all day. Now having some local whisky which you can only get direct from the distillery along the road, they only make it for the export market, and feeling no pain