Education, Education, Education
Crikey. In little over a week Nancy will start her school career. Her school seeks to make learning irresistible which is catchier than veritas sine timore (veritably without men called Tim) I guess but doesn't make the heart sing does it? However, the school in question has a uniform (to which I have skillfully affixed her name badges to with sewing skills of rare finesse) which Nancy is deeply excited about donningand when she does don it I am sure that a little piece of me will break and I may well shed a tear. Because that is how I roll. Like a big teary dog. Egad.
Quite how she will respond to being thrust into an educational irresistible environment is anyone's guess. Given her google like memory for the minutiae of life, I dare say she will be fine although her slightly idiosyncratic diction might raise the odd eye brow but that is probably to be saluted. It will give her an edge in the global race. Who wouldn’t want to be called a dandyprat?
Sadly, with the commencement of her schooling comes the end of her time with Yaya, the most beloved childminder who has looked after Nancy most splendidly since she was the most robust side of beef until now when she is this rather tall little girl who sings songs to frosted windows ("Dear Window/where did your diamond crystals come from/maybe the clouds/maybe a bird/I don't know/ DEAR WINDOW, where did you diamond crystals come from/ No idea / With the Rain?" - poignant beyond any reasonable measure) and gallivants around rather wonderfully. She even invited us to a family wedding in a shopping centre in rural Gujurat, which we had to turn down. Again, I think at the moment of seperation a tear may be shed. By us all.
Sadly, her curatorial hand (we are all curators now) is missing from this month's entry but the baton passing draws nearer, of that much I'm sure. Here are so more pictures of the girl.
Quite how she will respond to being thrust into an educational irresistible environment is anyone's guess. Given her google like memory for the minutiae of life, I dare say she will be fine although her slightly idiosyncratic diction might raise the odd eye brow but that is probably to be saluted. It will give her an edge in the global race. Who wouldn’t want to be called a dandyprat?
Sadly, with the commencement of her schooling comes the end of her time with Yaya, the most beloved childminder who has looked after Nancy most splendidly since she was the most robust side of beef until now when she is this rather tall little girl who sings songs to frosted windows ("Dear Window/where did your diamond crystals come from/maybe the clouds/maybe a bird/I don't know/ DEAR WINDOW, where did you diamond crystals come from/ No idea / With the Rain?" - poignant beyond any reasonable measure) and gallivants around rather wonderfully. She even invited us to a family wedding in a shopping centre in rural Gujurat, which we had to turn down. Again, I think at the moment of seperation a tear may be shed. By us all.
Sadly, her curatorial hand (we are all curators now) is missing from this month's entry but the baton passing draws nearer, of that much I'm sure. Here are so more pictures of the girl.
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| Last day at Nursery |
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| Goodebye to all that |
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