Tag Archives: life

Ofsted, 16th century style

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We popped into the Guildhall to buy our annual load of charity Christmas cards. They were being sold in a room adjacent to the Roysse Room, which of course has a certain interest to us as it was the site of the original Abingdon School. (Oh, yes, and we got married there.)

In the lobby outside you can read the rules of the original John Roysse School. They knew their stuff in those days.

The children shall come to school at 6am in the summer and leave at 5pm. In winter school will start at 7am at the discretion of the Mayor and headmaster.

And …

The headmaster will not allow the children to play for more than four days a year. If he lets them play for more he shall pay three shillings and four pence to go into the school funds.

And (my favourite):

Every six months the Mayor and Principal Burgesses shall visit the school to make sure that all these rules are being kept. The second time they find things not in order the headmaster shall be expelled, especially if he is not doing prayers.

Fraudulent slip

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We have very excitingly triggered the first ever investigation into fraudulent activity on the family credit card.

It’s that time of year when we book tickets for next year’s annual Sweden holiday. Usually we book so far in advance that our carrier of choice, Ryanair, will take us at 2 shillings and sixpence if we promise to strap-hang at the back, plus a small mortgage’s worth of airport taxes. This year we’ve left it late enough that Ryanair is actually slightly more expensive than SAS, so that’s who we will be going with, with the concomitant advantage of flying out of Heathrow rather than Stansted and landing at a proper airport at the other end rather than a converted airforce base.

Anyway, I came home this evening to what sounded suspiciously like a phishing scam on the answerphone from the card company. “This a message for-” (change tone) “Ben” (change back again) “-concerning possible fraudulent activity on your card. Please press any button on your phone now …”

It turned out to be a genuine query and I set their minds at rest. For some reason the ticket purchase had tweaked their antennae and they wanted to verify it. But it’s not the first time I’ve spent a sum like that and previously it’s always gone through without a quibble.

“Obviously,” I said to Best Beloved as I hung up, “they’ve got us down as Ryanair customers …”

If you’re in a hole, stop digging

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Best Beloved served up some really quite nice rice pudding for dessert. I went to boarding school: “nice” and “rice pudding” have never belonged together in the same sentence. This was hot and creamy with a hint of cinnamon.

Quoth Bonusbarn: “it’s a bit like phlegm, isn’t it?”

[Transfixed by twin glares]

“I mean, good phlegm, obviously.”

[Glares do little in the way of abating]

“The kind that’s out, not still in and making you feel unwell.”

I think we then talked about the weather.