Blogs from Saint Albans, Hertfordshire, England, United Kingdom, Europe - page 3

Friday last day at work. Hung over. Last night was leaving do's and it was a little heavy. Lorraine had been to the dentist yesterday for a 'last minute' bit of work so didn't eat all day after her fillings. Of course a night out on an empty stomach equals being collected by your husband!!! Up early this morning and bleary drive to hospital for a 'last minute' check up then on to work. To say things are running at ninety is an understatement. I got five kids to feed - or it feels like it. Nine days from now we are getting on the plane - fool. Got to meet Rob this lunchtime to give him my wii - take good care of it he will. I am glad it is going to a place ... read more

One week to go before Lorraine and I head home to see the folks. One more week of work for the next year!!! Schools out for summer, schools out for-ever!!! Everything is hectic at the minute it's like moving house although there's nowhere to move your stuff to. The Devil makes play for idle hands I suppose. Looking forward to the day we get to leave it all behind for a while and relax. We are driving up to Stranraer on Friday, so as to get the car over and as much personal stuff as we can fit into her. The health of the car is questionable so it's fingers crossed that she makes it all the way. We are going to be driving through the night for the morning ferry. Yee-ha. From what I remember ... read more

I don't want to teach anymore. Not like this. Not in public schools. Not where the students don't want to learn, but there's tons of pressure on the teacher to make them learn. Not where I work SO LONG AND HARD to plan lessons and carry them out, and it's all for NOTHING. I don't want to teach anymore. I feel envious of people who have other jobs. Why don't I change careers? Because as a teacher, I get loads of time off and then I can travel. Most other careers in the United States give ten vacation days per year. TEN! As a teacher, I get a week here and there throughout the year, and then at least six weeks in the summer. It's more freedom. I have to travel. It's my air, my oxygen, ... read more

From Luton to St. Albans.... With my MP3 player on shuffle, I walk from school to Leagrave Station to take the train home. Alison Krauss's Down to the River to Pray comes on and my mind drifts back to my home in Tennessee. I see Nickajack Dam and the beautiful, green Sequatchie Valley surrounded by the Appalachian Mountains. I taste my stepmom's famous fried chicken, creamed potatoes, sweet tea, beans, and cornbread. I see farms, over whose soil slaves used to bend in the hot sun, picking cotton, singing hymns, somehow finding joy in that miserable life. I hear the music of a soft, friendly southern accent. I've slowly developed a new-found patriotism. I've always loved my country, and I've always loved being a southerner. But now, I feel downright PROUD of my homeland and grateful ... read more

My Hungarian roommate, Krisztina, invited me to go out to eat with some friends of hers. She, Gyorgyi, and I are wandering around St. Albans trying to find the restaurant. They can't remember the name of the place or where it is. This could be a long night, I think. "Hey, Alicia," Krisztina says. "There's the gym I'm a member of. Fitness First." Ah, good, at least now I know where a gym is. I miss working out. We walk some more with our arms crossed, trying to stay warm as the night gets cooler. We go into a shopping centre area and look at some of the restaurants. "I'll know it when I see it," Georgie says, as if that narrows it down. Anyway, we finally find the place. It's a Moroccan place, intricately decorated ... read more