Why should I let the toad work squat on my life?
Why can’t I use my wit as a pitchfork and drive the brute off?
Philip Larkin 1922 – 1985
Ah work – takes all our precious energy yeh? and of course, most importantly, it pays the bills and with two horses the bill pit is bottomless. The work life balance is tricky… work pays for horses but leaves little time (or energy) to ride them and winter is especially hard with the added burden of mucking out, dark nights and endless mud. To help cope with the pressure my horses would go on full livery for six months leaving me with less money but more time to ride. As seasons pass I have been wondering how much energy I have left to compete – I have plans to go up through the levels at British Eventing and take up team chasing. These are activities a lot of people give up as they reach their 50s and are not generally regarded as retirement options. I have always been a late developer so why change the habits of a lifetime?
I have been hatching an escape plan for some years now and in the end it was the nest egg that cracked open…. not completely cooked but I am hungry for freedom and I quite like runny eggs. Today is my last day at work. Lectures start next week and for the first time in 25 years I won’t be stood at the front delivering them. It’s a bit of a relief to be honest… I won’t ever again have to try and explain the concept of probability or the Kolmorgorov-Smirnoff test. Most of my students are terrified of statistics and any such explanations were met with the expression of that of a dog being shown a card trick. I did my best, however, and most of the time it was good enough. Latterly, I have encountered applause after lectures and students have evaluated lectures as ‘inspiring’ but I have also experienced students falling asleep or rushing out be sick. I have managed to make students laugh and not so long ago won a distinguished teaching award. Not bad for someone who doesn’t have maths O level. At an event organised for staff who had achieved such awards I struck up conversation with a colleague from a science department. Their response to my question asking about the subject they taught was ‘statistics’ and then after a furtive glance around the room they leaned in and said ‘but I haven’t got maths O level’. Seems I wasn’t the only fake in the university afterall. My struggles and successes with the subject of maths will be covered in a later post – but don’t hold your breath.
Student evaluations of my efforts to teach them have been variable. In answer to the questions ‘what is the best thing about the module and what is the worst thing about the module?’ the answer, in both cases, has been ‘The lecturer’. I found this somewhat perplexing until I heard something Graham Norton recalled when trying, unsuccessfully, to get Terry Wogan to rehearse for a show they were both presenting. In response to Norton’s constant pleas for some practice Wogan replied ‘Look, they either like me or they don’t and no amount of rehearsing will make the slightest difference’. So, anyway… I have very quickly found another outlet for my precious energy – one that requires no preparation whatsoever but that also requires a pitchfork… yes. You guessed. Mucking out.
I have to go now as, late as ever, I am left with trying to organise my own leaving do. I have been emphatic about not wanting one – then persuaded by colleagues to have one I backed down and made a couple of suggestions. These plans were hijacked then by a paramedic colleague – who shall remain nameless but who after sticking his oar in (Hore – geddit?) – has discovered, last minute, he is double booked for fiddle playing somewhere else and now can’t make it. So my leaving do is now in limbo. Whilst I was happy to leave without the occasion being marked I am now worried I have a leaving do that no one will attend because they don’t know where it is…. I am now at my wits end – where’s that bloody pitchfork?
Only Joolz and Horses 