Post by Steve Hopwood on May 19, 2007 11:00:32 GMT
Kate was 16 recently; she loved Vicky's suggestion that selling scrap-metal is one of the activities she is now entitled to follow and puts it on birthday cards to all her friends.
One of them bought Kate a condom for her birthday. Having a lively imagination, Kate immediately thought of a use for it. She did not want her mum to find it and launch an inquisition, so she hid the condom in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag- at the bottom of the wardrobe.
Which mum cleaned the following day, whilst Kate was in school and so found the condom in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag-in-a-bag- at the bottom of the wardrobe. You can imagine the thoughts going through her mind at this point.
When kate arrived home she was forced to fess up to the proposed use for this condom. She had researched the properties of the material and discovered that it stretches hugely when boiled for 10 minutes or so. It was going to become a slide down the stairs at the next birthday party coming up soon.
Not the sort of thing a 16 year old wants to tell her mum. ;D ;D ;D
Vicky and one of her friends, Sarah, have a mutual friend whose 16th came up recently. This young man wanted the girls to club together to buy him a bottle of Whisky.
Being reluctant to be responsible for causing alcohol poisoning, they bought him a pack of Bob The Builder ham instead. ;D
16th birthdays are always the best. I like to buy my friends silly things.
For two of my friends I got them a pregnancy test...they were only 2 for £7 BARGAIN For my next friend I got her a pack of 10 constipation relief pills. For another I got a bikini wax with 4 exciting shapes And for another I got nothing because she deserved nothing but anyway lol!
They got me back when it came to my birthday...I received a pack of 12 tena for men, some cat food, some baby milk (the closest i'll get to breast milk apparently) and some condoms.
Post by AnotherPianist on May 21, 2007 21:24:48 GMT
Well if you've got them spare Ben it's obvious what you need to do: make one of those slides down the stairs, immediately .
A friend was bought a pole (complete with instruction video) for her 21st birthday by a group of her friends so that she could learn to pole dance . I did ask if she was concerned what they thought of her ;D.
My daughter nagged her cello teacher to let her join the string orchestra after the Easter holidays instead of waiting until the new school year in September. I was a bit worried that this made for a really heavy Wednesday afternoon as (after three hours school in the morning) she now has in the afternoon: 1 hour orchestra 1 hour theory/aural 30 minutes cello lesson 30 minutes trombone lesson
Yesterday she said to me "Do you realise that I now play the cello for an hour and a half every Wednesday?" I (in my role of worried mother) asked her if she was finding it a bit much. Her reply: "No but there is a problem. I thought an hour and a half would be enough but it's not. It still goes too fast."
Post by Steve Hopwood on Mar 22, 2008 18:13:23 GMT
Time to resurrect this thread, so:
Last week I tossed Antonia. Ant (previously of Awww fame) had to decide about a piece last week and could not make up her mind, so she asked, "Could we toss a coin."
I really ought to know better by now. I replied, "Sorry, I haven't got one. Let's toss a child instead - begins with 'c', after all. You are the only child around, so let's toss you. Land on your back and we choose this, on your front, we choose that."
"Ok", she replied.
"No, dear. I was playing. I don't really toss children. Go and ask your dad for a coin."
"My dad tosses me all the time."
"Onto the big sofa over there," she said, pointing to a sofa that would dwarf a triple-bed.
"Ahhhh. I see."
For the record, I tossed her onto the sofa. She did a little twirl in mid-air, clearly a well practised routine, and landed on her front, so it was that choice.
Gareth and I have a great time together. He comes for piano lessons, grade 6 theory, piano accompaniment for his trumpet pieces and insane conversation. Our lessons are long, happy and open-ended affairs.
Truly insane conversations. His mum simply shakes her head in despair when she hears us.
He has a new girlfriend, Sarah. Last Saturday, Gareth wanted to record a piano piece he had composed, so he could use it as the backing to a computer animation he had made. I picked him up on my way home after a trip out, to bring him home and do the recording. Sarah came along.
I hadn't met Sarah before and didn't want to frighten her, so I kept the conversation reasonably sane, as did Gareth. As Sarah started to relax, Gareth and I began to allow our imaginations to roam a little wider. Mostly, we just told her about some of the conversations we had enjoyed in the past, so we were highly restrained by our standards.
Gareth told me this bit during he lesson on Weds. Over tea that afternoon, his mum had asked Sarah, "Ok. You have seen Gareth and Steve in action. On a scale of 0-10, how insane did you find them?"
Post by Steve Hopwood on Mar 30, 2008 22:55:05 GMT
My Gainsborough round has extended to Sunday afternoons. Lots of siblings of existing pupils reached lesson-taking age and several other kids belonging to friends' parents wanted lessons. These lessons taking place at the kids' homes proved an added incentive to engaging me as the teacher.
Teaching kids in their own homes has a variety of advantages: my wife gets rid of me for a few hours; I experience the instrument the kids have to practise on and can vary my expectations accordingly; when the instrument is hopeless, I can say, "Either get a decent instrument of I will stop coming" to hugely beneficial effect ;D; I get to meet the family pets; there is no denying the kids are even more relaxed at home than they are when they come to me.
The previous is just pleasant background, in keeping with the general tenor of this thread. The point is this:
Aged 18, 15, 12 and 8 respectively, I teach Imo, Alice, Isy and Ant (Awwww) from the same family on Friday. I promised Imo a copy of some software and decided to drop it off this afternoon (Sunday) whilst I was in their village, teaching other victims. This family live in a large house with big gardens and it was a lovely afternoon, so they were out in the garden, apart from Alice (in the kitchen) and Imo, who was out.
The main door to the house opens into the kitchen, so I walked straight in as I am expected to do. The following events happened within the following 15 seconds or so.
Alice coolly said, "Hi".
Ike, the British Bulldog hurtled from the garden and hurled himself at me in an extacy of joy, knocking me off balance. Ant and Isy appeared, yelled, "Ehup Steve" and came for their customary hug, which completed the process of unballancing me and we all ended up in a heap on the floor.
Whilst we were trying to sort ourselves out, dad appeared in the doorway and asked if I wanted a cup of tea.
Closely followed by mum, who wanted to know if I needed a sandwich for lunch.
In the midst of all this, one of the rescue kittens who has developed the habit of jumping on the back Ike and settling down for a nap\ride had done precisely this.
I always love my job. Sometimes, I really love it.
Post by Steve Hopwood on Mar 31, 2008 22:53:58 GMT
I gave my first lesson to a blindfolded pupil tonight.
Helen is 16. She is a fantastic Harpist. In terms of the much vaunted General Musicianship, she is fantastic; she succeeds at everything she tries, including playing the piano very well with zero practise.
Mostly, Helen's piano lessons consist of her sight-reading through the latest piece I had forlornly hoped she might actually practise. Tonight was different.
A few weeks ago, at Helen's insistance we had flogged through the Niemann piece whose title now escapes me but that every piano teacher in the land must have at least 10 pupils who wanted to try it.
Tonight she announced, "I can play it blindfold." "Yeah, right. Of course you can" more or less summed up my reaction.
Helen hunted through a pile of clean washing and came up with a shirt that she insisted I tie around her head to block out her sight. A few seconds finding the starting blocks and she was off.
Damn the child. I can't play this blasted piece whilst looking at it.
19 year old Alex usually comes here on Thursday morning for a grade 7 theory lesson. She phoned a few minutes ago to put the session off until tomorrow, as she needs to take her car in to have the fog light drained of water.
That is what Alex has to do. This is what she wants to do:
"I thought it would be nice to put some fish in it."
Doing theory in French with my daughter turns out to have its uses after all.
Almost from my first oboe lesson my oboe teacher has talked about "sensitive notes." I have been puzzling for four years as to why some notes should be more sensitive than others and why they never seem to be the same from one week to the next. Reading my daughter's notes it turns out that this is the French term for the "leading note" ;D