what kind of world do we live in?

I got into a bit of trouble at work today and it’s made me really sad. On the one hand, I’m upset because I feel like I’ve let myself down in some way, and on the other hand, I’m even more sad that I got my hand slapped for something so innocent.

I have an Instagram account that I show all my art work on and it’s lots of portraits and landscapes. I’d quite innocently let some of my students know my account details.

I find it horrible that we’re not to do this because of safeguarding. Of course, I blocked those students and changed my account name when I was told it was an issue, but that is sad that we have to worry about something like this.

There must be some terrible people out there for us to have all come to this point. I was totally naive and I think I don’t always appreciate what horrible things go on out there in the world… and I’m glad I don’t to tell you the truth.

Much Love

Rachel xx

we do so much more than teach

man standing inside room
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We wipe away their tears

When they have got themselves worked up,

We prod them when they’re feeling way too lazy

To do the work that’ll get them through those tests,

You know, the GCSEs they need but seem to not

Remember that they’re coming up.

We mark their books till 10pm

Then start our emails way before the sun comes up.

Sure we get those long weeks off

But do you really want a try?

It’s National Teacher’s Day so I thought I’d write a little something to tell the haters what it is we actually do.

I feel like a teacher, a mum, a medic and a therapist most days and we all take it on with so much enthusiasm. I see a lot of teacher bashing on social media, but being in school you would see that 99.9% of teachers go above and beyond and want to see all kids succeeding.

So, take a bow teachers. You deserve those bloody long holidays.

Much Love

Rachel xx

the day of the heatwave

The air crackles, thick

With the smell of chargrilled burgers

As children scream, sprinklers

Chasing them around back gardens,

Knowing there’s no school tomorrow,

Just an endless run of days

Each kissed by sun aggressively,

It burns with such ferocious force

That only mad dogs and those Englishmen

Will play on fields no longer green

But scorched an ugly brown

The only respite found is underneath

Those weeping willows, casting shade

As little toes splash in the shallows

Wishing that they could wade deeper in

Escaping heat that quickly eats us whole.

Don’t let a few failures define you

I know it sounds cliche

But get back up,

It might not even be

The third time a charm,

It could be the fourth

Or even the fifth

But however long it takes

The reward is the sweetest.

I love to run. I’m not a talented runner, but I do love to push myself as hard as I can and I love to see just how far I can go. And so it seemed only natural that I gravitated towards the ultra marathon distance, finally making it up to the 100 milers.

I did five of them between 2015 and 2017 and then I hit a bit of a road block. I don’t understand why, but every time I attempted the race, my head just gave up anywhere between 60 and eighty miles.

I had three failed attempts under my belt and a five year dry spell and I really was starting to think that I just didn’t have the ability to do it anymore.

So, I was a little bit hesitant when I entered a hundred miler for the weekend just gone. But, nevertheless, I pulled on my trainers and hit the trail. And I poured my little heart into it.

And you know what? I only went and bloody did it.

So, I just wanted to say that when you’ve failed at something a few times, it never means that it’s over. If you want something bad enough, you can get it. Just keep plodding away and eventually you will get there.

Much Love,

Rachel xx

the night club night

She slides through bodies slick with sweat

A beer in hand and a shot glass waiting on the bar,

She knows the burning drink will curdle with the pills

She swallowed in the hope to drown the week,

The nagging boss and the dishes still piled high at home.

The bass notes shake her bones, her heart

And as the drugs take hold, the lights flash bright,

Lasers scan her body, making her feel guilty,

Ashamed of what she’s plied her body with

And in the toilets, splashing water on her face

She longs for bed, to hide that face

Staring out from a neon mirror, mascara running

Lipstick smeared and a girl vomiting in the filthy stall.

No, she says. It’s time for home, to take off heels

And find some comfort in a better place.

where are you, my friend?

I see your words, blinking

On the computer screen

At this late night hour

When sleep evades and causes

Desperation but

Your words are just enough

To make me smile – no, laugh.

I try to stay away from social media as much as possible as it has the tendency to bring out all the worst qualities in me. It piques my jealousy and my anger and in normal life that is just not me.

However, when I do jump on there and have a little rifle though the comments sections, I do occasionally find a comment that has the ability to make me snort so that my coffee almost comes out of my nose.

And when I come across these comments, I can’t help but wonder who these people are that wrote such great material. And where do they live? And can they be friends with me?

After the Easter address this picture was posted and Twitter and the person who put it up just wrote ‘this only happens when a Pope is in distress’. I found it hilarious. That might say more about me than the person who wrote it.

Much Love

Rachel xx

so this is christmas….

christmas tree with baubles
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And what have you done,

Another year over

And a new one just begun.

Sorry for a bit of plagiarism there, but I kind of feel that those lines sum up the feelings there are at this time of year. I have had some epic years and some that have been absolute shit shows; but now is always the time to relect.

And I don’t know about everyone else, but it makes me feel really emotional.

There are normally lots of recaps of the year on TV too and you can’t help but remember that moment in time through rose tinted glasses. In England we have had the football, Emma in the tennis and the Olympics. We also had the final of Strictly Come Dancing last night and that ended in many tears.

However your year has panned out there will be some amazing things that have happened. You’ve probably forgotten about them because it’s so much easier to cling onto the bad bits. Spend some time remembering those good bits and use them to stay hopeful.

Much Love

Rachel xx

the haunted house

photo of grey colored house during daytime
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The garden calls me from the world I know,

Grave stones poking through the grass

Like rotten teeth in swollen gums, I wonder

What lies below, what else could push their way

Upwards, to grab at ankles as I pass.

Once at the door we’re always greeted by

A man unusually tall, stooping and groaning

Holding candles sagging in the night.

Pictures change to gruesome sights, as we walk

Towards the cars that drift through halls

Like silent hands that hold us safe.

We swoop through ballroom scenes with ghostly girls

Held in arms of ghoulish men and someone sat

At organ keys, playing something tabgo-like.

And into basements we will travel, where the dead

Were buried (maybe not quite dead when trapped

Inside the nailed up coffin box. Now they play

With people as the venture in, jigging to

A song we cannot hear with earthly ears.

And when the journey ends we jump back on

To terra firma with the help of girls

Dressed in high neck shirts and full length skirts,

Out into a bright lit day, so at odds

With the darkness we have come to know and love,

Blinking in a gift shop full of branded mugs

And T-shirts printed with the living dead.

We part with too much hard earned cash before

We head off to Space Mountain for

Another ride, another thrill, another world

To make us scream with pure delight.

they’re just so flipping deep

How is it that an eleven year old

Can make you stop within your tracks

With something so profound

Your breath, it catches in your chest?

They somehow know the words to fill

An awkward silence, or just how

To accurately put love into few words,

Like they’ve boiled it down

Until the essence is rolling off their tongues.

Incredible really, that a child so young

Can understand the things us grownups

Grapple with so hard, struggling to voice

The turbulence of this life…