At what price , education ?

New blazers hang smartly upon the wardrobe door, inside you’ll find shirts so white and crisp and there’s more,

Black trousers with creases so precise and so sharp, ties that once mastered, will make the wearer look smart.

New socks neatly tucked one into another, shoes buffed to perfection, all thanks to mother.

P.E bags kitted out for every sport within reason, rugby, football, athletics even the cricket season.

Pencil case bursting with writing and artistic supplies.

 Mathematical equipment for geometry, algebra and  Pi.

Science overall and apron packed in new pristine rucksack,

 To be placed in a locker and homework bought back.

All labelled by mum with much love and great care,

 With hope at the end of term, it will all still be there.

So here’s to your first day, look after your things

Be good, do your best and enjoy everything

And if you’re tempted at all to be careless with your stuff,

Just recall how much it all cost us,

Good gracious, HOW MUCH?!

 

The girl with a child in her eyes .....

Once upon a time I only knew her as the singer my granddad ( who wasn't a big fan as you'll probably be able to tell by the following ) referred to as Kate " bloody" bush , so much so that for years  I was convinced that was her actual full name . 

Shewas the lady with the slightly scary staring eyes as she sang and danced about in a somewhat overdramatic manner in her videos or during TV performances .

But now as I sit and watch all the tribute programmes to her as her much awaited 2014 concerts approach showtime and having let myself over the years fall in love with much of the music I thought was going to be awful due to my early years influencing by my elders I realise here is a woman I completely identify with much more than I thought.

Kates stage persona is outrageous, outgoing,amazing and so dramatic but in person she's a quiet,soft spoken woman who likes to keep herself to herself and those close to her .

And to a certain extent that is the way I am .

That person talking loudly about vibrators being about as quiet as a pneumatic drill in front of strangers and sending the speculumn shooting across the couch during a smear test with my amazing pelvic floor muscles is the same one who absolutely cacked her pants about reading a poem at a family members wedding.

The writer who gives good argument in her column is the same one who stutters and struggles to string a sentence together in real life conversation making her sound anything other than articulate.

And the person who can be up first on the dance floor or standing in front of others djing and shaking what her mother gave her whilst wearing outfits that might not be everyone's cup of tea but the thought of actually being someone performing be it singing or acting on a stage would cause a major nervous breakdown .

They are all part of multiple cover versions of  myself shielding the original that only those special in my life get to meet , the one that isn't miss dee vinyl , the girl from the neck down , the one who conceals her gaze with big sunglasses so that no-one can look into her eyes and see deep into her soul , to who she really is .

But maybe one day she'll let every little insecurity about herself that stops her taking centre stage in her own life drop and my what a comeback that'll be.