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Tuesday, March 02, 2004

Don't panic!

Sorry kids, bit of an interruption to Dear Witho, which I was going to warn you about on Monday when I was getting ready to drive down to Taunton with the Big Fella, but I was too busy...erm... getting ready to drive down to Taunton with the Big Fella.

Firstly, why was I driving down to Taunton, I hear you ask. Well, if you'd been paying attention, dear reader, you'd know that BF had an interview at a school there today. And me being a lady of leisure, I decided to accompany him down there for moral support (and, as it turned out, shopping!). So we drove down Monday night and stayed in a B&B a short walk from the school, ready for BF's interview today.

I was planning on seeking out an internet cafe so that I could have posted as normal, but that pesky hinterweb was nowhere to be found! So you see, Billy and FROG, it wasn't my fault!

(Cue: Billy scribbles: "must try harder" in Witho's unemployed blogger school report)

Meanwhile, Witho's toes have been spotted in a strange bed! To whit, the bed in the B&B mentioned above - 'twas a four poster, don't you know?

Dipstickerie report

Picture the scene.
It's Witho's brother's birthday on 3 March. Witho wanders around Taunton on 2 March, thinking: "Damn! I need to post my brother's card, but I don't have his address on me. I can remember the number and the road name, but not the post code. If only I could find an internet cafe, I could find out the postcode (and, of course, post to the blog at the same time - woo-hoo!)."

Witho fails to find an internet cafe, and wanders despondently around the town, seeking solace via the magic of retail therapy - in particular, the trying on of pink stilettoes.

Later, whilst Witho is having lunch, she receives a telephone call from none other than the Big Fella, claiming that his interview has finished (it went very well...more later...). BF arrives at the restaurant and Witho tells her tale of woe vis-a-vis the postcode/lack of interweb issue. The Big Fella suggests that Witho send a text message to her sister-in-law (being Witho's brother's wife who lives in the same house as her brother, as luck would have it!) asking for the postcode.

Witho starts typing the text message as they walk back to where the car is parked. Then a thought strikes la Witho. It is only now that she realises that she has the entire address scribbled in her diary (which is in her bag) and thus could have sent the card first thing in the morning....

Witho, you dipstick!

BF news in full

So, BF had his interview. A very nice (posh) school, with miniscule class sizes compared to his current school - and being privately funded, it has a beautiful building, extensive grounds, excellent facilities etc etc... He met the head, two deputies (including his old Latin teacher) and various other bods, and taught a lesson observed by the head and the deputy as part of the day's activities. He was pleased with how it went, and felt that he'd done his best, so we'll see! Fingers (and other appendages) crossed!



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