Sunday 17 February 2013

Scenes from the Classroom #1

You'll know (I have mentioned it) that I have birdfeeders hanging outside my classroom window. These have provided endless entertainment for me in the past month or so. However, this character has also made an appearance.

You see him here, raking out seed from the massive hole he has chewed in the side of my birdfeeder.

So, I bought a couple of new birdfeeders. They were cheap and screw into a plastic bottle; I anticipate they will not have survived half term. I hung them on flimsy branches to deter my furry rabies-spreader. He came out to take a look, trying to inch his way down the smooth branch and chew through the handle holding the bottle up, but either his balance or the tree branch was lacking and he soon gave up. Unfortunately the base was too small for the goldfinches and chaffinches, so I wedged one in the nook of a tree branch, and sure enough, he was back.

It was the last day of term. My year 10 class were sitting in silence, completing an assessment (they may well be my favourite GCSE class of all time; if I fail to acquire a new job for September it will really be a good thing because it will mean I can continue to teach them). The squirrel arrived at the new birdfeeder, a little napkin tied around his neck, carrying a miniature cruet.

I sidled over to the window as nonchalently as possible. The class maintained their workrate. I hastily threw the window open, which has in the past been enough to get rid of him, but he did not budge. I fetched a piece of paper, screwed it up and threw it at him. It missed. He stayed put. By this point, lovely or not, the class were staring from me to him with incredulity, wondering what would happen next.

J: Do you want me to go out there and chase him for you, Miss?
Me: Nono, you just carry, 20 minutes left....I just need something long that I can prod him with....wait
(I retrieve a ski trip crutch from behind my desk and approach the open window)
Me: Ha! Take that! (I wave the crutch out of the window. It does not reach the squirrel who looks at it, and carries on eating.)
Me: Ohhhh! GO! AWAY! (More frantic waving. The crutch smacks the underside of the cardbaord tray of mealworms that the Y10 boy with the long arms filled for me the week before. Mealworms fly all over the place. The squirrel watches, enjoying the dinner show. Then he slowly moseys off the rob some other birdfeeder.)
Jk: You're not very good at that, are you Miss?

King of the understatement there. 

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