Let’s communicate

Let’s communicate

I looove words. My Wombats roll their eyes when I get excited over discovering the etymology of a particular word. I call them “boxer shorts” moments. That refers to the time when I realised why boxer shorts were so called. (I don’t follow boxing – that’s probably why...
Crocodile, crocodile

Crocodile, crocodile

“Do you like my butterfly?” I asked my junior Music class this week. Lying on the floor, in the middle of the circle, was a 1.2 metre soft, stuffed crocodile with a rather fetching grin. One of my latest op shop acquisitions. I hadn’t planned to start the class this...
At the Airport

At the Airport

All my reflections so far this year have been drawn from my own Dancing Wombat world. There’s never a dull moment there! But every week, I also have two classes of delightful primary school students who demand my attention. One young man – I’ll call him Dougal – had...
Scripts away!

Scripts away!

Today was the big day for my senior class who’ been rehearsing the Explorers play. NO scripts! Except my own, of course. And one for my assistant. The students clustered around me as we walked from the playground to the hall. “We’re not using our...