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Our Miss Read blog A Village Blog is now open for business!

Fabulous Offer on My Usborne Website Has Been Extended

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Among my new income streams, I think the most exciting is probably Usborne Books - they're so lovely and the fun of goal setting and achieving is a buzz!
I use the books for school - H has just finished reading 'Minna's Quest' about a girl and a horse, in Roman times, and Boo has just read Geraldine McCraughrean's 'Tamburlaine's Elephants' - a novel of 14th Century India. And we've also started on the Internet Linked 'Introduction to Art', which is absolutely brilliant.
If you like the idea of working for yourself, hours to suit, taking little ones along with you, using the tools of your trade for learning in your own home, or otherwise adapting your work at home life to suit your family, instead of the other way around - join our winning team!
There's a great offer on joining in June, and it's been extended - provided your Organiser Agreement reaches Head Office by 2nd July, you can still qualify for 12 free phonics books, if you book two events by 9th July - that's ages! Loads of time to get together a couple of small groups to help you get started.
I'd love to help you take the first steps, and I know I have great back up, to help you achieve your goals.

In safe hands

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I give you, my incredibly talented niece ... she calls me aunt/sister ... our family is kind of generationally challenged. I'm toying with the idea of using 'coz' in the Shakespearian sense ... ie 'related to me in a kind of random way, which you wouldn't quite get'.


So. My 'coz' - very talented photographer, with obviously uber talented models - my daughter, and her pet bantam Sophie's offspring!




We're Back!

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Been away for a week, by the seaside, doing seaside things, having some time out and dreaming dreams.
Life may be about to change :D

And the Winner is .........

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I'm so sorry, we had kind of a frantic day yesterday, and the drawing has been put back by twenty four hours!

However, without further ado ...

Let's write everyone's name on a paper



put them in a basin



hold it up high, no peeking



and the winner is ....................



so, Jenny, can you send me your address, and we'll post it!

Let me not to the marriage of true minds, admit impediment...

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What I think is, that I have a fear of being ... well ... normal. There. I said it.
I have a deeply conventional, conservative nature. Yet somehow, someone, somewhere planted a seed that made me think being like everyone – or actually even like anyone – else, was tacky, less than was expected of me, insufficient. OK, that sounds like my father speaking, so it was probably him.
I am my mother’s Girlguide Leader, Member of Pony Club Parents’ Committee, lover of afternoon tea, clean floors and red geraniums. I am my father’s rebel, world changer, chapel goer, non conformist, ranter, raver and putter of the world to rights, lover of spices, wild flowers, and anything remotely connected with a horse.
My feet don’t match, you know. I have one square, level, spade of a foot, like my fathers’ were, and one pointy vaguely disfigured, tortured foot, like my mothers’ were. An allegory for my life, my feet are.
My mother in me is now prepared to send the girls to school, to pitch in to help this family survive the tough times, to acknowledge that while the material things in life are not the be all and end all, that our treasure should be stored in heaven, but that nevertheless, survival is kind of key, and around here, with the gazillion volunteer hours I donate, and homeschooling, and the farm, I am out of hours to allocate to gainful employment.
My father in me, rages against this slow capitulation, wants to homeschool in splendid isolation, at odds with the world, and yet in possession of all that is really good and true, in a stolen seascape at dawn, a wild ride across a moor, a garden to feed the poor, and nurture the damaged and unloved, and trusting to God and all His angels to feed and house us, despite the hike in rent.

What will happen, as it did when they were here on this earth, is this:

My heart, and wild soul, my father in me, will fight this battle for years yet, convinced he leads, convinced we follow, adrift on a combative ocean of life’s challenges, fighting the wind and the rain, tired and dry eyed with a firm belief in the impossible.
Meanwhile, my mind, and earthly body, my mother in me, will have paid the school fees, replaced the car, sorted out the garden, and have laid tea, with lemon not milk, and very small scones, and fruitloaf, awaiting the return of the wanderer.
And at the moment when they sit down together, close to the fire, by a sleeping dog, and the rebel turns, onto an overworked hip which compensates for a damaged back, and raises woeful eyebrows at the keeper of the family hearth – it will all begin to make sense.
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