Ofsted, bulb-planting and Schrödinger's cat

I'm a bit flustered this week.  It's all down to bulb planting combined with the scariest five letters in education.  Oh, hang on, no, I mean six letters.  See - that's what I mean by being flustered.

Yes, this week there are rumours abounding that Ofsted are on their way to our beloved pre-school.  I'm not really sure where I stand on Ofsted.  It's very noble that an organisation is trying to ensure high standards in our school system, but they do seem to have a reputation and fear-inducing quality unequalled since the Spanish Inquisition. In fact, they might be scarier than the Spanish Inquisition as they haven't even had a Monty Python sketch to lighten their image.

So anyway, we're overdue an inspection, and now, on the pre-school grapevine we hear they're in the area. This means that my weekly gardening club may well coincide with their visit.

This shouldn't matter.  The gardening club is going well.  I have an action packed session lined up.  I plan to plant a dual species fruit tree in the garden with some of the children, as well as having them create layered bulb pots with tulips, daffodils and crocus.

But, I am slightly nervous about the Hawthorne effect... or is it the Heisenberg uncertainty principle... or something to do with Schrödinger's cat?  I'm not sure which as I gave up physics in the third year and, hard as I tried to concentrate, Melvyn Bragg's In Our Time episode on quantum theory just gave me an almighty headache. But anyway, it's the one where the act of observing a phenomenon changes it, or as I like to put it, the certainty that someone looking over my shoulder will mean I cock things up - big time.

I'm not really sure how it will go wrong, but when I shut my eyes, I have visions of a Frank Spencer-style escapade which tends to end with a handbag full of compost, skid-inducing bulbs all over the floor and an Ofsted inspector falling head first into the tree planting hole.

Come to think of it, the weather is looking a bit dodgy.  And actually, my throat has been feeling a little scratchy.  In fact, it could be swine flu.  Probably, just to be on the safe side, we maybe, you know, ought to, well... cancel gardening club for a week.  Or two.

Comments

[Tim]

This is no time of year to be out in the garden with an Ofsted inspector... In fact, there's probably never a time of year when you should be out in the garden with an Ofsted inspector. Unless they're coming to my school next week, in which case... keep them out there for as long as possible. Especially it it's raining.

[Dawn]

Tim I shall lock them in the shed!

[Jo]

It's amazing how those six letters OFSTED can put the fear of God into people, especially teachers. I remember the last time they visited our school, it was the end of the school year, reports were given out on the last day of school, and the kids didn't know which classes they were going into the following year, all because the inspectors had shown up the week before and 'normal' school routine was put on hold.

[A Modern Mother]

We're in an Ofsted craze too ... that is all the head is thinking about.

And thanks for reminding me to put in my bulbs!

[Dawn/LittleGreenFingers]

Jo - It's nuts isn't it. Luckily at pre-school they're only in for two mornings but even then I'm sure it will disrupt 'normal service'.

Susanna - I aim to serve!

[JamesA-S]

You may be better versed in the theory of Hummdingers cat.
The theorem, you will remember inspired the saying "I have a hummdinger of a hangover this morning".

It iis supposed to nvolve a fearsome mixture of Baileys Irish Cream, Madeira, Babycham and Whiskas (Heart and Lung flavour). Nobody can quite remember....

[Sue]

Sorry if this isn't a good place to post this but I couldn't find a contact email.

Just wondered if you would consider a link to my website The School Vegetable Patch in your list of children's gardening links.

If so it is http://theschoolvegetablepatch.schools.officelive.com/default.aspx