​Bricks and the Three Little Pigs

A very common building material, in fact, so common that it’s possible to ignore, to the point where it can be almost accepted, without question, that houses have always been built of bricks.

But, just for a moment, think about the story of the Three Little Pigs. What if that story is as much a historical anecdote, looking at human existence through the frailty of early building as safe places? From early shelters, maybe even straw or plant-based bedding, which was a material used in bedding through to relatively recent times, through wattle and daub dwellings, woven wooden material as a basis for holding some kind of mud mix, with roofing made of straw or reed, or some other plant material, eg peat, depending on what was available.

In fact, much of housing history is based on what materials are available locally. Humans have been adept at creating shelters, rudimentary “houses”, as a base from which to construct more secure dwellings, using local timber, mud or stone, and plants.
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It’s true that bricks made of mud, adobe, have been made in many parts of the world for several thousand years. These dried mud bricks, simply shaped mud rectangles left in the hot sun to dry, are features of buildings in many parts of Africa. 

These buildings are susceptible to wet weather, so need large overhangs of the roof to take water away from the walls, or, in the case of the Malian buildings, regular recoating with mud.

This was also a feature of much early vernacular housing in other parts of the world, where materials were simply accessed from whatever was available. Wattle and daub was a housing feature from probably Bronze/Iron Age times through to the 13th century, then refined a little in the 15/16th centuries in finer dwellings, becoming lath and plaster in later dwellings.
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Chalk was burnt to become lime, which in turn, with water mixed, became a standard “paint” that also helped to repel insects. Lime could also be used as an alternative to cement and was used from Prehistoric times for this. Lime, organic materials, plus available rocks, could be used to make solid walls, often known as cob, cobb or clom walls. Variations on the theme depended on local materials.

Butser Ancient Farm, wattle and daub, left and Hangleton, Flint (cobb) Weald and Downland, right.
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​The Romans were very adept at brick making, with their bricks being shaped and fired in kilns, which altered the properties of the bricks, so that they could be used in wetter climes. Of course, they also used the technique for pipes, crockery and kitchen ware.

Then they left, and seemingly, with them went the technology of brick making, although there are many areas of the country that have significant clay deposits. Some Romano-Britons may have used buildings left behind, but, for many, their wattle and daub houses were possibly not too dissimilar from earlier people. They might be circular or rectangular, with a central hearth fireplace and smoke passing through the thatch roof. Saxons, Vikings, low status Normans would probably feel comfortable in each other’s houses. Small or large the principle might be similar, a general hall, with the fire hearth, with areas off for sleeping or specific work areas. In fact, this idea persisted even into periods that ended with the Tudors.

In the 12th century, in Europe there was a renaissance of brick making, that gradually worked its way to Britain, with the earliest use of brick in Britain being 1190 in Coggeshall abbey in Essex. Probably from about 1400 they were becoming more common, but in a relatively narrow area along the Thames, imported from Flanders with Britain exporting wool. This gave rise to some of the significant buildings along the Thames, with Hampton Court (1514) being one of the most recognisable.

Slowly, artisan brick makers were brought to Britain to make use of local clay seams, probably for local gentry.
With many vernacular houses being made of wattle and daub, they were something of a fire hazard. Sometimes kitchen/cooking areas were built apart from the house, so that, in the event of a cooking fire, the house wouldn’t be destroyed.

The other issue with an open-hearth fire was the build-up of smoke inside the house, sitting as a haze, sometimes not far above head height. The method that was developed to address the issue was the smoke bay. This was essentially a wattle and daub channel to funnel the smoke through a narrow part of the building to a smoke hole in place of a chimney. It might have had a stone wall behind, or an iron plate to avoid direct contact with the wattle and daub.
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In 1666, the fire of London resulted in an edict that fires should have a chimney flue and where possible, houses should be made of brick, which was becoming more common. Houses that had originally been built as hall houses could be remodelled with the addition of a fireplace and chimney.

Both Bayleaf, left, and Walderton, right, had chimneys built in the 1500s, well after their original construction.

​Many timber framed houses survive today behind various facing materials. In Georgian times, it wasn’t uncommon for houses to have a “face lift”, with a Georgian brick façade covering the original timber frame. Sometimes they had wooden cladding nailed to the supporting timbers.

The introduction of the chimney flue enabled internal remodelling, with upper spaces able to be incorporated into living space, often with rooms having their own fireplace. Chimneys allowed separate internal cooking spaces, smoke holes for drying meats, bread ovens to be incorporated into chimney stacks.

Chimneys changed use of space, cooking and, inevitably improved health, as people were not breathing fire fumes, directly or indirectly by smoke seepage.

A thatched roof might be replaced by terra cotta tiles, slate or stone, to make them safer from stray sparks.

It’s worth considering “home improvement” as a feature of wealth. Fine houses were the domain of the better off. If you consider the householder of Bayleaf, which was rented with 100 acres, there would have been a need for general labour. It’s feasible that the labourer might have lived in a house similar to Hangleton, but the use of his labour would have been his means of survival. At one point, the owner of Bayleaf also had children from another part of the family in the household, as minor servants.
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So the little pig in the house of bricks, welcoming his siblings into his household, might well have been simply taking advantage of their potential for labour… 

A visit to the Weald and Downland Museum allows you to explore different parts of this. 
You can do 3D tours of some of the houses, linking to this area of the website. Click on the link.
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3D Virtual Tours at The Weald & Downland Living Museum 

During my early teaching career, I took my class in two halves to the local churchyard to read the opening part of Dickens’ Great Expectations, where Pip meets Magwich. The impact of sharing story in a specific place fired my imagination from that point.

One of my retirement opportunities has been getting involved in the Weald and Downland Open Air Museum, near Chichester, West Sussex. Celebrating its 50th anniversary last September, the collection of rescued and reconstructed “artisan” houses has grown significantly, as Lucy Hockley, the Cultural Engagement Manager, recently said to volunteers, “Covering 1000 years of history. These have been added to by archaeological reconstructions, such as the Saxon House.

The houses, in themselves, are products of their time and place, with locally available materials being used, often straight from the woodland or, later, the clay pit. They offer unique insights into life as it would have been lived during the earlier part of their history, having been interpreted and furnished in the style appropriate to the time. Furniture was made for many by the museum carpentry expert, Roger Champion, based on furniture in other museums or collections.

Gardens are created to the period and using the plants of that time.

Wills, probate records, letters, census, parish registers, rental contracts and other documents can be explored to find out some of the families who lived in specific houses, especially if they stayed for some time, or maybe held local office, such as bailiff or constable. Yeoman families are likely to have more records than, say, journeymen labourers or other lower status roles, like shoemender. So we know about the Wells, Clare and Tindall families, but not those in a lower status.

Artefacts have been collected and collated into the museum store, so they represent part of the historical record. In addition, the museum is very lucky to have connections with a range of historical “archaeologists”, such as Ruth Goodman, Ronald Hutton and Ian Mortimer, all of whom recently gave online talks to members and volunteers, on heating and cooking with wood to coal, festivals through the year and the Regency Period respectively. They add to the narrative that can be shared with visitors.
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All of these combine to attempt to bring history to life, to show that history is as much about ordinary families and their lives as the rich and powerful, whose stories are often told to the exclusion of the majority of the population.

​One thing that I would like to collate for the museum is a collection of historical fiction sources, using the collective expertise of Twitter. If there are books that you have used, especially read with children to link with historical periods, please append them into the reply box. I would be particularly interested in highly descriptive, short passages that might be read to children while they are actually within the houses, to link narrative with the evocative visuals and physical evidence.
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There is regular evidence on Twitter of the wealth of literary expertise and experience. Every offering will be very much welcomed, with our thanks.

For the past three months, probably the majority of children have been effectively doing homework, having been required to stay at home during the lockdown. There have been exceptions, for key worker and different groups of vulnerable children.

Homework, at the best of times, is a strange beast in the education system, in that it is mandated, but can result in very mixed outcomes. Activities that are set by the school are required to be accommodated during the child’s time at home.

For some, this might mean a clash between homework and chosen interests. For others the challenge of the work or possibly the challenge of working in the home, competition for space and available technology might impact. Certainly, the recent few months have highlighted the significant difference between the haves and the have-nots. Many schools have possibly discovered aspects of their children’s home lives of which they were previously unaware. It has meant, for many, that schools have had to duplicate on-line work with paper-based alternatives.

Has anyone ever really trained children into homework or home learning? Clear tasks and expectations might be set, but what about “how to”? And if a child was to say that they couldn’t, for some reason, what’s the response?

It may be the case that previous assumptions have been very much challenged. Do all children have the time, space and resources to be able to concentrate on a series of challenging tasks that replicate a school day? This also questions the independent learning level of each child; some will be more capable than others of working on their own, especially if they have been dependent on a level of additional adult help in classroom learning.

Home adult engagement levels may vary, too, from the completely focused and hands-on to those possibly unable to offer help within the learning challenge, and potentially the disengaged.

In many ways, the adult engagement has been the potential casualty of pandemic education, the equivalent of the class teacher scanning the class to see those who are in need of extra support, teacher standards 6&5, or Dylan Wiliam’s reflective, reactive teaching.

While the past twelve weeks may have been a kind of holding operation, the outcomes will be very mixed, because it's been a novel situation in everyone's lives, perhaps because everyone has been trying the find the right balance, but also seeking appropriate forms of communication that help children and their parents to accommodate set challenges.

I wonder how the lockdown experience has altered school views on setting homework, which will become a significant factor in any form of recovery dynamic when schools return? Equally, if the pandemic continues and home-learning has to continue into the autumn, how schools will alter any remote approach?

One thing is certain, it can’t be assumed to be “business as usual”, “back to normal”.

​Planning for learning will need to be significantly underpinned by clarity in assessment. It will need to be longer term, with clear purpose and goals and make better use of class time. Setting home activity might need to incorporate that time for children to have a topic to talk about at home, to write draft notes or first draft writing that can be used as the basis for editing and improvement under teacher guidance in class time. Tasks need to be something that the child can do independently.
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Using time differently will affect the overall dynamics of learning, with home adding greater value to class activities. It’s in teacher planning that this dynamic will start.    

​This phrase will dominate the educational discourse for the foreseeable future. It’s in danger of becoming a new political mantra, with any fallout, or negative consequences inevitably then falling onto schools. I’m sorry, that’s cynical, but it’s hard not to be at the moment.

We are in “unprecedented” times, another political catch phrase, coupled with “gaps in education”.

The unprecedented element is that schools are now hybrid versions of previous organisations, some in face to face, for varied amounts of time, some totally remote learning and some a hybrid of the two. This may well continue into the 20-21 academic year. The remote element has highlighted disparities in access to technology, hardware and data, or family challenges in having multiple need of available resources; parents working from home at the same time as children trying to do schoolwork. Now that this is known, schools might be in a better position to address individual needs should the situation arise.

There is obvious concern for “vulnerable learners”, children who are identified daily in a lesson with needs addressed during the lesson. In a remote situation, this lack of access is likely to be a significant missing element. It might have been addressed by identification and a request to come to school to receive misconception coaching and guidance, coupled with expectations of how to use personal time when working remotely, if this continues, or simply absorption into a learning “bubble”. Whatever happens, these children will be in classrooms in the future.

How much “teacher time” and I mean time with a teacher, do vulnerable learners get in a lesson anyway? I’ll just park that question for now, but it may become an issue in the future. Catch up will require, for some, very highly focused teaching, not just time with another adult.
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We’re now four months into an alternative reality, of which nearly a month would have been school holidays, so three months of lessons have been accessed through remote means, online or on paper. Some children will have gaps. Some through not working, some having accessed the work, but may not comprehend, some will have made progress, perhaps in different ways. Each will be “where they are”, so there will be a need for personalised assessment, within restructured planning.

Which bits of teaching are missing?

In an earlier blog, I looked at different “teacher” models, the presenter, the structuralist (becoming organised) and the holistic, each one a stage in personal development. In many ways, the current remote situation puts most teachers into the structuralist mode, simply because the opportunity to reflect and react in lessons is not possible. So learning is ordered and organised and presented appropriately to children but may not be subject to intervention that would include personal guidance and coaching.

By September, there is every possibility that some children will have been out of school for six months. It will be near impossible to try to “fill the gap”, perhaps the best that can be attempted is to “bridge the gap”.
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• Identify those elements of planned learning that are less secure, but are essential, and must be covered to enable future use of this learning.
• Put plans together for the whole of the next academic year, to give an overview of coverage and to be able to assess any continuous gaps. If possible, start to look at the subsequent year of learning, too, in outline.
• Assess time need for topics. Avoid the natural wish to fill the half term with one topic.
• Consider the use of lesson time and the potential for home tasking to include writing up of notes, or first draft writing, enabling lesson time to be more interactive and focused on learning dialogue.
• Primary schools; consider the amount of extended writing across different subject areas and synthesise the foundation with the core, to create quality, rather than quantity of writing. Maybe even all such writing in one exercise book; see link blog.

​Talk learning; let’s consider the power of dialogue to work through this situation. Everyone talking together to make the best possible framework that can hold everything together for the next few years, not just knee-jerk reactive plans that run out of steam in a few months. Let’s include parents in that dialogue, to help them to help their children, both with the necessary learning, but also the social and emotional upheaval that many will have faced and continue to face.
 
It may well take the whole of the 20-21 academic year to really make sense of where we are in education, especially as the coronavirus pandemic is not yet ended. It can’t just be “business as usual”.

The whole system needs to come together, not beaver away in personal spaces, sharing ideas, resources, and support for each other.

​It’s time for inclusive approaches, not isolationism. The latter way will be devastating for what is, at heart, a collegiate profession. 

Pandemic pensees

​Time is tight

Some readers of a certain age will remember Booker T and the MGs and their music. Time is tight (1969) was regularly played in the discos when I was a teenager, old enough to go out.

Time is tight is a useful mantra, though, in education, because everything is time limited, lessons, days, weeks, terms and now, after children have missed several weeks of personal contact with teachers, but having worked remotely for that time, with mixed outcomes, some commentators are looking at the situation and making statements about lost education. We don’t know how long this current situation will last.

Whatever we might wish, children will eventually arrive back in school “where they are”. Some will have kept up. Some will potentially be ahead of where teachers were expecting them to be and some will have less secure progress, with a few significantly concerning. There will be a need to establish where each child is and to determine the best way forward.

It will need an integrated approach and a reflection on learning dynamics, the link between school and home, of catch-up is to have any effect.

In Primary, this is likely to focus on maths and English. It might be possible now, having used remote learning for several weeks, to look at the dynamics of learning, to have a clearer focus on independent home tasking, maybe using home for practice tasks, with classroom looking at the teaching and addressing of evident misconceptions, with specific guidance for individuals.

It might be feasible for reading aloud, as a form of self-check, to be submitted through IT, using a phone, tablet or laptop as the receiver, to be forwarded to the school.

Extended writing could be done at home, following in-lesson stimulus and planning, with drafts coming back for reflective discussion.

In this way, I could see less argument for holiday schooling, as being proposed by some commentators. At this point in the pandemic, we cannot be secure in making any plans for a return to “normal school”.

Time with a known teacher is far more productive than time with a stranger, and I use the word stranger advisedly. Essential DBS checks on any army of volunteers, even retired teachers, could stretch some of the current systems.

Children will have missed a few topics. Deciding whether these are “essential”, given forthcoming plans might determine a few tweaks. If an essential topic is to replace another, by definition less essential topic, a further consideration might be to look at the allocation of time to the topic. Does the essential topic need to take, say, seven weeks of a half term, or could it be covered in five, leaving two weeks to offer a taster of the less essential topic? Moving away from the half term topic would free time.

All topics lend themselves to supporting the English and often maths curriculum, especially talking, reading and different writing forms, counting, leading to data and measures.

Integrating the different elements can help to free some time. How about sending home a piece of text to read, or an image to consider before a subsequent discussion lesson? Why spend fifteen minutes of a lesson giving time for consideration? Use the time to collate and share responses.

Space, time and resources are in teacher control. How they are used to support learning are under teacher direction. Time management will become more pressing as time passes.

Time is tight; to be used with care.

 
Field geometry?

Looking for simple challenges for children to use outdoors that have links to wider learning, straight lines and circles come to mind.

Challenges:

Lines
Using only three poles and either chalk or cones, can you create a straight line between two points on the playground or field?

Lines can be extended to drawing other geometric shapes. How about exploring Pythagoras theorem? It’s possible with year six. Linking squares with triangles and maybe extending to right angles and building with such simple geometry; builders 3,4,5 triangle?

Can you devise a method for drawing a vertical line? Crib note plumb line, a weight on a string.

Circles
You have a piece of string and a piece of chalk. Devise a way to draw a circle on the playground; for older children, that has a radius of 50cm.

What happens if you have drawn a circle, then “walked” the chalk radius around the circumference and marked points? What shape would it make? How else can a circle be divided?
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What happens if you draw a straight line, then draw circles at 20cm points along the line? Play with shapes?  
All these challenges could be replicated on a smaller scale with a compass, a ruler and pencils, exploring shapes within circles.

Make windmills?
This exercise was a part of a topic that I did around 1984, with a year six class, looking at energy, so it has some current resonance. Wind and water energies were exemplified and explored through a visit to a local windmill and watermill. Within the DT curriculum, attempts were made to create working models.

Alongside that, exploring circles allowed a homework project to create wind “turbines” that became the focus for a fair test to find the most efficient. The testing was relatively simple, with each turbine mounted on a compass, on a pencil embedded in the ground.
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Of course, just making our own windmill, coloured in, could be an interesting task in itself.
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Pandemic pensées. Feeling kinda blue…

It’s proving to be a very strange time, this lockdown stuff. We can do some things, but not others. In many ways, it’s the restrictions on life in general that begin to wear thin at times. Stoicism enables some resilience and we’re lucky to have a garden and countryside within a few minutes’ walk, so we can occasionally “escape” to wander and see and hear the wider world.

Occasionally, the desire for some normality, like stopping for a coffee can weigh a little, but then thought of the front line NHS workers put that into perspective. We all have to be grateful for everything that they have done, often in near impossible situations.

Passing total strangers, with them either wishing to have some contact, at a reasonable distance of course (walking poles are an excellent guide) or, as we encountered recently, an elderly lady totally turning her back as we passed, because she was afraid. There are reasons to be fearful, especially as the Government has spoken often about asymptomatic cases of Covid19. You look healthy, not showing any signs, but do you have it or have you had it (mildly)?

It’s the not knowing all the details, despite reading as much as possible and preferring to listen to the “experts” that leaves residual concerns.

Politicians have a different agenda. They have to show that they are in charge, because that’s their job. Being in charge means telling others what to do, which is probably easier in a totalitarian state. It can appear as if today we are moving further towards that, rather than the more liberal state that we have known.

Lockdown, to a large extent, shows how people will comply. It also showed the fear, in panic buying, although it is arguable that this was simply sensible, given the potential that, at any point, a family could be required to be in a two week quarantine, reliant on neighbours if family members weren’t close.

So we have endured six weeks of lockdown, at a prescribed distance from others, seeing the best of neighbourliness and friendship; watching out for signs of distress, checking on food supplies, or, in our case, also acting as a mobile library for a housebound elderly friend. It’s proving beneficial to have kept books that have been read; they can be lent. As she is an artist, they are also giving food for thought as she seeks inspiration in isolation.

So what’s life for most of us reduced to?

Basic essentials; food, drink, sleep, gardens/exercise, reading, TV, texts and calls to keep in touch. For some, these have been in short supply, so neighbourliness has also included checking on those essentials; schools have become ad hoc food banks, free school meals interpreted as food hampers by some, bypassing the Government vouchers. Handing over food is a means of also checking how things are. Vouchers can be remote and they didn’t work properly, at all, for a few weeks.

Schools have worked exceptionally hard to accommodate the learning challenges of remote teaching and learning; setting up platforms and communication systems, checking and seeking to address home internet and hardware needs (the latter probably easier than the former), phone checks on children’s well-being and how they are managing with set tasks. It’s been very time consuming, in a different way to normal planning and classroom activity. Much of this will prove beneficial in what will inevitably become the “new normal”.

Since their inception, schools have been based on the class or year group of children, with various organisations over that time, from the large groups with monitor teachers that are now organised as a class of about 30 with a main teacher and a full or part time assistant.

Will we see whole class teaching in the near future? As a school Governor and as a grandparent, I am as concerned as anyone to consider this.

Classrooms, since the 60/70s have been based on a notional 55sq m as the basis size. This has been interpreted over time in different ways. The larger part of my teaching life was in a scola build, a mid-1970s incarnation that included the walk-through spaces as a part of the 55sq m. The class bit was about 35 sq m, so corridors were part of the teaching space. I use this as an example that not all schools have the same accommodation. This will include corridors that will vary in width.

Entrance doors vary from those with handles to automatic entry points. Some need handling, others don’t. This has an implication for hand and surface hygiene before entry and then at all points of the day.

Playtime is a social gathering time. This is when mingling might occur. Breaks are also the time when most schools ask children to go to the toilet, again a mingling, messing about, time. Maybe children will need to be allowed to go to the toilet singly during “lessons” instead?

We are now in May and there’s speculation that schools will be asked to open in June, so timescales are relatively short, to take account of the broad range of needs to be accommodated.

There are many permutations of how things can be organised and every school will, no doubt, be trying very hard to work out what is best for everyone. Pressure will grow to open fully, to enable parents to go back to work, but that might not be safe in the short term and safety, of everyone involved has to be paramount. There’s no benefit in exposing everyone to a rapid, second spike in the virus.

There are a number of options that immediately spring to mind.

1. Maintain the status quo. Keep teaching remotely for as long as is needed, bearing in mind that a number (different in each school) will not be fully accessing or participating in learning.
2. A full return. This would prove virtually impossible in the majority of organisations. Maintaining social distancing, whether defined as 2m, 1.5m or 1m, unless every child was expected to wear a face covering and teachers offered some kind of PPE; maybe wearing a face visor would be mandatory? Guaranteeing hand hygiene would be impossible and all tables would need to be wiped down assiduously. Would children move between lessons, causing corridor mixing, or teachers move to classrooms? There will be a difference between Primary and Secondary. Many will see this as near impossible in the short term.

Taking 1 and 2 into account, it’s more likely that children will return to school in groups. To ease family issues, if children are in the same school, attending on the same day would seem sensible. I would be considering a half day experience, probably 9-12, with no breaks and going home for lunch to avoid playtime mixing in the short term.

1. One year-group back as a whole, which seems to be the politician articulation of what will be expected? Take the example of a one form entry school, of seven age groups and an example class of 30/32 children. Classroom space of 55sq m is likely to allow 6-8 children to be accommodated in one space, so this will take four classrooms and require four adults. There wouldn’t be space for any other year group as a whole to attend, so attendance patterns would be a seven-day rotation. There would be a continuous need for every year group to do remote teaching for the days where children were not attending.
2. One group of eight children per year group? Morning only. Afternoons then available to teachers to plan and catch up with remote learning. I have tweeted that this reminds me of my 1974 integrated day planning, in that large classes of 40 children required organisation into groups for needs, so there was an element of remote or independent activity between formal teaching and catch up.

What if:

The key teaching day for essential information was on Friday, giving the weekend as a distillation period, with Monday to Thursday attendance in groups for teachers to do essential overlearning for some and guidance/additional challenge for others? Groups would attend on the same day each week, except for essential worker children, who will require a continuous provision of oversight on set learning, plus additional social activities, for however long this situation has to last.

Which groups come in on which days? Vulnerable learners on Monday, to secure learning that they can then do independently, maybe with a check in/reprise on Thursday?

The main focus for the three hours attendance was Maths, English and Topic (30 minutes each) with time then given to a social activity like art, for some as therapy and a chance to chat?

Schools are between the inevitable “rock and hard place”. Whatever organisation is put in place, there will be inevitable complaints. There needs to be a political acceptance that every school will be doing its best. It will do no-one any good to know that “the school down the road does x”. That school’s facilities may differ greatly. Locality communication will be essential, to seek to minimise that pressure.

At some point in the near future, as a Governor, I will be involved in discussions about plans to restore some element of face to face direct contact with children, ensuring that safety is paramount. Teaching is a people job, it’s also a social role. Getting close to children and their needs is the essence of good teaching and learning. We have to safeguard all adults in schools and monitor carefully any potential adverse consequences of these initial decisions.

We could try to hope that, for a week or so in July, some element of normality might be possible, maybe whole days and a chance to ensure transitions are managed for September. No-one should be over-confident that this will happen. It will be a case of envisaging and planning for all eventualities.

One of the simple pleasures of the recent need to stay at home for extended periods has been the opportunity to watch the bird feeders and the bird bath, both of which get regular visitors, getting up to various acrobatic tricks and having no shame in their bathing techniques.

Having some shrubs and small trees around does help the birds confidence, as they can make a quick getaway if necessary to avoid local cats or occasionally, us. However, by being a quiet presence in the garden, many birds are now coming to within a metre of us, and not just the robins.
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Both the feeders and the bath are very simple; something to hold seed or more open to hold the suet balls. Our local pet shops and certainly our local Wilko or B&M are open.
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The bath is nothing more than a tray to stand a pot in. It holds water and fits the space. It doesn’t need to be special; an upturned dustbin lid will work, too, with stones to make an “island” for birds to stand safely.
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A few weeks’ ago, we had a dozen varieties of birds coming in an hour. This week, April 14th, the birds are more active in the garden picking up bits of nesting material, so we have cut some of the dry grasses to help and also put out hair that was caught in hair-brushes.

Over the next couple of weeks, we will expect to see the parent birds coming regularly to the feeders to collect particularly the suet, if last year is anything to go by, to feed themselves, as a quick snack while out looking for insects, but also their young, eventually coming back in family groups for a few weeks before they disperse.

It’s very simple, but good fun.

​Online identification is possible, if you’re not confident in naming the birds that come., We’ve had blue tits, great tits, long tailed tits and an occasional coal tit, sparrows and starlings, robins, blackbirds, nuthatches, greenfinches and goldfinches. The wren makes an occasional appearance, as do the thrushes and jays. Fortunately, the magpies have been quieter this year, although they are impressive birds.

More blogs on using the natural world.
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Observation; get them to look
Creating Nature Detectives
50 things to Do; Thinking Locality
​A Sense of Place; naming things

The Wildlife Trusts have a junior section; Watch.
https://www.wildlifewatch.org.uk/
Or there’s the RSPB
https://www.rspb.org.uk/birds-and-wildlife/wildlife-guides/identify-a-bird/

Pandemic pensées
We’re living in very strange times. The world’s closed down. People are at home, some working, some furloughed, some looking after themselves or others, whose lives may be risked by catching the current virus.
Teachers are working really hard to maintain some elements of normality among the altered reality and, in different households, the capacity to support children with any areas of learning might be strained. Teacher capacity to identify and support individuals with specific help will also be constrained.
Children have been put into a situation where they are distance learning. Even as an adult, this can be a challenge, in motivation, resourcefulness and perseverance. Frustrations that might be expressed in normal times about “not understanding” what is expected may be exaggerated further by the expectations of a number of hours each day devoted to “schoolwork”.
This tweet, posted by an Aussie teacher made me stop and think.
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Teachers may well be sending home work that challenges the child’s ability to conceptualise what is being expected. If we look at maths as a separate area, in this case, a teacher or other adult might seek to unpick the problem and exemplify what is being asked by the use of supportive diagrams or with reference to physical materials.
But… home is not school, so the resources may not be available.
That, in itself, set off a train of thought and took me back to my first classroom, which I inherited with resources that were either twenty years old, or non-existent. There was a need to create, devise or collect resources that would support counting, matching and grouping. So visits to the beach might mean picking up shells to bring home, boil and clean to take into school. Autumn meant collecting conkers. I did try marbles, at one time, but, for some reason, they kept going missing… It soon became clear that anything could become a counting aid, so newsletter requests to parents helped with a variety of materials and the local sweet shop was a source of large, clear jars.
I thought it might be an idea to consider how to make resources from very simple materials that might be available in homes, provide useful activities in their development, then be useful in specific maths activities.
Let’s start with counting.
It’s possible that families are getting through quite a lot of cereal, or other boxed foods. The cardboard can be used as free base materials. A ruler, marker pen, pencil and scissors are needed.

Open out the boxes and cut the larger pieces. Keep bits, in case you want to make more at some stage.
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Measure and rule a 1cm grid, or larger, 2cm, if you are worried for a child’s dexterity, using as much of the card as possible. Identify a couple of 10*10 grids, as 100 squares, where you can cut 10 squares into “rods”, leaving the remainder to become “ones”, “singles” or “units”.

Drawing a 3cm by 4cm grid can create a series of rectangles that become number cards. If you have enough, numbering to 100 is very useful to challenge later learning.
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Cut out the various pieces.
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Combining the counting numbers with the cut out counters can begin to develop thinking mathematically, matching numbers, showing these in physical form.

Challenges can then develop, linking physical, diagrammatic and abstract.
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A very simple activity that can be very effective in supporting rapid calculation could be called race to or from the flat. This can be an extension from making the resources above, with the addition of one or more dice.
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As long as you have made the materials above and have some dice, this can be developed to cater for a variety of needs.

The rules of each game are simply described.
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·         Decide whether it’s a race to or from the flat (100 square). Decide whether, when the dice are thrown, the numbers are added together (any number of dice) or multiplied (two or three dice?).
·         Dienes materials available tin the centre of players, plus dice appropriate to the needs of the group.
·         Each child takes turns to throw the dice and calculate the sum or product.
·         This amount is then taken from the general pile and placed in front of the child. The calculation can be recorded eg 3+4=7. This can provide a second layer of checking.
·         If playing race from the flat, the child starts with ten ten rods, then takes an appropriate amount from these.
·         Subsequent rounds see pieces added to the child’s collection; recorded as needed, eg round 2, 5+2=7 (7+7=14; the teacher should see one ten and four ones)
·         The first child to or from the flat is the winner.


Altering the number of dice alters the challenge.