In 3rd year Classical Civilisation, I’m just about to start teaching Roman history in a topic I’ve called ‘Settlement, Kingdom, Republic, Empire’, and starting with The Aeneid in an abridged version – after all, they’re only 13ish.
So…I’m allergic to alcohol.
This comes as not an entirely unseen or unwelcome surprise. I’ve never really reacted to the jolly stuff terribly well, and I’ve had some pretty horrible experiences, both physical and mental, with drink and those who drink. Having a medical reason, I’m finding, makes not-drinking a hell of a lot easier however, as most people seem to immediately worry when you tell them you’re not drinking, worrying that you won’t be ‘any fun’ or that you’ll stop their fun. I’m not about to stop anyone having fun. I’ll just have a slimline-tonic-and-lime-ice-and-a-slice if you’re going to the bar.
Another go at the ‘reading poetry aloud to strangers’ game, and this time far more successful.
This time, I read Andrew Marvell’s ‘To His Coy Mistress’ and my 16-year-old response to it. (I have promised to actually write something for the next one in Oct…which I’ll try to do but I’m promising nuffing.)
Tonight, convinced by a student who is rather a fan of my writing, I went to a poetry open mike night.