March 4th

They come around every now and again. That's to say, one of those days you wish had never happened. It all started well enough, with all thoughts of an early start to spring firmly laid to rest with a sharp shower of snow. It settled on the rooves, though never the road, but the sight of the white stuff filling the skies has, and I think always will cheer me up.
Jolly J was waiting in the car park. The snow had settled on him ok, and the lesson ran really soothly, He says he is much more comfortable with me than his previous guy, which is comforting.
An hour's break then off to Aylesbury. I have run out of ideas with S so though I'd put him through his paces in a mock test. It ws as expected, pretty messy, though not a disgrace, with the exception of the reverse park. The bloody car was all over the place. When we got back he had a go at the bay park, which was even more dire. We agreed a couple more lessons and then we'll book for the real thing. I can hardly express confidence.
So over to Oxford with some confidence after yesterday to meet with E. She's been busy. Shooping, cleaning the house and taking the dog for a walk. Doesn't sound too stressful, but apparently it has turned her brain to mush. After yesterday when all looked fine, now I clearly see why she has failed 5 tests. I feel myself losing patience a little bit with some of the idiot thing she says and does. At one stage a land rover comes onto our side f the road to pass parked cars. Naughty, bit as I always say, "we have to deal with it." E deals with it by banging her foot to the deck and heading straight for him. Overnight she has los the ability to cotrol the car with the clutch, an we are stalling every two minutes. A mini roundabout is totally beyond her comprehension, and I spend a full fifteen minutes explaining to her. Fucking nightmare. I can only hope the reccommended good night's sleepp has the desired effect.
I drive home and when I arrive all is gloom. Emma had applied for entry to HG school on the basis of havinghad 2 siblings there already. It worded for Daniel, but now we have a bombshell dropped on us. Application for HG is unsuccesful, but they are delighted to offer us a place at Cressex Community school. The fuck will she go there. My liberal credentials take a knock as I think of sending that sweet young girl into a fucking mix between a madrassa and a borstal. That's the plavce a brick came flying from and into the windscreen of an AA car whilst N took it out on test. But what to do? Appeal obviously, but if no good? We'd have to move, or somehw acquire an address within the HG catchment.
Disheartened I go to the Instructor's meeting. The entire first half is devoted to the YDE, which affects about 5 people and brings no benefit at all to the rest of us. Bomb Lewis reveals new triumphs. He has the DSA's permission to use some quote or other in the next press release. The town clerk of Chsham Bois Parish council has URGENTLY demanded posters to bung up in the village hall. Encouraged, he proposes and increase to three days of he YDE. Eyebros are raised. He has clearly gone bonkers. I am losing the will to live.
At half time I discover that K, who I had not really spoken to before, has also applied for HG for his granddaughter, who lives in Totteridge. She has also been sent to Cressex. If someone living in Totteridge is refused, I dread to think what Emmsy's chances might be.
I return home and scur the net for property prices in HG. It's not encouraging. Anything near the price we would sll for is tiny and pokey. I look at Aylesbury. Nicer houses to be had for the price there. Then Milton Keynes... nicer still. very nicein fact. How the hell can we ask H to travel from MK every day though.
She'll get on to the HM, Gilbert tomorrow. She'll do all she can for Emsy. We have to do something, that's for sure.
What a dismal situation though, and a discredit to the education system that has developed post war. Why should there be bad schools, where no one wants to send their kids? Why o we accept it as the norm, and just hope our kids don't end up in them? And what about the mums and dads who want something better for their offspring, but have no idea what strings there are to tug, and how to pull them, or who, in extremis, don't have the chance to change address. It's shit. That's what it is.