Returning from South London where I've spent the last two days running critical & reflective thinking workshops, I shared a table on the train back into the capital with three women debating the effect of a children's character called Rastamouse on their impressionable youngsters' speech patterns.
Typical comments included such pearls of wisdom as "I’m struggling to help my two children learn to speak English and it doesn’t help when programmes such as Rastamouse are aired on CBeebies," and "I'll be proper angry if my children start beginning every sentence with the word “me”."
I'd like to have had the social skills to join in and point out that there are different dialects on TV all the time, none of which can compete with the influence of a child's home environment, but having been brought up with Bill and Ben, I'm one of a generation that's been held back because none of us can start a sentence without going "flobbleswobbledobbledeplob"....
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This blog is a (much!) less-than-formal outlining of recent travels, events, happenings, thoughts and comments which tend to have some occupational relevance, but are on occasion nothing more than a means of passing the time while waiting for trains, planes & automobiles...
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