Looks Like a Brown Trouser Job

Gentlemen. Ladies.

I have been given quite a task over the next few weeks. This morning I rolled out of bed, shovelled a sandwich together and traipsed through a foggy, muddy and icy Mousehold Heath. On my way to a meeting, the prospect of getting lost amongst the branching pathways and missing out on something exciting had me fearing the worst. Why do I leave my preparations until the last minute?

Those fears, though, are as nothing compared to what I now face up to, in the wake of the meeting. I’ve just been to discuss a photography competition being held across Heartsease Primary School, Angel Road Junior School and Sewell Park College, at which I managed to offer a little bit of support and input – you know, helping out with mounting the prints…

Not a bit of it. No sooner did the teachers get a sniff of the fact that I am a photographer, than they drafted me in to actually help judge the thing. Innocuous stuff, you might think, although they are of course leaving the self-esteem of hundreds of vulnerable children in my hands, my faux-pas ridden, gaffe-ridden hands, and my dear things, it gets worse.

They have also asked me to speak to a school assembly or two, to provide a drop of inspiration and a dash of advice to the children entering the competition.

Those of you who know me will already have gasped with fright at such a prospect. Ask yourself this: would you trust me with a speech at your dinner table? Of course you wouldn’t. Oh, this is the worst kind of nightmare for everybody concerned. Do dry cleaners do underwear…?

Only too pleased to help out though. I shall let you know how it goes. I wouldn’t come too near me until the end of March if you’ve a keen sense of smell, though…