On suspension bridges and longships.
Having been right through that wonderful institution known as the 'Great' British school system and (just about) come out the other side, I've done a fair few projects in my time. Most were a bit shite, but there were a few that stayed with me:

1) A term-long project about the Vikings in Year Four.
Now, my family history can be traced back a touch beyond that of most 8-9 year olds, in that I'm directly descended, by way of my grandmother's family, from the Vikings. Not just any Vikings either, some of the first Viking invaders of Ireland no less. With that in mind imagine, if you will, a belligerent 8 year old having a blazing row with her teacher over the veracity of the statement "My granny's a Viking!". Then imagine the same child spending the rest of the term making her ancestors proud and throwing herself into the Viking Project with such gusto the school started sending notes home about it.

The end result? We moved onto Romans the following term and, rather than being permitted to terrorise the Roman Project in the same way (not bleedin' likely!), I was allowed to slope off to the library for 'extra reading time'. I hated studying the Romans, loved reading books, and spent the rest of that term happy as a larry who'd just won the literary lottery. Score!



2) Building suspension bridges.
Same school, slightly later in my colourful career there. We were put into groups, given free rein in the 'Modern' Technologies room, (which was somewhat rudimentary to say the least) and told to build bridges. Surprisingly, this wasn't a half-arsed, happy-clappy metaphor, it did actually mean 'build a sodding bridge strong enough to support Xkg of the cheap Lego ripoff we've borrowed from the Infant School'. My group laboured on, and on, and on, and eventually came up with a mildly efficient bridge, which broke in half more than held its own during the Lego-bearing competition.It was sometime during the competition that this project earned its place forever in my mind, when I realised I was always going to be what I'd heard called an 'arty type'. Why? Because while our bridge was lacking on the technological side (and by that point, in two distinct halves), I didn't care because artistically, it was a masterpiece that I still wish I'd kept.


Incidentally, it's not often the QOTW coincides with what I'm doing, but I finally remembered to check this week's (having been at a festival over the weekend) just as I finished making an ornamental oil-burner out of a miniature bucket, the lid from a tin of hair glitter, and a healthy amount of garden wire with the plastic stripped off. Which works remarkably and pleasingly well I should add.


No apologies for length, because it broke in half anyway.
(BrokenMatchstick is harbouring a dangerous amount of phosphorus., Tue 18 Aug 2009, 17:14, Reply)