There is nothing new, or original, in this blog. It is just more about what would have helped me as a new teacher. I don't know why I'm bothering with these blogs really, maybe it is my age... philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/02/22/w...

Another interesting aspect of the Send white paper is that it aims to encourage schools to keep more complex SEND children at school. However, the new Ofsted framework penalises schools for lower than average attainment. I know which route some schools will take…

So if there’s more pointless paperwork at initial point, then there will be 3 results: A decrease in the quality of support for children that need it the most A decrease in the ‘official’ send numbers A decrease in the amount of children qualifying for EHCPs

And if all Send plans are given some sort of legal status, the explosion in paperwork will be unmanageable. More admin means less time with children and decreased quality of provision. Also means less plans as people can’t physically do them all.

Been reading the early leaks, and speaking to a couple of people about the send white paper. I hope I’m wrong, and over simplifying things, but I have a horrible feeling that we are about to return to the days of ‘action’ and ‘action +’.

Yet another blog from me, this time about...well, I am not sure what it's about really, just me banging on abut the dfe and those that talk in big pictures. philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/02/17/t...

I just accidentally watched Peter Hitchens talking for 15 seconds (I thought it was something else, goddammit) and now I feel utterly nauseous.

Little Rudi scoring today..

One thing I have been trying to do recently is learn the value of silence. Clearly, according to most people, I have a way to go, but I do think it is a good lesson to learn. I appreciate that is a bit of a paradox on a platform that relies on interactions, but you see my point.

Pub it was. Happy holidays, groovy fuckers.

I think we should go to the pub, I say. It’s a bit early to start drinking, says Claire. It’s not if you’re planning on being in bed at half eight, I reply. Claire needs to shift her thinking.

It's the last day of the toughest half term, we've had 15 wet plays on the bounce, it has rained every day since Boxing day, the kids are in their own clothes, the moon is waxing and it's Friday 13th. What could possibly go wrong. Good luck folks.

Happy Saturday, beautiful people.

Dom used to change Rudi's nappies.

The hardest thing about this whole Epstein thing is the thought that Peter Mandelson lied: I’m just not buying it. He’s always been a man of such integrity.

A teacher is talking about a Y5 playleader. I'm not sure she's right, she complains, she is only doing the job for the hoodie and lanyard. Why you do your job, I ask her. I like working with children, she says. And, I say. For the money, she laughs. Then she'll be fine, I say.

Right, I have done another blog. This one gives advice on how to ensure whole school Inclusion. I am sure there is lots missing, but if you follow this you won't be far off. In my opinion, obviously... philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/02/04/s...

A plea to those people I follow who respond to stupid questions or posts from people they don’t know. Like ‘All gay people are demented, do you agree?’ Or ‘Name a country with the letter A in, bet you can’t’. They’re clickbait. Don’t fucking reply! It’s clogging my timeline.

Alex is back. Happy Friday ladies and gents.

I have written another blog, this time about Inclusion. Such a buzz word, but I have been getting annoyed with half baked theories and abstract language, so I hope this helps. Barely scratches the surface of the topic though, I think... philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/01/29/i...

Ha ha ha, for a second there I thought that Ofsted were including in their judgements whether a 4 year old child was sitting 'properly' to write. Because to reduce the complexities of a whole school's teaching provision to something like this would be fucking ludicrous..

Bit blowy, so much so that I feel as if I've had my face slapped for the last 3 hours... Whatever the weather though, it's always good to get out.

View from my window. Always a bit exciting to see a view when you arrived in the dark.

So, my little walking weekend didn't get off to the best of starts. But I'm here now...

We are going through one of those phases again when I daren't turn the news on.

My mum has smoked for 66 years. This week she was diagnosed with vascular dementia so we told her she's got to cut down the fags and brandy. This weekend we bought her a vape. She threw it in the bin and said she's not having it cos it's too addictive. Honestly, I could kill her.

So I have written another blog, still under the file 'dull but useful'. This one is parents' evening. As with everything I write, take it or leave it as you please... philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/01/18/p...

How do you use the first 20 minutes of the day? In our school, Early Work is purposeful: catch-up, retrieval, review, pre-teaching & checking in with children. Have a read of our latest blog below open.substack.com/pub/theeduca... All shares and retweets gratefully received.

Hello lovely people, I need your help. We still haven’t found a buyer for Mum’s lovely retirement house near the sea in Cromer on Norfolk coast. It really is time someone else was making happy memories there. I’d really appreciate everyone sharing it widely 😁 www.rightmove.co.uk/properties/1...

And at the risk of annoying everyone, here is another. philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/01/09/s...

Right I've written a blog. At least I think I have as this may not work: philsalisbury.wordpress.com/2026/01/09/r... It's pretty dull.

This hurts.

Ok I'll do it. No other fucker is going to do it. Yet again, it'll be me picking this up. I'll eat the fudge and the milky ways.

Each morning, all last term, I’ve had a drink of lemon juice, fresh ginger and turmeric; one shot every morning from a bottle I keep in the fridge. Well, it seems that last night Alex didn’t finish his very strong rum cocktail, so he put the leftovers in a bottle. In the fridge. That woke me up.

I really want to have a sober, early night so I'm not tired for tomorrow and sleep ok tomorrow night. But it's the last night of the holiday and I really want a beer and to stay up late to savour every last moment of holiday. Decisions, decisions...

Beautiful walk with a couple of little pals. No snow though.

I’ve moved my work bag from the car into the house. This is an important first step.

So far today I’ve had a sausage sandwich, a bacon and egg sandwich, 3 pieces of baclava, 8 sensations, a yoghurt, some Brie, a croissant, about 43 chilli nuts, a beef and cheese sandwich, 4 crackers with Stilton, pasta with mozzarella and some mackerel pate. This can’t go on.

And with the sound of slippers being removed, the rustle of duvets and pillows being packed, the packing of coats and spare milk, they’re gone. Which way you gonna go, I say to jeff. I’ll just follow Wazz, he says, we’ll probably call in at Marks’ in Carmarthen. And they will.

And then they’re leaving. They open the doors of the boys’ bedrooms and peer in while they’re sleeping, just for a final glance before they go. Elaine, of course, whispers loudly at Jeff not to wake them, but they have a quick glance at each other before they close the door.

I just run granny, he says.

Ruud is talking through his tries today with Elaine. How did you know where to run, she asks. He laughs, I don't know granny I just know. Look at those legs, she says, how did they get so long. He laughs again. You used to run round my lounge like that, she says quietly.

Ruud decides to go out. He can't, shouts Elaine. Why not, I laugh. It's freezing, she says, and he hurt his leg playing rugby. He'll be fine, I laugh again. It's so late and it's dark, she says. It's 7 and he's not going into the Bronx, Jeff says. Well I wouldn't go, she says.

So now we're watching Welsh rugby, in Welsh. Jeff helpfully adds bizarre details every time a player's name is mentioned. His mother lives near haverford west, he says. His dad played for Ebbw Vale, he says. He's a keen trainspotter, he says. About every single player.

Well that didn't last long. Peace is shattered as she shouts up the stairs. It's freezing out there, she says, sniffing. I was just having a snifter, I say. Bit early, she scowls Jeff did you want a beer, I shout. No, she shouts Oh go on then, he says.

There is a god. They've all gone for a walk, I have some moments of bliss to myself with the last drop of yesterday's almost flawless Portuguese red wine. And breathe.

So within seconds he's at the sink, running taps, wiping, scraping, banging. All under the searching, laser like gaze.if Elaine, who sits commenting on everything. It's exhausting.

And after every meal a military operation ensues. It's high energy scraping, and stacking, and wiping, and spraying with an almost medical precision, and before you know it the room is like a sterile environment again. No one speaks, it's like a grim determination..

J and E can, you'll be surprised to hear, quite judgemental at times. I think it's part of the chapel heritage, pious Protestantism etc. Elaine's the sort that thinks having cream on a bun is scandalous gluttony. She monitors and comments on everything anyone eats or drinks..

If you listen carefully, in the background, you can hear a screeching as Rudi scores...