Yesterday I was having such fun on the tram and then once more on the bus while on my way to work. I had dug out my copy of Urie Bronfenbrenner’s Two Worlds of Childhood:USA and USSR the day before and had started to read it again. On the bus I was sticking in more Post-it arrows in bright pink, yellow and green, and deciding which of the brilliant poster illustrations to use as a heading for a blog posting to describe the book. Then I starting taking down notes for a posting.
It was such a lovely start to what turned out to be a very lovely day. See my earlier posting:
I do not have to go to work in the morning so I thought that this evening I would get out my book and my notebook, set them out on the breakfast table beside the computer and prepare for a quick posting in the morning.
What a terible shock to find that there is no lovely book in my bag, and no notebook either.
I have absolutely no recollection of where they are. I do not really remember where I sat on the bus this morning but I do remember very clearly turning round to see whether I had forgotten anything, as I have always done since I left a lovely summer hat on a bus several years ago.
I have absolutely no idea where to start my search, other than to retrace my steps tomorrow lunch time.
First stop will be the Post Office where I left my newspaper last week!
Second stop will be the baker’s where I picked up a cup of coffee.
Then, if those produce no results and I do not find it lying on the desk at work, I shall have to phone the bus company’s lost-and-found department. The problem is that I have absolutely no idea what time I got on the bus! I do know that it was the number 28 though and I have a receipt somewhere from the Post Office and I expect that it has the time printed on it. I went there immediately I got out of the bus.
Oh, how I wish I had Sherlock Holmes to help me
What did I want to say about Urie Bronfenbrenner? What had I scribbled down in my note book? The quotations will have to wait, there is no way I can remember them. I had just found something that I thought would be lovely to introduce over on my Upbringing blog, Brofenbrenner was describing upbringing of the character. Was that really what he had said? I am not quite sure now, that too will have to wait. On the bus I had been enthralled with what I had been reading about Sukhomlinsky and Makarenko.
I am hopeful that I will find my battered book that has been in my bag for months. It has been to England twice since I bought it on Abebooks and has made the journey with me to Hong Kong and back.
It really is high time it got finished. I had been stuck at page thirty-nine, where the lovely posters start, for too long! Now I may never get to finish it in the nice Penguin copy with the illustrations that had been so hard to track down.
On the same day on the same bus had had read the following in the “Reply” section of my 11.03.2011 Guardian Weekly newspaper:
“Tucked away on the distance learning page (25 February) was a truly sensational and very disturbing statement made by Catherine Anderson, director of residential and leisure services at Liverpool University: ‘ Students don’t read anything. If you put something in writing it’s absolutely pointless.’ ”
Having read this short article I was even more determined to get to the end of my precious Brofenbrenner book. I am not a student, I am really interested in the contents of this book and as it is under two hundred pages long I am gave myself until the weekend to get it finished. Then not many minutes later I lost it.