Moor to an education than school
IT’S been icy cold with the first sprinkling of snow on the moortops this week – not enough to build snowmen but enough to necessitate the finding of balaclavas to avoid the children risking frostbite.
When we gathered the last flock of sheep in from the moor on Monday I went to great lengths to ensure Annas, Clemmy and Nancy were all super wrapped-up and warm with waterproof leggings and layer upon layer under their coats.
Of course I’d hardly taken three steps across the farmyard when Clive pointed out little Nancy – in her all-in-one suit and strapped into my backpack – had a look of deep concentration on her cherubic face.
Experience told me to deal with this at home rather than improvising a nappy change outside with a handful of moss in sub-zero temperatures.
We set off again – with serious dog power from Bill and Kate – and the children walked, ran, slid and chattered.
In that afternoon we covered a big chunk of the national curriculum: geology, history, biology, maths and English.
We counted the sheep and recited names of the places we could see but are no longer on maps.
We saw acidic peaty bogland punctuated by weather-eroded rocks, stone-built folds and shelters for shepherds tending our sheep’s ancestors centuries ago. It was exhausting. I make no claims to be a teacher but I’m sure that not all classrooms have four walls.