Head Over Heels in the Dales

Product Description<br/><br/><br/>Head Over Heels in the Dales is the third volume in Gervase Phinn's bestselling Dales Series 'Could you tell me how to spell "sex" please?' Gervase Phinn thinks he's heard just about everything in his two years as a school inspector, but a surprising enquiry from an angelic six-year-old reminds him never to take children for granted. This year Gervase has lots of important things on his mind - his impending marriage to Christine Bentley (the prettiest headteacher for miles around), finding somewhere idyllic to live in the Yorkshire Dales, and the chance of a promotion. All of which generate their fair share of excitement, aided and abetted as usual by his colleagues in the office. In Head Over Hells in the Dales, join Gervase Phinn in the classroom where he faces his greatest challenge: keeping a straight face as teachers and children alike conspire to have him laughing out loud. 'Gervase Phinn's memoirs have made him a hero in school staff-rooms' Daily Telegraph Gervase Phinn is an author and educator from Rotherham who, after teaching for fourteen years in a variety of schools, moved to North Yorkshire to be a school inspector. He has written autobiographies, novels, plays, collections of poetry and stories, as well as a number of books about education. He holds five fellowships, honorary doctorates from Hull, Leicester and Sheffield Hallam universities, and is a patron of a number of children's charities and organizations. He is married with four adult children. His books include The Other Side of the Dale, Over Hill and Dale, Head Over Heels in the Dales, The Heart of the Dales, Up and Down in the Dales and Trouble at the Little Village School.<br/><br/><br/>Review<br/><br/><br/>The third in the funny, anecdotal series about life in the Dales from the 'James Herriot' of school inspectors.<br/><br/><br/>Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.<br/><br/><br/>'Could you tell me how to spell "sex", please?' The speaker was a flaxen-haired, angelic-faced girl of about six with wide innocent eyes and a complexion a model would die for.<br/>'I ... b ... b ... b ... beg your pardon?' I stuttered.<br/>I was sitting in the comer of the infant classroom of Staplemoor County Primary School on a bright September morning, the second week into the new school term, there to observe the first lesson of the day. The children had just settled down to write their stories when the little angel approached me, paper in hand, pencil poised.<br/>'"Sex." Could you spell "sex" for me, please?' she repeated, smiling widely.<br/>I had been a County Inspector of Schools in Yorkshire now for a little over two years and during that time I thought I had become accustomed to the precocious young children I had met. I had been delighted by their humour, intrigued by their responses to my questions and amused by their sharp observations on life. But on a few rare occasions, like this one, I had been completely lost for words. My colleague and immediate superior, Dr Harold Yeats, had warned me early on in my career about such potentially hazardous situations. He had told me, that when faced with an inquisitive child who asks a tricky question or raises an embarrassing topic, to smile widely, nod sagely and be as evasive as possible.<br/>'It's like fishing for trout, Gervase,' he had once confided in me. 'You need to know when to let out the line and when to reel it in. Give it plenty of space, let it tire itself out and then it will stop thrashing. Don't be too quick to explain things to young children - you could get yourself into hot water. Just listen and take your time.'<br/>I took Harold's advice. 'Why do you want me to spell that word for you?' I whispered.<br/>'I need it for my story,' replied the child.<br/>'What is your story about?' I asked gingerly.<br/>'I just want you to spell "sex".'<br/>'Yes, but could you tell me a little about your story?'<br/>'Why?'<br/>This was getting harder. 'Well, I would like you to.'<br/>The child shook her head and breathed out heavily. She answered me in a voice which had an ex