On Wednesday I was at work teaching our 'Take Cover' workshop which is about the Second World War. The children undertake three activities.

They learn about evacuees and rationing by packing a suitcase looking at the coupon value of each garments and realising how few new clothes the children would have each year, while the Home Front is studied by handling and discussing objects used by members of the Home Guard, the Auxialliary Fire Service, the Red Cross, the Police and the ARP. These are both done sitting at a table in the education room.

Downstairs in the War Gallery they sit in the Anderson shelter listening to an air-raid, look round the gallery at the 'typical' back parlour, the ARP post, the various displays and at the gas masks - one of which is safe for them to try on, and one is one of those whole body respirators for a baby into which they insert a life-size baby doll.

Baby Dolly is very well behaved and allows herself to be inserted in the repirator every time, unlike my Uncle Steve who, according to my father, screamed and kicked and went stiff so much that they never got him into the thing. Just as well there never was a gas attack really.

I've been doing this workshop since it was devised about four years ago, and on Wednesday was just putting everything away when Vicky came in and asked me if I would be willing to do an interview for television about it. (When I say television I don't mean the BBC, but some local digital channel) So I unpacked some of the things and went down to the War Gallery in costume where I talked about evacuation, put Dolly in the respirator, chatted about my father and his baby brother, grabbed baby and rushed into the Anderson shelter where I chatted about my mother's family's belief that the cat had a sixth sense about bombs so that they only went into the shelter if she did, and drank imaginary tea (real cup) in the parlour.

I'm sure I look absolutely wonderful with my bright red lipstick, my strange hairdo and my grandmother's hat, but I don't think that I'll make any attempt to watch me. The extra hour's pay will be nice though - a small contribution towards the £200 excess I have to pay when I collect my car tomorrow. In 1939 that would probably have bought a whole new car!