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you load sixteen tonnes
Sunday, 11 September 2005 12:24 pm'Tis a beautiful spring day, and outside is balmy and warm and clean; in the garden, my small stupid kitty (Golux) is crouched by the herb bed, watching in apparent fascination the slow, reptilian crawl of water on the soil surface from a dripping hose. She's been there for 15 minutes by my computer clock. Dear little dimwit. I think she expects the trickle to make a break for it any moment, allowing her to pounce and get her little white paws all wet. Then again, this is generally more desirable behaviour than last night's, when she and her demon-spawn sister were discovered playing happily with a mouse-corpse under my bed as I trundled sleep-wards, muzzy and wine-soaked.
I always seem to revert to the Miyazaki coal-heaving fuzzies icon when I have the Marking Pile Of Damocles hanging over my head. Marked most of yesterday afternoon and all this morning. Yesterday's essays were almost uniformly horrible, causing screaming, blasphemy and rants about apostrophes at intervals. Students can do some horrible, horrible things to one's favourite authors. However, there were at least two first-class efforts this morning, just in time to prevent ritual suicide and create that warm, fulfilled glow and desire to hug the perpetrators. One reason why babies simply don't appeal to me is that any further experience of the psychotic alternation between frustrated fury and the warm fuzzies that is the maternal instinct, would be entirely redundant.
Yesterday's marking session was blissfully interrupted by the descent of jo&stv, who remained for supper and an unpremeditated watching of Pirates of the Carribbean, which has my vote as Film Most Likely To Be Even More Fun With Each Re-watching. I'm madly looking forward to the sequel. I still have a dozen or so essays to go, which is clearly why I'm blogging, reading fanfic, writing random e-mails and watching the cats.
p.s. I seem to have blogged, to a greater or lesser extent, every day for the last week. I think it's the moons of Saturn in an odd conjunction.
I always seem to revert to the Miyazaki coal-heaving fuzzies icon when I have the Marking Pile Of Damocles hanging over my head. Marked most of yesterday afternoon and all this morning. Yesterday's essays were almost uniformly horrible, causing screaming, blasphemy and rants about apostrophes at intervals. Students can do some horrible, horrible things to one's favourite authors. However, there were at least two first-class efforts this morning, just in time to prevent ritual suicide and create that warm, fulfilled glow and desire to hug the perpetrators. One reason why babies simply don't appeal to me is that any further experience of the psychotic alternation between frustrated fury and the warm fuzzies that is the maternal instinct, would be entirely redundant.
Yesterday's marking session was blissfully interrupted by the descent of jo&stv, who remained for supper and an unpremeditated watching of Pirates of the Carribbean, which has my vote as Film Most Likely To Be Even More Fun With Each Re-watching. I'm madly looking forward to the sequel. I still have a dozen or so essays to go, which is clearly why I'm blogging, reading fanfic, writing random e-mails and watching the cats.
p.s. I seem to have blogged, to a greater or lesser extent, every day for the last week. I think it's the moons of Saturn in an odd conjunction.
