Tuesday wol is fuzzy and causes earthquakes in Australia
Tuesday, 3 May 2011 07:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
freckles_and_doubtHooray! Baby wol! Just because. Courtesy of Zooborns.
Baby wols have legs like tree trunks and a perpetual state of bad hair day. They're incurably cute, and the annoyed glare is fairly characteristic. When they're annoyed they clack their beaks together with a rather threatening noise that sounds exactly as though someone's slamming shut a tight-fitting wooden container in a bit of a pet.
Just to keep with the theme, my latest Micfic, which is all Childe-Rolandey with a touch of Thurber and which for once I actually don't hate, features earthquake owls. I have no idea what an earthquake owl is, except that I think it's small and green and innocuous looking and of the burrowing persuasion. The earthquakes come later, if you annoy it. Annoyed owls are very annoyed.
Earthquake owls sound like the kind of thing you'd find in Australia, probably on the same general principles as drop bears. My faculty, in the person of the Dean, is threatening to send me off to Australia for a week in July as the faculty delgate on what's known merrily as a "benchmarking mission", which means we compare ourselves earnestly to the academic processes of various other institutions. Apparently I'd be terribly useful at this because I'm both an administrator and a teacher. Hooray! finally, some kind of validation of my bizarre hybrid existence. This may all fall through, or be torpedoed from above by some more senior academic who rather wants to go in my place, but it's an interesting prospect.
This post apparently brought to you courtesy of tags beginning with the letter "W". I should go and eat something now, I think I'm light-headed.
Baby wols have legs like tree trunks and a perpetual state of bad hair day. They're incurably cute, and the annoyed glare is fairly characteristic. When they're annoyed they clack their beaks together with a rather threatening noise that sounds exactly as though someone's slamming shut a tight-fitting wooden container in a bit of a pet.
Just to keep with the theme, my latest Micfic, which is all Childe-Rolandey with a touch of Thurber and which for once I actually don't hate, features earthquake owls. I have no idea what an earthquake owl is, except that I think it's small and green and innocuous looking and of the burrowing persuasion. The earthquakes come later, if you annoy it. Annoyed owls are very annoyed.
Earthquake owls sound like the kind of thing you'd find in Australia, probably on the same general principles as drop bears. My faculty, in the person of the Dean, is threatening to send me off to Australia for a week in July as the faculty delgate on what's known merrily as a "benchmarking mission", which means we compare ourselves earnestly to the academic processes of various other institutions. Apparently I'd be terribly useful at this because I'm both an administrator and a teacher. Hooray! finally, some kind of validation of my bizarre hybrid existence. This may all fall through, or be torpedoed from above by some more senior academic who rather wants to go in my place, but it's an interesting prospect.
This post apparently brought to you courtesy of tags beginning with the letter "W". I should go and eat something now, I think I'm light-headed.
