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Jul. 21st, 2017 11:28 am
cabbagemedley: (Default)
[personal profile] cabbagemedley
I'm having endless fun today watching Signs of the Times episodes on BBC iPlayer. Lots of people in 1992 sitting around talking about their interior design choices. Hilarious and oddly comforting. The bit I'm watching right now is an Alan Bennettish scene of two antique/repro lovers telling the Very Funny Story of how they acquired their Very Old Toilet Seat.

Soph has gone off for her last day at infant school. Juniors in September! I shed a little tear on the way home - I've walked to that school so many times and by the time Egdog goes they are planning to have a whole new building. Feels like about five minutes since we were looking round the attached nursery with two-year-old Soph and worrying whether she'd be out of nappies in time.

Egdog has lots of new words. He woke up this morning, saw raindrops all over the window and screeched 'Oh nooo! Dirty!' I'm enjoying curling up indoors with a cardie on, though.

(no subject)

Jul. 19th, 2017 01:07 pm
cabbagemedley: (Default)
[personal profile] cabbagemedley
Well, my OU Module result was a pass 2 in the end (2:1 equivalent), which is fine and still gets me the first I wanted overall, provided I pass 60 more credits of something. But the final essay (which is what some modules do instead of an exam) only scored 67% which at the OU is a 2:2. It doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things but I'm still gutted. Especially since, looking at the mark breakdown, one of the areas I scored low in was "Clearness of expression and use of academic conventions". I just reread the essay - and I don't want to be that student who can't accept they fucked up - but it reads fine. And my referencing is all there, thorough and consistent and exactly the way I've been doing it all year. There must have been something they didn't like but I can't identify it and that makes me feel stupid.

I don't mind being told I got it wrong, but I hate not understanding what I got wrong. :( And I'm worried about doing it again. I've got another year to go and I'm hoping to do an MA after.
spatch: [Don Music] (Don Music)
[personal profile] spatch
"Well, you walk around on two legs, that's wonderful."
"What's so wonderful? Your spine is made of rubber, that's wonderful."
"What's so wonderful? First you lick your own butt..."

"OH, THE DIVIDENDS ARE SWEETER FROM SOMEBODY ELSE'S TECH STOCKS--
OH, THE SAND IS ALWAYS NEATER IN SOMEBODY ELSE'S LITTER BOX"


exeunt, pursued by kander and ebb

(no subject)

Jul. 15th, 2017 01:28 pm
cabbagemedley: (Default)
[personal profile] cabbagemedley
I've let my paid LJ account expire - I am there to read about three journals now so it doesn't seem worth paying for, not when personal fun money is tight. So now I just have the free version with adverts. I thought I might lose my image hosting there (I couldn't seem to find a page that tells you exactly what benefits each level of account has) so I went through and painstakingly downloaded any photos I wanted to keep. It's expired now and they are all still there so that was a false alarm, but never mind.

I did keep quite a lot, but was a bit surprised how unsentimental I felt about most of them. Ditto old journal entries - I don't enjoy reading them at all. I do like keeping it there so that I can look back at specific events, when the kids were born and so on. But the older posts are all brittle and posturing and whiny. I'm really glad I don't have to be an early-twenty-something again.

(no subject)

Jul. 10th, 2017 10:50 pm
cabbagemedley: (Default)
[personal profile] cabbagemedley
The kids have deaded me today.

Egdog was flailing around for breastmilk ('Mung! Mung!') from sunrise onwards. Sophie got out of bed but hid under a throw on the sofa and wouldn't speak to anyone about breakfast. After much coaxing/begging/threatening she asked for a golden syrup sandwich. Reader, I made it for her.

Then she got upset on the way to school about an older boy who had been mean to her a year ago and might be mean again when she goes up to the juniors in September - which is a valid worry! But I can't very well ask her current teacher to tell him off for something he did last year, or for something he hasn't done yet, so I had to do more coaxing and persuaded her that we would not act on this worry today, we would see how things went in September, and we would speak to her new teacher straight away if this boy caused any problems. She reluctantly went into school. Then Egdog fell over and got a bloody lip.

Egdog grumped around for ages before he would go down for his daytime nap, and when he finally did I immediately got nobbled by the Jehovah's fecking Witnesses.

School opened its doors in the afternoon for parents to come in and see the kids' work. Soph showed me and Egdog around, which was lovely except for Egdog's desire to riot in the classroom. So I spent most of it saying strained polite things while he dragged me round in circles (did I mention he pulled part of his elbow out of place last week and we had to go to A&E to get it clicked back, so now I'm paranoid about pulling on his hand too hard and all this is done with me clutching his upper arm). We left. Sophie took fifteen minutes to collect a school bag, a cello and a coat from the cloakroom.

We went to the park. Sophie had a minor spat with a friend (not entirely friend's fault) and sobbed. Egdog tried very hard to run in front of moving swings and get brained while a friend of mine was trying to tell me difficult heartfelt things about a relative with dementia.

We came home. Snacks were required. A variety of snacks. Every time I sat down someone needed another goddamn motherfucking snack.

Sophie's friend next door knocked for her and she went over. I plonked Egdog in front of autoplaying Ben and Holly while I tried to stick my brain back together. At tea time I went to reclaim Sophie. She was arsing about in her friend's onesie. She could not find her socks or her hairband. We gave up and came home.

After tea, homework! Homework is hard to focus on. We thought of adjectives for every letter of the alphabet. You can tell where we resorted to the dictionary because it suddenly goes XENOPHOBIC YAMMERING ZARATHUSTRIAN. Picture this taking place on the sofa while Egdog climbs up my knees wailing 'Mung! Mung!'

Owl takes pity on me and sends me upstairs for a break. Sophie is dissuaded from following me with homework. Ten minutes later it is bedtime. She bursts into my room and demands to make a Powerpoint presentation about pets instead. I say no. She flops around mournfully.

I read her a bedtime story after lots more flopping and claiming that she didn't WANT a story except now she DID. She pretends to fall asleep and snores loudly while I try to read.

She gets into bed. Five minutes later she wails for me because her feet are sticking out of her mosquito net. I rearrange the net and pop to the loo. It transpires she has daubed the bathroom door and doorhandles (inside and out) with toothpaste. I pop back upstairs and firmly correct her understanding of toothbrushing protocol.

Then I come downstairs to start cooking dinner for me and Owl. She comes downstairs because she is frightened of scary rabbits. I do not scream.

She is in bed. Egdog is asleep. I cook dinner. I pass Owl his plate. I sit down with my plate. Egdog wakes up and cries for mung.

Soph has been a STAR recently. Glowing school report! She swam 250 metres in total at the weekend, and this is the girl who was too scared to get in the water! So tonight I'm concetrating hard on how proud I am. Proud. So proud.

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