(no subject)

It's already 5 pm and I have only just finished my first cuppa since I got home. I sat down at the computer and was bombarded with Very Important Messages. I've done the urgent ones and dinner is on* and now I must do some work.

Before I go write words, let me tell you that the word of the day was somewhat mathematical in origin. I explained it by terrifying my poor students with the thought of Gillian cubed. This was because I was reported on today and felt ironic and squaring and cubing myself was the best response. Why ironic? The organisation in charge of us needed words for their annual report (assessing my classes, mainly) and my students wanted a check on their spelling and grammar before it all gets computerised. The last week of term now includes a reminder in the use of commas, since that appears to be a general problem. All of this goes to show that annual reports serve many uses. And that paragraphs can end in quite different worlds to the ones where they begin.




*What I thought was vegie soup in a tomato base turned out to be tomato and beef stock, so I'm making a spicy sauce for pasta.

(no subject)

I have neither worked nor had my second cuppa. I do feel less tired, however. My spices are (mysteriously and magically) almost sorted and tidy. It's possible, you see, that I bought those extra boxes for them after doing the stationery shop for my students and before doing my dinner party shop. Just possible.

If I eat an early dinner, I can do some writing before the CSFG meeting, otherwise, it will be 2,000 words after it. This is because the words must be written. I can dwell on the beauty of my stacked spices while writing, however. And be impressed that the numbers are so low that I only needed 55 places to put them. I am becoming a model citizen on these matters, for who needs more than 55 spices?