Helpful words of reassurance come in from Tim, who wrote before I managed to get off the computer; he says

you didn't nest the brackets (so you should be ok (I hope))

This is good. On the other hand, yesterday he wrote

I have photos of you if you are short.

I am indeed short, therefore you must be in possession of photos. (Logic supplied by Addled Maddle, your drunken correspondent) I'm not quite sure what I was going to write next, so I won't.

To say that I feel blobby is an understatement. I am more than capable of having the Christmas number one single in the year 1993, and am certainly able to irritate the pants off those who watch me. In fact, much of my pulling technique is based on this ability (the pant-removal part, not the Xmas No 1 bit, you understand) (actually, you might not understand, but smile and nod anyway; this is only polite and will appease me enough that I eventually shut up and go away) (you hope)

Ah. Brackets taking over my life. Or at least my writing. Time to stop. G'night.

I've spent much of today feeling confused and disorientated, although I have no idea why. Mind you, I went to Ikea with Ian this afternoon, where it's perfectly legitimate to look dazed and confused, so maybe this morning was just a trial run to get in the right frame of mind. On the other ahnd, it might just have been caused by the presence of a Bomb Disposal Unit lorry outside the Bursar's office this morning... very bizarre!

So much seems to be happening that, despite a large reduction in teaching time, the last two weeks have been frantic. I suspect it's not going to get any easier in the near future either. It's the start of the end of the year and, along with reports, that also means planning for next year. I'm taking responsibility for the Duke of Edinburgh award scheme in school, so I've spent afternoons looking at tents, testing trangias and consulting Langmuir. I'm also getting the opportunity to work in the learning support department, nominally for six lessons a week. The intention is to complete some sort of dyslexia support qualification via a part-time/distance learning sheebang; the logistics of this are proving somewhat elusive at present. Hey ho - I'm sure it'll all come out in the wash!

The end result of all this faff will be slightly less waffle going on here, as I try to get things done before the end of term. Photos etc (as requested by the general populace... well, one or two of you) will be scanned and published when I have time. Until then, you'll just have to imagine it all. Hasta la vista.

Oh no - more ways to waste time when I should be working...

Flipperdy-flapperdy nervous excitement: paperwork, preparation, marking, reports, laundry, tidying, not to mention a big dollop of faffing. Now time for rounders (that most meaningful of sports, more accurately described as cricket for girlies) which is a bit of a giggle but not very strenuous. Oooh stream of consciousness post - making about as much sense as I do in real life. Meh. Time to go...

The day so far:
Teaching (fair to middling)
Lunch (reasonable)
Tidying the flat (like a manic thing with an obsession with hoovering and throwing away old paperwork)
Rainbows (eeek)
Duty (so-so)
More tidying (whip out that duster!)

Rock'n'roll!

The trouble with shopping in a hurry is that you don't spend enough time paying attention to the small details. Today, the small details were these:

* Not all quiches are on the "buy 2 for £2.50" special offer. I grabbed things off the shelves and got to the checkout in record time, only to have an enforced return to the chilled food section to revise my selection.

* I then had problems locating the cocktail sticks (it's my age, you know) so I quickly picked a good-looking assistant to help me in my search. As I dutifully followed him though the aisles, I noticed with horror that his trousers were too short: far too much sockage was on display. It's enough to put a girl off her almond croissants.

Gaaah! "More haste, less speed", as my granny used to say; I think I'd better slow down.

A nice man has just installed my new cooker (after the old one had *ahem* a small accident). Seems like a good excuse to get cooking again!

I think I'm melting.

On a more cheery note, I do have lots of nice photos.

I've just managed to explode chocolate milkshake across my kitchen. Aaargh!

Nice things from today, in an order that is aesthetically pleasing, at least to my untrained eye:

Runny brie

Playing my viola

Walking in the sun

Wensleydale with cranberries

Playing snooker, where "too thin" is a bad thing

My pink top that always attracts compliments (but I'm sure it's nothing to do with the neckline, yer honour!)

I love exam time, in a perverse, teachery sort of way. Most of my classes are busy doing independent revision so I've been able to whittle away some of my woodpile of filing, not to mention paddling in the sea of forward-planning. What's more, the sun's shining. What more can any girl ask?*

* This is a rhetorical question, but if you really want to answer it then use that box o'er there or staple your suggestion to a pigeon and throw it in my direction.

There I was, happily chatting on the phone, when I glanced through my diary to see what delights are lined up next week. Eeeek!! Would you believe it?! Tomorrow morning, before lessons start, is a deadline for end-of-term reports for Upper Sixth! Aaargh!

As you can well imagine, at that point I'd written the grand total of zero reports. I quickly made my apologies to my friend on the other end of the phoneline and settled down to write some reports. However, like many other pieces of sediment, I was soon moved on again by the currents of tea-making and the longshore drift of the mobile; I didn't actually start writing until nearly 11pm. Thankfully I only teach eleven Upper Sixth so I've just finished, but I suspect that long nights of report writing loom ahead - it's just that time of term. Be warned...

This weekend has been blissful: I had nothing planned, so filled the last day and a half with sleeping, eating, drinking and generally carousing. I've spent some quality time by myself, but also spent time doing spontaneous things with friends. I feel good.

See - Star Wars is an educational film! I'm not sure this qualifies me to show it to my classes instead of teaching. Bah!

Today I shall mostly be a hermit.

After teaching all morning, of course.

Mooching through a bookshop in the Bustling Metropolis today, I came across evidence that we are becoming a more matriarchal society...

"Look," says girl to her brother. "Here's the book of Mrs Greedy."

"No - *Mister* Greedy"

"Not it's not, it's Mrs. And here's Mrs Bump. And Mrs Sneeze."

I just ducked my head, hid my smirk and bought a very grown-up book.

Yesterday's prediction was right: I *am* wiped out now. I suspect that it has little to do with strenuous teaching, though, and a lot to do with The Man Who Ate Everything, which was part of this weekend's perfect present. Well, it would be perfect if it weren't for my lack of control when it comes to finishing reading and starting sleeping. I've spent most of today feeling sleepy-yawny and craving food; both are bad things. The present and the present-giver, however, are both good things, so mushn't grumble, I sh'pose!

As half term fades away into the distance, time to update this rambling epic. Where to start? Hmmm...

The end of last half term was even more manic than normal, but the Guider's-bottom-sized To Do list kept me on track and the vast majority of things that needed doing were done. On Friday evening I played in a concert with the school orchestra and assorted soloists (reasonable), then zoomed off in the Madmobile (woosh) to stay here (nice) with random DOGs for Ian and Laura's wedding (good). Much fun and jollity was had by all; Tim's photos, for those interested (or bored and seeking diversion) can be found here. My hair, in all its curly-flicky-redness can be observed here, along with my girlie pink shirt, both of which shocked some people. I suspect that - for some of them at least - it was the first time they'd ever seen me in a skirt. Mua-ha-ha!!

I headed off to Cheltenham on Sunday for a snog, a barbeque, a hot air balloon festival, Duncan the Depressed Octopus, a torrential downpour, a takeaway and a DVD: not all were intentional, but all were good. Well, apart from the DVD, which pitted werewolves against vampires in a most confusing sort of way that was too much for my brain to cope with, but six out of seven ain't bad.

Monday morning started with real potential: a lazy day in the company of friends, complete with cheese rolling, hot Brad action and more snogging. Instead I ended up driving to Exeter and not for pleasant reasons. Judging by the amount of traffic heading in the opposite direction on the M5, I was going the wrong way; based on the support I was able to give on arrival, I was right to keep heading south.

I came back from Exeter via Cheltenham (lunch) and Staffordshire (parents). I took my mum to see some film that I don't think will be much of a hit: it was pleasant enough but - as always - failed to live up to the book. Should have guessed, really. Hey ho - you win some, you lose some.

The kids are back now, and teaching starts again tomorrow. The exeat feels like it's lasted for ages, but I suspect that I'll be wiped out by lunchtime tomorrow. Pish!