Categories: uncategorized
Date: 02 September 2004 21:10:10
Little Miffy just got home after athletics club, shouting, "I'm in Year 10! I'm in Year 10!" He's relishing the prospect of being top dog seniority wise, as Year 11s are housed over with the school 6th form. Who knows, a prefectship may be his by next summer; dizzy heights indeed when you consider that this time last year he was having such a tough time (or rather the school was having a tough time with him) that we were considering moving him into the Independent sector.
I'm not sure that his sister is as keen on her new position of house captain. Less than 48 hours back, and already she's tense, pale and snappy. With the present system of As/A2s in Year 12/13, there's no scope for any letup in the relentless pressure on the children. There was a brief and glorious respite on results day, but that seems to be about it. That said, she's also determined to show that one can be both brainy and have a social life (her father's due to collect her from London later tonight). Maybe some folk simply thrive on pressure. I don't know.
Little Miffy has also been promoted to chief pill dispenser to the cat when his Dad's absent. This is a permanent regime for gippy kidneys, and requires considerable cunning (and chain mail gloves) to get the nightly pill and squirty paste down the poor animal. Without the latter, we're likely to be greeted by steaming piles of runny substances in places where none should be. As we discovered yesterday evening. :( The duvet dried eventually, and I laid in supplies of Febreeze (antiponging spray) at Superdrug today.)
Glancing through the leaflet detailing the myriad of wonderful and worth courses being held by the area's churches this autumn, I'm wondering why my only response to it all is ummm...... No get up and go, that's my problem. Whether it's time of life, domestic crises (notably the MIL care situation) or impending faith crisis - I can't seem to work up any enthusiasm about organised churchy stuff at all just now. It's like being an outsider. I feel several degrees removed from it.
Ah well. Off to watch Martin Clunes.