* Yesterday I had my lovely year 9s after lunch. The following period I had an extra. (That’s when a teacher is absent for some reason and you have to take their class.)
I’d finished marking the roll, glanced down at the extra and noticed the class number on it.
“Are you guys 9E?” I asked. (I never remember stuff like that.)
“Yes,” they said.
“Really? Then I’ve got you for Science next period,” I said.
What they did then was a total shock.
I got a standing ovation. Clapping, cheering…. it went on for a couple of minutes because, delighted with their own wit when they saw me laugh, they got louder and louder.
Scared the living daylights out of me when it started, because it started spontaneously from all parts of the room. I was expecting a mild, “Oh really? That’ll be nice” from the kids up the front.
(I don’t know what they were expecting… I made them do their Science work. I had year 12 essays on ‘Look Both Ways’ to mark.)
* Proof that the brown hens are smarter than the white ones.
I was out at guitar lessons with Tom1 and Ryan3 and got back well after dark. David2 had taken his ‘baby’ chicks outside when he got home from school, put them in the chicken coop and locked my gerls out. Now that wouldn’y have been a problem, but he went back inside, finished his homework and then became embroiled in a really addictive game on the Playstation. So went night fell and my gerls wanted to put themselves to bed, they had nowhere to go.
When David2 heard me come through the door, asking if anyone had locked up my gerls for the night, he bolted outside. It was pitch black out there. He found the white ones, huddled together in the undergrowth beneath the fig tree, where any marauding fox could get them. The others?
In the dog kennel.
(If we hadn’t have found them, and Molly and Bertie went out later that night to go to bed, imagine their consternation…? Though if they cuddled up to the chooks, it’d be like having a warm feathery doona next to you.)
* I like this picture on Failblog.
That’s one smart kid!
* I have to go and wake the kids (it’s 7.15) and then bake cookies for their lunches. I’ve done it every morning this week. I’m such a tightarse domestic goddess.
(Just a note for the overseas readers…. “tightarse’ is an Australian colloquialism for someone who is excessively frugal.)