Jack had an accident at school today involving his eye and another boy's head!  

Yob Culture

Another example of anti-social behaviour in today's world, more specifically, my part of the world:

My youngest son and I went to do some shopping at our local Tesco. When we were leaving, a young man was standing in the entrance shouting "Bitch!" at one of the girls working a till. He looked like he was ready to pounce, the way a boxer does while waiting to throw a punch, so I got Jack out of there as quickly as possible.

From where I was putting the shopping into the boot of my car, I could hear how the guy wanted to buy a case of beer, but he didn't have any ID on him to prove he was over 18. He looked about the same age as my daughter -- 16 -- so that didn't surprise me. One of his friends did have some ID, and the cashier was happy to sell that guy the beer.

That wasn't good enough for the yob. He had to scream profanities and make threats until a police officer was able to get him to leave. As he walked away with his friends, he continued to yell at the store, at the police, at the world in general.

What makes people do things like that?

Another Sports Day

It's come early this year, but Ricky and Jack have had their Sports Day at school. Jack's was yesterday with the Infants, and Ricky's was today with the Juniors. Thank heavens they'll both be in Juniors next year!

Jack spent more time trying to entertain the crowd than run fast, but he did win the egg and spoon race.







Ricky tried his hardest, but his long skinny legs just didn't seem to want to go the direction he wanted them to! He still came second in the rope skipping and the football races though.







I could have taken pictures of Ricky and Jack's dad running in the Dad's Race, but I didn't. I'm not that cruel. I use the word "running" loosely. It was more like falling flat on his face. I'm sure he'll appreciate me mentioning it, though.

What Is This Saying to Young Women?

The battle to convince young women that curves are natural and healthy gets harder and harder. Take the recently published pictures of the actress Lindsay Lohan, showing a stick-thin girl who looks as if a small breeze would knock her down. Photographers weren't even impressed because they moved around to get pictures from the front, where there was a bit more area-space to photograph.



So much for looking like a "real woman". Real women don't look like that. Real women have curves, stretch marks, love handles, buddha bellies and cellulite. Obese is not good either, but young women aspire to look like celebrities, and Lohan is no real model for the perfect figure.

Race For Life is Tomorrow!

A shameless plug ...

But it's for a good cause!

Malorie and I are "running" (more like walking) the 5K Race for Life for Cancer Research UK tomorrow, and we're trying to get as many donations as possible. So if you have a bit of cash to spare, click on the link to our page and give as much as you can!

You can make donations through their secure server. I never see a penny of it so you can be sure it's going to the charity.

Malorie is doing this in memory of her grandmother, who died almost two years ago. I'm doing it in memory of my great-grandmother, who survived breast cancer in the 1970s, and was a very strong woman. She lived until 1989, and I never heard her complain once after her radical mastectomy.

Anyway, here's the link: http://www.raceforlifesponsorme.org/melinda_and_malorie

I'll post some pictures when we get back tomorrow -- unless I'm in a total state of collapse!

Celebs Who Can't Dress

My goodness, where do celebrities learn to dress? Or do they? Please tell me they don't do this intentionally ...

Meg Mathews (ex-wife of Noel Gallagher from Oasis):




There's more, but I'm too scared to post them ...

Victoria Beckham (who doesn't always look "hot" despite what some men think)

20 Year Reunion

This weekend is my graduating class' 20 year reunion. The Class of 1985 from North Garland High School is getting together to celebrate the fact that we're growing old.

I, for one, won't be there.

I went to my 10 year reunion, and I had a good laugh. The people who were my friends back then when we were young and foolish were still my friends, and the people who were popular and too good for the likes of me still seemed to think they were too good for the likes of me. I was hoping to go to this one to see if they'd been brought down a peg or two.

I did notice that all those girls who skipped drill team practice (while I sweated away with high kicks and jump splits) to go lie on tanning beds looked like they were already in their late 30s in 1995, while I was still getting carded when I bought beer. That's good enough to keep me out of the sun without sunscreen.

I would have gone to this reunion, too, if the organisers had been kind enough to give those of us living overseas (of which I'm sure there are a few -- there were in 1995) time to make arrangements. Unfortunately, they weren't that thoughtful. Had they held it in the autumn during Homecoming like they did in 1995, I could have made it.

Most of all I really wanted to catch up with a few people. Fortunately there are those I keep in touch with by email: Rick Reynard, Matha Harris, Harold Pickett, Shun Goosby, Seleta Earhart ... But I was hoping to find my best friend from all those years ago, Elizabeth Castillo. And I need Eric Zahn's new email address! Hopefully they'll have some kind of directory with up-to-date info in it.

So, instead of rushing out tonight to hang out in a bar with a lot of people who probably don't remember me, a lot of people who probably do but don't care, and a few people I miss a lot, I'm going to crack open a bottle of something nice here at home and toast the Class of '85 from my living room.

At least they can't see how much weight I've gained!

Mitch the Dog

The jealous dog 

Monty the Dragon

Another picture of Monty 

Lucky Kid

Our local government strikes again. Months ago the school crossing lady for my youngest sons' school had to quit because she's gone back to college, and the council hasn't managed to hire anyone to replace her in all this time. For a while they sent a supervisor-type person to fill in, then they suddenly stopped.

My kids' school is only a tiny little Victorian-built church-school in a cul-de-sac, but the cul-de-sac leads off a main road. There is a flashing light warning motorists to slow down to 20 mph, but most of them don't do it because there's never any enforcement. So the kids have to cross the main road without a lollipop lady to get to the bus, if they take the bus.

Yesterday, my youngest came home from school in tears. His best friend Lewis was crossing the main road and was hit by a car. Jack saw it happen. He's convinced that Lewis is going to be in hospital for a long time and then have to be in a wheelchair, but the hubby, who was also there with his ice cream van, said Lewis got up and walked out of the road, then collapsed probably due to shock. He had a bump on his head and a cut leg. He's a lucky little boy. Some of the drivers go through there at 50 mph, even though it's normally a 30 mph zone, and 20 before and after school.

Let's hope the council pulls their finger out and gets something done before a child is killed.

Oh, and he wasn't crossing the road to get to the ice cream van. Simon intentionally parks it on the side of the road where the school is so no one has to cross the road.

The truth about the US Grand Prix -- at last! From the Indianapolis Star 

Meet Montoya

When we went to the garden centre a couple of weeks ago to order my "shed", there was a sign saying "For Assistance, Please Go to the Reptile Centre". So we did. The assistant was helping a lady get some frozen white mice to take home for her snake, and while we were waiting, we had a wander round. They had all kinds of snakes, some lizards and some tarantulas.

I made the comment that if I had to choose, I'd much rather have a snake than a tarantula. Suddenly Simon is pricing up equipment to buy me a snake. I said he didn't have to do that, and he said one day he'd like to have one of the baby bearded dragons. Somehow (and why, I don't know) I convinced him to forget getting me a snake and save up to buy one of the dragons.

We brought him home yesterday.

So meet Montoya (Monty for short), a seven week old bearded dragon.



I have to say he's a real cutie!

Two Scientific Studies Regarding Sex?

It's amazing the things you can learn from news stories from "legitimate" sources.

This afternoon I received an email from my husband with the subject heading "I told you it was good for you". In the email there was a link, so I clicked on it, assuming it was taking me to some quirky website with cartoon characters and goofy singing. On the contrary, it took me to CNN.com, and it was an article titled, "Study: Fellatio may significantly decrease the risk of breast cancer in women". My second assumption was that the person reporting this study would be a male doctor. Unless his mother risked her son being ridiculed all his life by giving him the name Helena, that was wrong, too.

Simon latched onto one particular sentence in the CNN report:

The University researchers stressed that, though breast cancer is relatively uncommon, any steps taken to reduce the risk would be a wise decision.

I decided to investigate. I clicked on one of the other links on the CNN website, and guess what? This is a spoof. Thank heavens, because I've had Simon following me around all day saying, "Honey, I don't want you to get breast cancer ..."

The second study is one I found myself on the SkyNews.com website. It says that women's brains experience a shut down effect during orgasms so that fear and stress don't interfere. Men's brains don't experience this effect because their orgasms are so much shorter.

That I can definitely believe.

I also did a bit of research to be sure that this is not just a second spoof that has somehow found it's way onto the Sky News website. There really is a University of Groningen and there really is a Dr. Gert Holstege, and the same news story is on the BBC website! The BBC, however, gives a bit more info than Sky News. The scan they used in the study can also be used to show whether a woman is faking an orgasm.

I don't know about you, but I don't think trying to have sex during a scan is my idea of romantic.

Something else they found in the study is that cold feet can prevent an orgasm. After they gave the couples in their study socks, 80% achieved orgasm, compared to 50% with bare feet.

No, that's not very romantic either. "Sorry darling, I love you but can you take the socks off in bed?"

Heat Wave!

I can tell I have become used to the English weather! We're having a bit of a heatwave here, but if I were back in Texas, this would be considered more of a cool snap! When did the thermometer hitting 25 C (77 F) become hot to me?

They say that only mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the mid-day sun. Sunny days like today prove it!

Money For Nothing

My two older kids want spending money. Fair enough. If Malorie wants to grow her ass to be the size of mine by spending £10 a week on chocolate, it's her ass. If Braden wants to buy winter clothes in the summer just because they make him look cool, it's his sweat.

I wish they'd get it through their thick heads that money doesn't grow on trees and, since I have to work for my money, they have to work for theirs. They don't have to do much. We have a "rota" so that they alternate chores, and they're not exactly hard chores.

Empty and load the dishwasher. Dishwasher? They complain because we have a dishwasher. They'd complain louder if we didn't have one.

Pick up dog poo. The dog does most of his poo-ing when he goes for walks on the fields, so there's just the occasional clump.

Take out the rubbish. One small kitchen bin. There's another small one in the bathroom that rarely has anything in it. Ditto for the one in my bedroom.

Walk the dog. They're the ones who wanted the dog in the first place, and I told them they had to walk him before we brought him home.

Clean the kitchen floor. Not mop it. I do that. Just make sure the dog food is picked up off the floor and use the little sponge mop thing to wipe up any muddy footprints tracked in.

Then they each have chores specific to them. Malorie gets extra money for cleaning up the ice cream van when Simon gets home from work. He doesn't even work every day, and some days business is so slow there's not much to clean up. Braden gets extra money for ripping up the cardboard boxes that the ice cream and ice lollies come in. Braden takes the wheelie bin round to the front the night before trash collection. Malorie empties the drier and takes the clothes upstairs.

That's it. So does this seem unreasonable? I don't think so, not when they actually get money in return. But it's performance related pay. They ignore their chores, they lose some of their money.

I think that's fair.

F1 Farce

I couldn't believe what I was seeing and hearing yesterday. Six cars on the grid in the US Grand Prix in Indianapolis. Two Ferraris heading off into the sunset for a one-two podium finish; the four cars that usually run at the back of the grid trailing around behind.

Who do I blame? The FIA. In the past couple of years, they have changed the rules in order to suit themselves and the sponsors, and they have forgotten the fans.

The first stupid change was single lap qualifying. I used to love watching qualifying. Okay, so at the start of the session there were usually only one or two cars going around the track, but that was okay because I knew that there would be a lot of excitement on track while everyone flew around at once and took the risks of being caught up in traffic. TV cameras did a pretty good job of showing whoever was going fastest at the time. If you were at the track, you couldn't see everything anyway, so what was the point of changing it just because of TV coverage? Sponsors. It didn't matter what the fans thought. The sponsors wanted equal air time, and the "lesser" teams at the back of the grid like the Jordans and Minardis weren't getting an equal showing.

The second stupid change was having an engine last first for one race weekend, now for two. It hasn't been as much of a fiasco as I thought it would be, but I seriously doubt that there has been any cost savings involved, which was the reason given for the new rule. Manufacturers have had to spend more money trying to figure out how to make the engines more reliable!

But the change that I find the most thoughtless was the rule banning tyre changes for the whole weekend. Saturday morning the teams have to pick the tyres they want to run, and that's it. Why do I find this thoughtless? It's dangerous. Just look at Kimi Raikkonen's crash at the European Grand Prix a few weeks ago. He knew his tyre was on the verge of blowing and had been damaged for quite a few laps, but because of the penalties involved in changing it, the team left it. When it caused a failure in his car, not only did Kimi have a spectacular crash, but he came within inches of taking Jenson Button out with him.

Flashback to the Australian Grand Prix of 2001. Jacques Villeneuve had a crash, which he walked away from, but one of the tethers that was supposed to keep his tyre attached to the car broke, and a marshall was killed. To me, this new tyre rule risks just such an accident.

I don't blame the Michelin teams for not running yesterday. The farce was created by the FIA and their resistance to compromise. Forget the chicane the teams asked for to slow down the high speeds into the last, and most dangerous, corner of the Indy track. They wouldn't even accept letting the Michelin teams change their tyres and run either at the back of the grid behind the Ferraris, Jordans and Minardis, but the teams also offered to run and receive no points, no matter what their finishing positions! What would that have harmed? The fans would have had the pleasure of seeing on-track battles for position instead of one measly encounter between Schumacher and Barrichello when Schumacher came out of his second pit stop.

Unlike a lot of people, I can't blame the Ferraris for running. It's not their fault. I haven't heard any of the team principles state that they blame Ferrari, and usually they are the first to do so. They've been pointing the finger at the FIA, and so do I.

Answers to Gary's Questions

I thought this was worthy of it's own post instead of just responding to his comment with another comment.

That looks like a really damned small office. :P But you probably know better than I do. How big is it, by the way?

Yep, it's damned small. Eight foot by six foot. But there's room for my craft stuff, my study stuff (I've left all the "good" books in the house where there's less chance of something happening to them), and me. Too much room and I don't have the excuse of there not being enough room when the kids try to invade.

Oh, and is it well-ventilated?

It is when I open the door.

And air-conditioned?

In England? Who has air conditioning in England? We don't even have it in the house! And on days like today, I wish we did ...

And heated?

I have a space heater.

Does it have plumbing?

Can't you see the toilet under the desk? *rolls eyes*

Have I asked you enough questions?

I'm used to it. I have kids.

Or should I ask more?

I can tune you out.

Will one more do?

You do remind me of the kids. I'd send you to your room but I suspect you're already there.

How about another?

La la la la la la la I can't hear you.

It's Finished!

I'm absolutely wrecked but thought I'd post photos of the "finished" product. All I have left to do is sort out what of my notes from the past two years of Law and Criminology I want to keep, organise them into binders, put them in the office and throw those I don't want into the recycling bag. I need to take my desk chair out there as soon as we get the wireless network set up because there's no way I can sit on that little stool for very long! I took it out there mainly in case I'm doing crafts with a friend or one of the kids.

It's been really hot, too, so I've blown up like a balloon with elephant-sized ankles, but I got the job done. It started out as white on the interior, but I soon realised it was going to take about five coats of white paint to look right, so I cracked open a tin of leftover paint from when I did the kitchen. It looks kind of like robin egg blue in the pics but it's actually a kind of light turquoise. Funny how pictures change the colours a bit.

It's Up!

My home office is here, and it's all put together and ready to be decorated to my own particular, and probably peculiar, taste! It took hardly any time at all to set up, surprisingly, and that's probably down to our friend Graham's expertise. He's the English version of Tim the Toolman.

I did my fair share. Actually, I voluntarily did the hardest bit and sent Simon to the shop to get the silicon he wanted for the windows. That'll teach him to be sexist. Graham and I put the roof on without his help. That'll teach me not to let Simon be sexist.

I spent all evening putting a wood treatment on everything inside it. Tomorrow I'm going to paint. For now, here are a few pics. More will follow tomorrow, I'm sure.


We asked Malorie to hold onto the back wall. She thought she was helping. Actually it kept me from tripping over her, bless her.


Graham works and Simon watches ...


And Graham works while Simon watches ...


Graham kept working while Simon and Malorie watched.


I think Simon was determined to keep holding it up in case it fell. He Doesn't have much faith in Graham's handiwork, I guess.

Life's So Unfair ...

I got really excited for a bit there. Simon and I thought we could get tickets to either Friday practice or Saturday qualifying for the British Grand Prix. We decided to save the money and not go to the race itself, but you used to be able to buy tickets for individual days.

Not anymore. *sigh* It's either £95 each for race day or £135 each for the whole weekend (general admission, of course). Simon says we'll just have to wait until next year.

*another sigh*

Parents Are Suckers

What will my kids' school think of next? This latest fund raiser has to be a low blow. It's called the "Art Exhibition".

All the students did self-portraits. The school had all the pictures matted and framed, and they were displayed in the school hall, complete with refreshments. Only it didn't end there. How could I resist two sets of blue eyes looking up at me in expectation? How could I say no, I didn't want to purchase their art work and hang it on my wall at home? It takes a heartless parent to do that.

The schools are getting devious.

Song List

I've been putting together a list of some of my favourite songs on my Puddled Stuff space on MSN. I've only cracked the surface because I keep stopping to see if I can pick up some CDs of my favourites cheap on either Amazon or eBay! I've ordered one by 38 Special and one by Dokken. Heaven help me if I keep trying to build up this list! My CD collection will explode.

Almost Here -- Brian McFadden
Alone -- Heart
Alone Again -- Dokken
Boulevard of Broken Dreams -- Green Day
Breaking the Chains -- Dokken
Caught Up In You -- 38 Special
Don't Fear The Reaper -- Blue Oyster Cult
Dreams -- Van Halen
Gangsta's Paradise -- Coolio
Higher Power -- Boston
Hold On Loosely -- 38 Special
I Only Wanna Be With You -- Hootie and the Blowfish
I Want to Know What Love Is -- Foreigner
Lick It Up -- Kiss
Love Your Way -- Powderfinger
Only Time Will Tell -- Asia
Open Arms -- Journey
Thank You -- Jamelia
Treat Me Right -- Pat Benatar

I've left all my Def Leppard faves off this list because they're a list of their own, which I've already put together on the other site. I also have a list of my friend Pete's songs because he's a wonderful musician and totally undiscovered. He's even written a song "for" me. Well, it has my name on it anyway. He has his own site where people can have a listen.

One More Day!

Simon called into the garden centre where I ordered my "office" to see if they could give him a firm delivery date. The guy said they were so backlogged, it'll be at least three weeks!

But ... the man added, "I've got one all ready to go out back. We can deliver it tomorrow".

Finally a place of my own. Or at least a place for all my crap.

Jackson Found Innocent

I'm disgusted. For one, I'll never buy any more Michael Jackson products, I don't care how good they are and no matter what the jury decided.

Can they prosecute the parents who let their kids sleep in the same bed with a man in his 40s? Just for sheer stupidity if nothing else.

Jackson Verdict!

I just heard they've reached a verdict. It hasn't been announced yet, but it won't be long until it is.

I hope he's found guilty. I wish he'd get psychiatric help, but I've paid attention to the evidence and there's definitely something not right with this guy where young boys are concerned.

The fans who won't entertain the thought that he's guilty have given me a laugh though. They're so not in this plane of reality!

Teenagers! Sheesh! Part 2

***** Warning: If you're a teenager, don't read this because you'll just get pissed off and leave me comments that make me feel guilty, and I really can do without that at the moment. I do realise that I am making sweeping generalisations that do not fit with the whole world, so I am ranting and raving about the idiots that I come into contact with in my own little part of the planet. If you are one of the teenagers living near me, particularly those I am acquainted with, then I probably am blogging about you and I don't apologise. To everyone else, I do. *****

Okay, I can't let this one lie ... How, in one generation, did teenagers become so damn STUPID?????? Why do they have to wage war against each other for no apparent reason, or for reasons that are so non-sensical they are hard to comprehend? My daughter was assaulted at her school because she evidently looked at another girl funny. And that's considered a valid reason for assault amongst a lot of her schoolmates!

When did teenagers decide that the world owes them rather than they need to work for what they want? Hard work? No chance. They want everything given to them on a platter. Designer gear, iPods, MP3 players, etc. I know one teenager who complains that his dad doesn't spend a fortune on him at Christmas, even though the family doesn't have a fortune to spend, and I know other families who increase their debt every year to buy things for their teens. Are those teens thankful? Nope. They see it as their right.

And rules? What rules? Those of us parents who care enough to make rules have them thrown back in our faces half the time and ignored the other half! Simple things like look both ways before you cross the street are rules not worth paying attention to. I'm not lying here, I have lost count of the number of teenagers I could have killed if I hadn't slammed on my brakes and thanked God I make my own kids wear seat belts in the car. They just don't look because they've been told that paedestrians have the right of way.

Some parents don't even bother with rules. No rules at home, so why should they follow the rules of society? Kids pass my house late at night (or should I say early in the morning?), and if I have my windows open, you can hear them shouting every swear word they know just to make themselves sound important. They aren't important. They just sound stupid to me.

Okay, my rant here probably hasn't made a lot of sense, but these kids need two things: 1) a sense of responsibility; 2) discipline. I don't mean beat them, but there are so many who don't seem to have a sense of responsibility, either for other people or their own actions. Nothing is their fault, and I'm fed up of it.

Teenagers! Sheesh!

Where did these monsters come from? Not too long ago, there were three nice little kids who fought amongst themselves but weren't too badly behaved. Now, in their places, three horrible creatures have appeared!

Okay, one of them isn't too bad. He generally does as he's told, he gets along with almost everyone except his sister, and he pays attention to his curfew.

The female of the group is a lot of trouble. She ignores her curfew, doesn't do her chores, chases every boy she sets eyes on, and upsets most of the other females her age. Today she's called someone a bitch and now has the sister of the person she called a bitch chasing her around the estate threatening bodily harm.

The youngest of the group had me pulling my hair out all weekend. He's here one day a week and still manages to cause me ulcers. This weekend he showed up with his hair dyed in a weird pattern, he ignored his curfew because he knows I can't ground him if he's only here one day a week, and he only did some work in the garden with the others when I had the camera trained on him! Or at least when he knew I had the camera on him ... I got the real story in pics from an upstairs window!







I'd trade them in for younger models, but their just so darn cute!

Diary Entry

1.46 pm I keep forgetting about this blog ...

Most of my posts have been in my Scrambled Mind blog because I never seem to have anything interesting to put in here, but I'll try to do better.

The kids have been driving me nuts, as usual. Malorie keeps ignoring me when I tell her what time to be in, so instead of grounding her, I've been withholding spending money. That's got her attention. Unfortunately it doesn't work with Daniel. He doesn't do any jobs around the house, so he doesn't get spending money like they do. He knows we can't ground him really, though now that he's got a girlfriend who lives on our estate, he might pay a bit more attention. Last night he and Braden went out, and I told them to be in at nine because we had some things to do. We've been working really hard in the garden to get it ready for my "shed"/"chalet"/"office", which will be here in just over a week. Braden came in at nine. Daniel came in 45 minutes later. Simon actually shouted at him. Now I'll bet he doesn't come back for at least a month.

I'm on some seriously icky anti-biotics at the moment. A few months ago, February I think, I found a little lump on the back of my neck. I thought maybe it was a spot or a mole, so I just left it. It didn't go away, so I knew it wasn't a spot, and I kept checking it just to be on the safe side. I didn't go to the doctor for it because it didn't grow and didn't hurt, so I figured I'd just have it looked at the next time I went in for something else.

Then last weekend, it blew up like a balloon and started hurting like the devil. After almost a week of no sleep, I went to see the doctor on Friday. It's a cyst that's become infected. Nothing serious, he said, but if it got infected this time, it'll probably do it again, so after these anti-biotics have done the trick, it'll need removing. At least it's in my hairline on the back of my neck where no one would see a scar, if there was one. For now I just feel really sick from these meds because he said this thing needed some really strong ones.

Foundations

I took some pics of the work being done (by us, obviously) of the "foundation" going down for my office out in the back garden.


Simon tried to make it look effortless, but that's only because I had the camera out!


Braden got to mix the cement. Well, he's bigger than I am and has stronger muscles!


Malorie put my gardening gloves on and grabbed a shovel. Then she stood there for a few minutes, said she was getting thirsty from the work, and disappeared!


And Simon puts down the first slab!

A Royal Letter

In today's post I received a thank you letter from a secretary or an assistant to the Prince of Wales and Duchess of Cornwall! I sent a card when they got married. Hey, I'm a romantic at heart, and I thought it was great that they finally tied the knot. I don't care who someone is, they deserve to be happy. Face it, look at Henry VIII's track record, and he didn't bring the monarchy to an end!

New Office -- Coming Soon

New Office -- Coming Soon
Originally uploaded by mkknowles.

It'll be here in 10 days! Not the one in the pic, that's just the "showroom model" they had on display. The real thing should be here very soon, and I can move all my crafts and study things out into my own space!

Sorry about the picture quality. I took it using a tiny little digital camera I got free with my subscription to the CSI DVD collection, and the view finder on it isn't very accurate. I should have pictures of the real thing before too long.

Another Horrorscope

Today's horrorscope says, "Cheating on your diet is not allowed".

Damn, that's half the fun on being on a diet in the first place: partaking of forbidden fruit. Or in my case, not eating the fruit and going for the chocolate and biscuits instead!

Academic Disappointment

I'm crushed.

Yesterday I got my results for my three criminology assignments I handed in in April. In criminological research methods, I didn't do great, but this was the hated and dreaded assignment using statistics and all that kind of stuff I don't like. Averaged with the first semester assignment, I'm quite pleased with the final result.

Likewise with criminological theory. I worked my ass off on that one because I chose to do theoretical explanations of domestic violence. The score I got on that wasn't as high as I would have liked, but I think I let my passion for the subject make me lose sight of the actual question we were supposed to be answering. Again, combined with the first semester's exam grade, I did pretty well.

But I could scream over my criminal justice systems mark. No, I take it back. It's not the mark that bothers me half as much as the comments the person who marked it scribbled on. Or should I say lack of comments. There was no constructive criticism whatsoever, only a brief sentence that it was not an "appropriate academic style". That's funny, it's the style I've used for the past 20 years in academia, through my first BA, my graduate studies, and two years of my current BA studies, and I have never had anyone tell me that my style is anything but of a high academic standard.

What gets me even more is that it was marked by someone other than my tutor, someone who lectured to us on the Probation Service with such venom and single mindedness that she left us in no doubt as to her bias. She told us she had an opinion on the matter and, as far as she was concerned, it was the only correct opinion. I have no problem with people being passionate about their opinions whatsoever, even if the opinion is the total opposite to mine. What I had a problem with was her assertion that no other opinion would be entertained.

And of all the subjects I had to chose, I researched the Probation Service.

Ahhh, well. I asked for someone else to look at it and my grade stands. I'm disappointed, but this won't stop me. I will work twice as hard next year. I'll show them!

Duck Family Day Out

Duck Family Day Out
Originally uploaded by mkknowles.

Daddy Duck, Mummy Duck and two Ducky Kids going for a swim.

At Day at the Country Park

The first thing the little guys said when we got out of the car was, "Mum, look at those big white ducks!"

They were swans.

We spent most of our walk dodging around horse droppings in the path, which serves as a riding trail, bike trail and footpath.

In the first pic, we live in the large group of houses above Braden's head. You could almost draw a line straight up from Jack's right knee and point directly to our house.