Is there a window open?

3°C, SW winds strong. Rain/sleet developing

The best thing about today: early this morning, at 7am, I was out with the dogs and I glanced up. Perhaps I glance up often, perhaps not. But on this occasion there was a meteorite shooting down to the west. It was a bright one too, at least as bright as Jupiter. That object has existed for thousands of millions of years and then ceased to exist in less than a second. It will stay with me for longer than that (the split second, not the millions of years). It may have been a Geminid.

This is the worst kind of weather for my house- the winds have swung round to the South-West so it blows across my house. It feels as if there is a window open somewhere. So far this winter it has blown along the ridgeline which doesn’t drive any draughts in this house. Temperatures are heading down to zero but at least the draw is good on my coal fire.

but 1 week

5°C, heavy showers

One week to go, the workload fails to abate. There was a time when school prep used to decline in the last part of term, a wind-down. Not any more. This is why I dream of a mid-winter holiday that is not spoilt by a commercial spend-orgy. Christmas spoils a perfectly good holiday.
Dogs’ Diner: This cheered me up yesterday in the middle of a three-hour marking binge.

Entrance exam

6°C, clear & calm.

Entrance exam at work. Lots of anxious 10 year olds, and even more 40 something olds (parents). The kids sit an IQ test after their parents have dropped them off. By the time they have finished, the sun is down. At 3.30, I was sitting at my desk invigilating my room of 24. The blinds were open to a view of the main car-park. As dusk drew in, the colour drained out of everything, the air became slightly misty and all contrast & textures were gone. But then I noticed something. The car park has a large metal gate which was open and a couple of figures had appeared. They stood there, gazing in our direction, unmoving, waiting. Later, others appeared, in small groups, or maybe one by one. Eventually, they formed a continuous outline of heads and shoulders, all in silhouette, all gazing in our direction.

It was pure Hitchcock. The parents had arrived.