9°C, rain, but less of it. CA20
That’s no metaphor, it really is dark. There are thick thick clouds overhead bearing rain that must be destined for somewhere else on this island. The news is full of floods and yet the drought still goes on. Here, everything is wet, roads are black with wet and the air- thick, rich scent. I suppose the plants are happy. Listen to Nils Frahm
Today I finally relented and issued (un-moderated) coursework grades to my Year 11 class. They are nervous, some refused to have the mark which I respected. There is nothing they can do about it anyway. Some insisted that I don’t read out the marks, that’s alright too, so I hold the printout with my thumb next to the relevant score on the sheet. The last kid can’t see where she’s supposed to be looking- it’s next to my right thumb. Still confused I clarify-the thumb that’s connected to my right hand. No better, so finally- the hand that’s furthest from the window. 68.