It's blowing a gale out there, and tipping down the rain, and partly, I love it. Partly it arouses other feelings in me best left unwritten (I know, it's probably a Freudian weird thing).
I'm watching Secret Millionaire. I like that too. I've watched some random stuff tonight, ANTM, obviously, then Samantha Who, and now Secret Millionaire. I won't watch all of it, and it's part of me getting myself used to having the tv on again for when he's away.
I hate him being away. But I'm not thinking about that yet. It's not yet.
Today was what teaching should be about. We learnt, we laughed, we played, we enjoyed what we were learning, and the children had ownership of what they had done. I was proud of them, their achievements, and this afternoon, they were proud of me for dancing, for making a fool of myself in front of them, for all sorts of reasons we were happy with each other.
Isn't that what living is about?
But I'm off to sleep soon. The evening has trickled away again, and I've done some work and written some stuff, and got on with pottering about and so on. R is not in work until 12 so he is going to do some things in the house first before he goes to work.