Discovery!

I have hit upon a method of ensuring a more balanced response to returned Anglo-Saxon essays. Normally, I read them through from the begining, become dismayed by all the very obvious errors therein, and grow so cranky at myself that by the time i get to the nice comments at the end I don't believe "well done, excellently researched essay with some great ideas". Then I stomp around the house for interminable lengths of time, cranky with myself for obvious errors, wishing i could be angry at my awesome teacher for being right, and wondering why i didn't stick with nice granddad lecturers who return essays with "well done Amy, you got 84 things right, but you discount Adela of Blois" and little more. And I write entries like this.

Melanie returned my essay on Þyncan yesterday. My new Balanced Approach entails me not looking at the essay immediately. In fact, it entails me not looking at it at all until both Kate and I are home. Then I get Kate to get the essay, flip it open to the back, tell me what the mark is and read me the comments at the end. Only when I have properly internalised this positive overall feedback am I allowed to read the detailed constructive comments. (And if the overall feedback turned out to be negative, then, well... I was going to be really really cranky anyway, wasn't I?)

As a result, today I am alternately stomping and smiling my way around my room.

The Sky

The sky is a bowl. A deep, blue veil hugging the skyline.
Tonight the trees dwarf the sandstone. They cradle these monuments to human pride in their leafy fingers. The moon glimmers in the viscous blue and trails down onto the grass.
People are tucked away in the corners- fairy lights tangled around the ageless boughs, voices chattering. Somewhere, a drumming thrumming heartbeat throbs. The mown lawns might have grown that way. The veil tucks itself around the bright lights, the growing things shine brightly over the river of traffic. Salt is on the air, running through your hair. Somewhere is the sea and the horizon which never ends.
The few stars have gathered near to hear the bells. Notes cascade over cobbles and puddle in your ears. The wind dances intimately for you and the stars.
The sky is endless.
The sky is very near.