Mark's in now let's move on ...

The good news is as follows:

I got my poetry mark and was graded an astonishing 87%!  To say I was surprised is like saying this winter's been a bit chilly.  As I reported earlier, I'd been checking all day on the Open University website, but the little score box remained stubbornly empty.  I then went to do my evening shift at work, logged into the OU website and there it was, all shiny and sparkly I swear I heard a heavenly choir!  I shooed everyone out of Reception, ran into the corner and did my little celebratory dance, punched the air a couple of times, smoothed down my hair and calmly went and took my seat.  I felt like a bit of a cheat because so many of my course-mates had read about the rules and structures of poetry and understood them.  I'd openly admitted I understood very little, didn't intend to be a poet anyway, read a few poets that I liked, wrote a couple of poems which were alright and then my opus arrived in all its glory nearly fully formed in my head.  Can't help thinking I was struck by the lucky stick.

Tasha is dancing as well.  She got two offers in yesterday.  Bath Spa have offered her a place on condition she gets a merit in her Foundation course - apparently that's a middle score.  Sunderland have offered her an unconditional place.  I'm very proud of her.  And she was having a really bad day yesterday trying to find a subject for her final project.  She'd taken herself off to London to go round some galleries in the search for a flash of inspiration and came home all dejected.  I tried to help, but was roundly told to leave her alone.  She flung herself into a frenzy of cleaning the bathroom and her bedroom - which was good for me! - while she nursed her frustrations.  I left her to it and cooked dinner instead.  Eventually, just as our fish masala and pilau rice with tomatoes and peas was ready to eat (new cookery book - Madhur Jaffrey's Curry Easy - highly recommended) she reappeared as grinny and shiny as I'd been the night before, brandishing her laptop with the UCAS site all lit up and showing her offers.

We both went to bed happy little bunnies.

Then Jack phoned at 1.10 am and woke up both of us.

I didn't get back to sleep until just before 4 am.  The happy bunny had been shot and skinned and was hanging as a warning not to talk to me this morning before I'd had a very large mug of tea.

The moral to this story is that all things are fleeting and changeable, so grab the good bits while you can.