It is usually a pretty grim experience writing exams. Today, it was even grimmer than usual for a select group of sixth form students (among whom, as it so happens, was my own dear son) because their invigilator (me) had a foul cold. So it was pace, pace, pace, oh God I'm going to have to cough again ... try not to cough ... have a sip of water, maybe that will help ... try not to cough ... try not to cough ... COUGHCOUGHCOUGH... oh no, now the nose ... don't sniff, that's disgusting ... okay, try to blow your nose soundlessly ... SNORTSNUFFLESNORT ... okay, that wasn't really soundless .. uh oh, I'm going to have to cough again ...COUGHCOUGHCOUGH...

And so it went, for an hour and a half.

And speaking of my own dear son.

He is currently driving us insane.

He says he is working flat-out, he says is going to get wonderful grades for these exams, he says all is under control - and it's true he is finally doing some work. But not enough! He's spending far too much time procrastinating, watching football on line, taking endless baths, and eating mounds of coco-pops (the one foodstuff with absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever currently available in our house) instead of the super-healthy brainfoods which I keep preparing for his sustenance.

Aaaargh!

The picture above is one from Scotland, by the way, taken near a coastal town called Kirkudbright. Tranquil and beautiful, and very far removed from my present mood.