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Belated happy eleventieth birthday to Professor Tolkien! Next year, must have a big party, as the Professor will hit eleventy-one, same as Bilbo. Must have fireworks, too! Yuck. Massively depressing day. All of our beautiful snow is being turned to ooky goo by rain. Frank's enormous snowman is just a lump now. Last night, in the eerie orange glow of the giant outdoor security lights favored by our apartment complex, he looked like a creepy stalker snowman, peering right into my kitchen. (We live on the second floor, so, yes, it was a beeeg snowman. Almost as big as Kevin!) After two extra days of weekend, I must go back to the land of sullen teenagers and attempt to motivate the darlings to read historical fiction. Oh, joy. We had to miss Twelfth Night, too. Our poor little doggie is sleeping more and more. He's very happy when he's awake, but I think he's slipping away. I understand that congratulations are in order for some very deserving new Peers of the Realm! Went to see FOTR again last night, to attempt to cheer ourselves up. Alas, sat next to three nasty teenage girls who were only there to ogle Legolas' buns. I had to use my Teacher Power Eyes on them THREE times! They finally subsided; saw them in the ladies' room after, and they scurried away from me like orcs fleeing a Balrog. Heheheh! Must go grade tests. Fun. Bleah! Today's CD: Beowulf, translated and read by Seamus Heaney. You gotta hear this! |
 
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Thirteenth Night