Mug Shot

All the staff now have those dangly plastic identification things with their photos on, and it has been decreed that the governors must too.  I'm rather regretful at this.  Partly for the obvious reason that it meant having my picture taken, partly because it means me giving up wearing my name badge (also dangly, but from a metal chain rather than a ribbon) that has a green smiley face sticker that my friend Caroline in Learning Support gave me.  However, I dutifully got my picture taken after the committee meeting last Thursday and picked the badge up on Friday ... and put it, unlooked at, in my bag.  I didn't look at it the next day either.  I finally hauled it out on Saturday at the quiz and passed it round the table.  I look strangely thin-lipped, which I'm not, but otherwise, though not flattering at all, I have to admit that's probably much what I look like.  A bit depressing, that.  Anyway, I asked for, and got, the dots on my name.

Today, I have a vital day for getting stuff done at home.  No housework will be involved, past the daily stuff. If I do well, I'll make marmalade this afternoon, however.  I bought enough oranges for two more batches, and that will certainly be enough for the year.  It might well be more than the the jars I have.  I remember one year my father, who was the marmalade maker in our family, used glasses when he ran out of jars.  We had loads of glasses, it didn't matter, and the marmalade did look very pretty, especially as he added a few almonds and cherries at the last for cosmetic purposes.

One of the things that the Sage was happily showing Mike yesterday was the ugly mug I gave him for Christmas.  He's so pleased with it.  I saw last night that he hadn't put it safely away, and I've just spotted it now where he left, it, on an armchair.  Although there's no reason to think it won't be safe there, I've had to move it.  Too many years of having dogs and children plonking themselves onto chairs without looking, I can't overcome my inbuilt caution and I was feeling extremely uncomfortable.

The fishmonger calls on a Monday morning.  I have bought kippers, especially for Christopher.  I shall open the window and waft the aroma in a southerly direction tonight.  I've just made coffee, but I'm tactfully not wafting that Roses' way in case she's still not permitted caffeine.