“The thing is, before I retired, I used to rush around on a Sunday trying to get everything done. But I’m finding now that I say ‘I’ll do this, that and the other tomorrow’ and do something else instead. Then whatever it was never gets done. Do you find that?”
“The ratio of the shear stress to the strain rate in a fluid is commonly known as what?”
The students confer; Young Fogey whispering to Phiz Illustration while Hockey Captain checks with Normal Looking Kid. There’s a lot of confident nodding. Paxman looks confident too, but then he has the answer in front of him.
Meanwhile, I’m trying to understand the question. A-level Physics was forty years ago and the only thing I remember now is Mr Hurst setting his jacket on fire by pocketing his pipe while it was still alight.
The individual words make sense; it’s the underlying meaning that has me fogged.
Jan 1st Had party at home. Went to Grandad’s.
Jan 2nd LittleSis lost piece of spirograph. No. 42 ring. Made bed. Payed Coal Bill. Went to Town.
Jan 3rd Found ring 42. Lost magnet pencil of International Spy.
London at the height of the Swinging Sixties. Still whistling World Cup Willie, we hunker down for the winter before the Summer of Love. It’s all there in the heady entries of my 1967 Letts School-girls Diary; unearthed this morning from the loft as we haul up yet more of YoungLochinvar’s goods and chattels.
The phone rings. Even from Sorrento, Ma and Pa still need to keep check on us in case we do anything risky, like crossing the road or forgetting to breathe. Conversation is made more interesting by a combination of poor line and poor ears.
“There’s something wrong with the internet here,” she shouts. “We couldn’t get this week’s Jelly Chronicles.”
“I haven’t done one!” I yell back. “I’ve done nothing but work.”
I can hear Ma telling Pa that my computer doesn’t work. I take a deep breath and have another go. “I said ‘I’ve done nothing but work’. It’s been really busy. Can you hear me, mother?” Click.