So there I am not so long ago - sitting on the verandah watching the possums come out, looking at the stars, trying to hide from the children, and nursing my glass of wine (I don't usually nurse wine, but sometimes life requires it). DS7 comes out in his towel apres bath to find me. A bit of idle chatter goes on and then "J" says I nonchalantly - "what does an X do?". "Makes Y and Z" says my boy, laughing. I, of course, have asked this question because, during the assessment session causing me so much angst, he has said that he doesn't know what Y and Z have in common. "Why are you laughing?" says I. "Dunno" says he. I don't pursue this further, but do feel suddenly compelled to do a rather desperately presented experiment involving a paperclip, magnet and the earth to demonstrate that the teacher's advice (so he tells me) that gravity and magnetism are "the same" is not entirely right.
I have done some googling this afternoon, and have discovered that I could send them to a reasonable boarding school for around $17,000 a year (each, sadly). In this scenario, I have moved to a very clean, tidy inner city apartment - the sale of my house having funded the aforementioned boarding school. My life is calm, and I feel very peaceful. I occasionally let the boys come home for the weekend.
I have informed The Father that he is in charge of bedtime tonight. Back to the verandah for me, and peaceful wishes to all.
