fruitful, in various ways
Hah! Few and subtle are the pleasures of an academic administrator. About a year ago I suggested to a department head that the admissions process for his programme was unwieldy and made no sense, and proposed an alternative. His department staff loved the idea. He disagreed and rejected it, and it vanished into the dank mists of "might have been" without a trace. Today, in a major faculty meeting, he calmly proposed precisely the amendment I'd suggested, as a response to various problems that were arising as a result of said unwieldiness. My earlier proposal of exactly the same thing was not mentioned. I am, however, too busy punching the air and doing little dances round my office to care particularly. My influence, it is sneaky and latent but you cannot resist it. Fear the administrator. Fear her.
In other news, there's an avocado pear tree in our back courtyard which has grown quietly and greenly to itself for twelve years now, since we moved in. It's never been particularly healthy, being prone to a sort of leaf-edge browning which I am unable to define or treat, although it's been a lot greener since my late papa hammered a bunch of rusty nails into its trunk about four years ago. (Avocado pears are into masochistic piercings. Who knew?). This morning I noticed that, for the first time ever, it has a tiny little green avocado pear growing1. Just one. But it's a start. I may go out there with a hammer this evening and further attend to its masochistic pleasures by way of encouragement. Gods, that sounds dodgy.
Last Night I Dreamed: I was living in the basement of a rambling house on a hill with the entire cast of Big Bang Theory and, for some reason, herne_kzn. The former were subtly annoying and prone to histrionics, the latter was obscurely comforting. While I'm rather fond of herne_kzn I have absolutely no patience with Big Bang Theory, which rather suggests that once again my subconscious hates me, at least a bit.
1 Gosh, the avocado has a weird sex life, quite apart from the piercings fetish. I just spent ten minutes reading the Wikipedia entry, and it's all odd gender swapping to strict timetables rigidly defined by sub-species. I suspect ours hasn't ever fruited owing to really poor timing and considerable sexual frustration.
In other news, there's an avocado pear tree in our back courtyard which has grown quietly and greenly to itself for twelve years now, since we moved in. It's never been particularly healthy, being prone to a sort of leaf-edge browning which I am unable to define or treat, although it's been a lot greener since my late papa hammered a bunch of rusty nails into its trunk about four years ago. (Avocado pears are into masochistic piercings. Who knew?). This morning I noticed that, for the first time ever, it has a tiny little green avocado pear growing1. Just one. But it's a start. I may go out there with a hammer this evening and further attend to its masochistic pleasures by way of encouragement. Gods, that sounds dodgy.
Last Night I Dreamed: I was living in the basement of a rambling house on a hill with the entire cast of Big Bang Theory and, for some reason, herne_kzn. The former were subtly annoying and prone to histrionics, the latter was obscurely comforting. While I'm rather fond of herne_kzn I have absolutely no patience with Big Bang Theory, which rather suggests that once again my subconscious hates me, at least a bit.
1 Gosh, the avocado has a weird sex life, quite apart from the piercings fetish. I just spent ten minutes reading the Wikipedia entry, and it's all odd gender swapping to strict timetables rigidly defined by sub-species. I suspect ours hasn't ever fruited owing to really poor timing and considerable sexual frustration.