Upheavals

I had to climb out of my own house over the fence this morning. I think having twigs in my hair will be a permanent condition from now on. This is getting more and more exasperating.

In other news, it's cucharita's birthday today. My present for her is a paid account, but I couldn't arrange it yesterday because of the... upheavals. Will do it tonight. She seems a tad depressed. However, she did distribute Malteasers all round, which was nice and honeycomb chocolate-y.

They did the To Kill a Mockingbird extracts in assembly this morning. They were all very good, with the exception of the guy who played Judge Taylor. Um, crap.

Nothing else, I guess. I think Biology deserves a mention because of the (attempted) dissection of a sardine. Between us, Meg and I managed to stab a scalpel into the fish's swim bladder - yellow gunk all over the place. I swore I would kill myself if it was fish for lunch. It was pasta. My life is safe.

Tired now. Am not looking forward to going home tonight and getting back over the fence.

The foliage look

Last night, Pedar got back, heard all about everything I'd done to try and fix the gate, and uttered the ominous words, "Iona. Get me a hammer."

It would appear that as well as being Unsurmountable Barrier Between Us And The Outside World, the gate is also a sound amplifier. The resulting cacphony as Pedar hit it with a hammer is better imagined than heard. At the end of that, I had a strong desire to shoot someone. Preferably the gate's manufacturer, although its architect, the man-who-put-it-in, and all the friends and relations of the above would have done nicely.

However... the gates did spontaneously open at some point during the afternoon. To stop them from opening and closing 398245984 times, or however many times I activated the various controls, I flicked the power off again, so they're now stuck open rather than stuck closed. I no longer look like a Nox. This is good. I plan to wash my hair later. This should prove the end of the foliage look.

The day has been pleasant and spent in the company of Becca and _detroit. The conversation ran to many things, of cabbages and kings, and it seems Emma's dream is to one day see Becca an actress and me changing the world. I know her, she's a professional sponger, whom I love so much I couldn't have it any other way. I attempted to describe her in three words. "Odd, nice and insightful." I described Becca as "odd, nice, and funny," and Becca being Becca, she promptly took mock offence at not being considered insightful. Between them, they described me as "Strange, loving, intelliegent and peaceful." I will let this stand.

cucharita's first major announcement on this, the first day of her seventeenth year of existence, was to teach Saria How to Hug Teh Raven. "It's very much like hugging a pigeon," she said.
Apparently there are two schools of thought on this very knotty subject. There's _detroit's approach, which is to build up trust over a period of years, and when she does hug me, she hugs me very gently with as little contact as possible, and so I don't freak out. And then there's cucharita's approach. This is to make no sudden movements and then launch herself upon me from behind. Invariably, I lose my (non-existent sense of) balance and fall onto a chair/table/floor with Enid on top of me, which I like, but it looks compromising.

And that is everything. I will get ahold of Pedar in a while, and try to get a paid account for cucharita. Because I love her and it's her birthday.

Structural genetics and molecular biology

It would appear that Pedar is going through another phase. A while ago, he was going through a relativity phase. Everything was about-

["Iona?"
"Yeah?"
"Relativity!"]

-relativity. Then, there was the problem-based learning and the art of reflection. It was "Reflection! You must reflect!" and with all the zeal of the newest convert. He'd passed through that phase without incident, but I've noticed in the last couple of days what the latest one is. It's structural genetics and molecular biology.

"Iona?"
"Yeah?"
"Ask me what I'm reading about."
"Pedar, what are you reading about?"
"It's the key to mankind."
"Um... proteins."
"No."
"Amino acids?"
"No."
"Hormones?"
"No."
"Recessive alleles."
"Getting closer."
"The number 42?"
"Yes, but no."
"What?" I demanded, having finally run out of possibilities. Pedar's oldest love is endocrinology, which has always worried me.
"Structural genetics and molecular biology."
"Oh," I said.