Happy Endings

Friday was an odd day.

But for once the oddness was a good oddness.

Friday afternoon saw me and my lovely wife attending my graduation ceremony at Warwick University. For those of you that missed it, I achieved a 2:1 Hons degree in English And Cultural Studies, a degree that has taken me about 15 years to achieve (as I took 5 years off half way through).

Before I started the degree (back in '92) I'd already been visiting the University for a couple of years taking various Open Studies courses - so my association with the University has been a long and edifying one.

And I shall miss it.

This didn't really hit me until the ceremony was underway. I must admit I hadn't felt that excited about the ceremony at all. Karen was in far more of a tizz about it than me... but once I was there, once I had my gown and cap on and was seated amongst all the other similarly garbed graduates (or graduands) it finally hit home. I felt both relief that it was all over and sadness that it was all over.

The ceremony was amazing. The University put on quite a lavish affair. We had the University Choiresters and Musicians to entertain us and everything proceeded with a precision that was breathtaking. The University has been doing this sort of thing for 50 years so it should be well used to it by now I guess.

I remember very little about going up to collect my certificate - it all happened very fast - a good shove from a steward (given to all the students) sent me on my way and then it was a brief blur of lights, faces, handshakes, the certificate in my hand and then a dazed walk back to my seat.

I felt very flushed and very proud.

And discovered a burning desire to do an MA.

However, this will have to wait for at least 3 years. We just can't afford it right now. Maybe once Tom has started school things will be easier financially... until then my academic dreams are placed on hold.

Talking of finances though... the other bit of news I had on Friday was that finally finally the money from my aunt's estate has been paid out. I should be receiving a cheque early next week.

I'm not going to be crass and say how much - suffice it to say it's enough to pay off our debts (barring the mortgage), purchase a desperately needed garden fence, a new fridge freezer as our old one is on its last legs and maybe a little treat for the kids. The rest we shall save - a nice little nest egg that, God willing, will see us through the next three years of these uncertain times. We're still experiencing a financial shortfall so this safety net is invaluable. Hopefully, by being frugal, we shall still have a good portion of this windfall left when the good times begin to roll in again.

I hope so anyway.

At the moment it's just nice to have all the anxiety and worry brought to an end.

I feel like I can breathe again.

(Photography courtesy of Karen.)

Exam Fever

Just a quickie I'm afraid as I am off work today with my youngest boy who is poorly - a high temperature all weekend culminating in nearly 40 degrees last night and a huge hot rash on his hip and leg which didn't blanch beneath a glass. This was far too alarming for Karen and I to even dream of sleeping comfortably last night and we rang the NHS Helpline number and spoke to a very nice nurse who asked us lots of pertinent questions which - much to our relief - ruled out meningitis.

It seems a ridiculous conclusion to have jumped to now but parenthood and panic seem to go hand-in-hand surprisingly often.

Good old Calpol did the trick and brought his temperature down to a more acceptable 38.5 - but still too high. The nurse advised us to get him to the doctor today so I have stayed home to see that all can be done.

He at last seems better now and is asleep in bed having finally eaten properly for the first time in over 24 hours. His temperature has at last dropped back to normal. The medical conclusion is that he'd picked up some sort of virus.

Well, isn't this always the case?

I'm just glad it wasn't the M word nor swine flu which apparently (according the NHS Helpline recorded message) has now hit the East Midlands with a vengeance.

So. This post was originally going to be about the exam I sat on Saturday - the final one for my degree course - and was going to be full of erudite wit and breath-taking insight. Alas, I am not up for such games at the moment. I feel drained.

Suffice it to say I survived and answered the questions to the best of my ability. Hopefully the waffle versus fact ratio was canted in favour of me getting a pass at the very least. I should get the results end of June - and then, all being well, I will finally graduate on July 17th.

Hard to believe that after 10 years+ my part-time degree is finally over.

It's a huge relief but pales into insignificance compared to the relief I feel to see my son sleeping peacefully and contentedly in his cot...

Exam Over!

And boy am I glad.

In the end it wasn’t too bad though having it at 2.00 yesterday afternoon effectively meant the entire day was wiped out: a whole morning of pre-exam stress and then the actual 3 hour exam in the afternoon. After which I was good for nothing at all but food and Doctor Who.

Thankfully I’d been lucky with what I’d selected to revise – there were questions available that covered all the topics I felt most comfortable with so I at least managed to write something fairly sensible for the three hours.

Well. At least I think it was fairly sensible.

I’m now undertaking the traditional post exam post mortem… analysing what I wrote and coming to the conclusion that, actually, the majority of it was an absolute pile of twaddle.

Still, there’s nowt I can do about it now. It’s just a matter of waiting for the results…

Watch this space.

Degree

Oh God Oh God Oh God.

It’s exam time again.

I’ve been doing a part time English degree at nearby Warwick University for the last decade (I kid you not) and am facing yet another exam this weekend. Yes. All plans to disappear somewhere green and hilly over the Bank Holiday weekend break have gone boobs up as they’ve placed my exam smack back in the middle of Saturday afternoon. Gits.

3 hours of 18th Century Literature.

Oh goody. Swift, Pope and Johnson. And oodles of Samuel Richardson’s interminable "Pamela".

And do you think I can get my head around the revision?

Uh uh.

No matter how hard I try I just cannot summon up any enthusiasm for any of the works on this year’s module. I’ve found the year to be very heavy going, back breakingly dry and chokingly dusty.

Still. I shouldn’t complain really. Doing the course part time, I only have 1 module to revise for as opposed to 4 like the poor full timers. And in another 2 years I’ll be completely done and (hopefully) degree'd up like a good ‘un.

Next year I’ve got "Poetry: 1945 to the Present". Much more up my street.

Until then, in lieu of a weekend away, it’s back to Gulliver’s Travels...