Grades are in, two hours before the deadline. My students did quite well this semester — I’m not sure if I’m becoming an easier grader as I get older, or if I’m working harder to help them earn those better grades. Maybe some of both.
It’d be hard to figure out — I think I’d have to go back to papers I graded years ago (pre-pandemic), and compare them to the ones I’m grading now, and see if I’d give the same grades now as then. No one is paying me to do that extra work, plus all of that seems like it’d require a lot of brain.
I am all out of brain, people. Please do not ask me to do anything that requires braining for the next day or two.
(Also, I know my e-mail is bouncing, sorry, am trying to get it fixed. Which requires at least a little brain, dammit. In the meantime, if it’s urgent, FB message, please.)
Here, have my first peony of the season. It’s pretty. That’s basically where I am now — flowers pretty. That’s what my brain can handle. I think I’ll build a fire tonight and have a cider and read another Bridgerton novel and enjoy my messy but floriferous garden.
Flowers pretty. Fire hot. 🙂
