Compared to last week, this week was particularly uneventful…or the thoughts have mostly left my head. I haven’t been out and there haven’t been events, and the week has sped past, definitely. Join us in our quick takes at ConversionDiary, or this week at This Ain’t the Lyceum.
The chill weather is getting to me a bit, as are those dark mornings. Thank goodness for Toffee Nut Lattes! It’s some relief that I’ve only got a few weeks of work left, but, simultaneously, I can foresee everything I will have to do.
Did you know that children when learning vocabulary have a noun bias? Makes sense, really, since they tend to associate actions with verbs, but also must first have the knowledge of the nouns associated with the actions. They also may learn through dumb associational mechanisms or through social-pragmatic cues. The jury is still out on whether language learning is domain-specific or domain-general – or whether one then the other as a child ages.
And that was my Psych essay for this term summed up.
I managed to stay on campus a complete day (10 – 4.30) on Tuesday, something which I rarely do because I enjoy the secure base of my room, which puts my day on reset.
My musical confidence is growing, step by step. We’ve been told that we might be signing carols as part of the background to a Winter Wonderland that is being set up on the first few days of December in the main campus. It’s a little strange experience for me to be offered so many opportunities to sing/perform, even as part of a choir, but I’m going to take it in my stride. Plus – skating rink. 🙂
I managed to get some editing of chapter one of WTCB done, and I’ve been trying to fix the weird dip in tension on the first page of OJAP.
Writing has been…somewhat productive, as I dodge the essays and reports. A thousand words for a work-in-progress is quite nifty – and this one looks at the change in the literal way Laurie is beginning to see Jess after The Rain Scene. Hopefully, I will get this month’s Beautiful Books post up soon.
“Don’t worry about me.” She shot him a toothy smile.
Jess. Oh, he did, but not in that dread-rolling way he had before. As he walked, and the light bounced off the shades and splashes and varied pigments of her hair, he watched the way she moved so effortlessly through the campus. He wanted to fetch her a drink, to curl up on his bed with her, to ask about her day. And listen and actually give a care.