Sasha Distan

shiny.

there is nowhere on the internet cats cannot get...

What he ^ said... there are never any answers Caz. All things will be resolved eventually.

yes, the realisation that Kieran and Tristan are not really the same guy unless he is on the racetrack is certainly one that affects how Robin sees him. The full force of Kieran-in-love is hard to resist. Of course, it's never happened before...

everything... and more.What the boy falls in love, he falls hard!

thank you dughlas.You're welcome

“We get to go in the car!” Bailey clapped his hands, and then glanced around to make sure no one had seen him get overexcited, “can I sit in the front?” “I’m gonna sit in the front!” Katy stuck her tongue out at her brother, “I’m the eldest.” “Actually, none of you are sitting in the front,” Kieran finished setting up Benji’s booster seat in the back of the Ferrari and smiled, “it’s already occupied.” After that it was a mad scramble for the kids to get into the car as quickly as possible, wi

moon

I love that he falls over. pretty little boy.

agreed!

i like where your imagine takes you. go there and smile.

yes indeed. cute boyfriends who wear scrubs are always fun.

good snippet, eh?

there are better ways to get over the loss of a friend, but this one works too!

sometimes I require silly drama!

That's a much better ratio. And all those lovely antho stories! Also 4 in one week, personal best *dances*

hahaha! oh Tim!pancakes and bacon must be accompanied by maple syrup. it's very important.

"husky" is actual a general term that covers all manner of Northern sled dog species, including the malamute, the siberian and various other "inuit dogs" all of whom pull sleds. malamutes tend to bigger, thicker set and fluffier, which makes them great for long haul exploration but less good in a race like the Iditarod. I love that as soon as the pair realised they were "working" the barking reaching cacophonous levels.

right back at you. Thank you so much for your lovely words (Ma will tut and say that my ego did not need making any bigger). I kind of love the idea of being saved for last, like a delicious morsel at dinner time. Om nom nom. And I agree that 'Seth' is such a lovely name to say. Thank you Yettie for such high praise.

there does?I would hope more sweet than sad though.

Thank you Addy. I do my best.Technicolour full-immersion storytelling is what we aim for, I'm glad it worked. You always hit the nail on the head - the love is always the most important thing.

School. For those of you who do not: A) have children or grandchildren teach children C) work in academia ... September is any other time of year. Sad because it is the end of summer, but generally the same as any other month. For those of us in the second category, it marks the start of the new school year (at least, in the Northern Hemisphere) and a rollar coaster of emotions, frustrations, delights and horrors. We have now lived, survived, a full teaching week. I have met all of my classes and we have completed our first practical lessons (for those who don't know, I teach Food Technology, a much maligned subject which is NOT home economics, cookery or similar). Some of these sessions have been times of love and wonder. There is a strange and fierce joy to see the students whom you have watched grow up, little 11 year olds who are now teenagers, full of grand ideas and emotions. Too there is an almost possessive kind of loyalty and love when a girl in my tutor group arrived early, ran in and hugged me without a second thought. I was missed. There is often bad stuff too, injuries, accidents, this time, a death among the student population. There are the children you dread seeing, secretly hoping they had transferred to other schools: the one who made things hard last year and you fear will do the same again. I have discovered more recently that I prefer teenagers to children, and that if such a choice was available, I would teach high school. The littlest ones can be so needy, and while others find it endearing, I find it irritating that they have not yet been trained into the manner which I require. They will learn though, it is the entire purpose of their being here. Which brings us to this: I will often at the end of a short period of writing get a student to read to the class their work. I call them volunteers, but I pick them. Today, someone asked me why, and I was reminded of Sir Terry Pratchett, his wonderful work and the words of Lord Vetinari. "That greatest of all treasures, which is hope." I told the students I was imply giving them the illusion of choice, that this illusion was something they would get used to whether they liked it or not. The world is full of apparent choice, though very few of them are actually real choices. They nodded as though they understood and turned back to their work, as did I. We are all of us toiling away under the illusion of choice.

huge!

lesion

which option would be more surprising in reality?