Well, long multiplication took a bit longer to assimilate than it might have done so writing remainders in other forms has been pushed into this week. Gone will be the days of r5, to be replaced by remainder 5/8 or 0.625. There will no doubt be some sucking of teeth (good practice for anyone wanting to enter the plumbing or building trades) and some interesting placement of decimal points (handy if you want to be a rogue trader) but we will emerge into sunlit uplands (like party political broadcasts always promised in the 1970s) and be able to make decisions about rounding up or rounding down answers with remainders within worded problems. If that actually happens, I will immediately retire and dine out on the story.
We will complete our collective biographies of Alfred the Great, featuring linked paragraphs and a bit of controlled, reasoned opinion-sharing (be still, my beating heart) and also tackle some more aspects of Anglo-Saxon history, in particular reading about how society was formed in tiers. Cityscape pictures should be completed and Mrs. Tollervey will return full of French, R.E. and, perhaps incongruously, Tag Rugby - we compared thighs and biceps and I just wasn't up to the job. Ukuleles will once more throb, like my head, and no doubt ALL homework will be returned to school in a timely manner allowing me to get everything marked before it all comes flying out again on Friday.
There's also the matter of the hopefully-donated-carpet-tiles and the mildly-engineering-based-construction-problem which Mrs. Orr and I will then face/fabricate, straining every sinew of our combined creativity in order to come up with...possibly a pile of tiles. We shall see. It could be the saddest thing since Dylan Thomas wrote about Bessie Bighead in Under Milk Wood...it goes something like this...Bessie Bighead, hired help, born in the workhouse, smelling of the cowshed, snores bass and gruff and dreams of picking a posy of daisies in Sunday Meadow to put on the grave of Gomer Owen who kissed her once by the pigsty when she wasn't looking and never kissed her again though she was looking all the time.
Well, no, not even a pile of carpet tiles could be that sad...