“Back to school”. Those three little words. The dread descends. But, there are things to celebrate. My own department’s results are pretty good this year, in fact, they’re the best they’ve ever been in the school’s history and the best overall this year. Granted, they were a very talented bunch and, in very many ways, a joy to teach but it still feels pretty good.
Less good are the now myriad passwords cluttering up my life. I remember when passwords were simple. Your cat’s/boyfriend’s/pop idol’s name. I was (for once) ahead of the pack in attaching the odd numeral to my passwords. Now, companies/schools/forums etc etc require a password of at least sixty seven characters of which three must be numbers, two must be symbols and one must be a capital letter. I have spent most of the summer requesting new passwords or answering security questions (most of which are “What is your cat’s/husband’s/pop idol’s name?”).
At the start of this rather cloudy summer The Tin Drummer and I had a summer celebration following our white-out winter wedding. My father, who married us in the bleak midwinter, said some more wise words and we had the chance to say, in front of many good friends and very dear family, just what we think of each other. In coming up with mine it gave me the chance to think of the promises we made that snowy day and whether we were passing or failing this most rigorous – and life-long – test. I reckon we’re doing OK, but I’m grateful for the lack of a league table too.