Man Hands

Today I enjoy nearly a full week off school. Not because I am sick or because I am on holidays, but because my whole grade is going away to camp. Many people have asked me "Why didn't you go?" and I reply simply "Well, I guess it's because of the people. If I were going with a really close group of friends or with my family, then I may enjoy it, but not with a bunch of strangers and a couple of friends dotted here and there". So, this week, I am spending my time cleaning, cooking, reading, singing, writing and listening to music, maybe watching a few movies in between. I shall rather enjoy it. And my father might be dropping around to take me shopping. No, not clothes shopping. Shopping for a quill, ink, letter writing paper, envelopes, stamps, wax seal (eeeeeeeee!!!!) and wax. Maybe also a few 'drippy' candles for my wine bottles.

Although I do love and relish the time spent away from school and on holidays, I can't help feeling rather 'fat'. You see, most of the time I spend on the computer or reading or watching a movie (which are, as you can guess, all done sitting/lying down) and I begin to feel very tired, lazy and fat. It's really not a very nice feeling. But then, when I'm asked to get out of the house to walk the dogs, I don't want to go. I don't know, I guess being cooped up all day makes you tired and so you don't feel like exercising. But I'm very glad and grateful of the break, school can be very grueling and tiresome.

Last night, my mum went to the hospital. Not because she was ill, but because of her 'man hand'. You see, a few days ago, she was in the park. Walking along. Minding her own business. When something drops onto her head. Thinking it a leaf, she brushes it carelessly away with her hand. Suddenly, there is a sharp pain in her right pinkie and she stops in her tracks. A bee falls to the ground, dead. She stares at her hand and nurses it as it starts to swell. She remembers that she is allergic to bees. Finishing up the walk, she calls the dogs and takes them home again. Reaching home, the swelling is spreading. In a day or so, her hand is puffed up like a balloon and she can barely move it. It is very painful. So she takes it to the doctors and she gives her some medication. She sternly recommends that, if the swelling does not die down within a few hours, she must go to the hospital, as she could have an infection that may worsen. The swelling increases steadily and she decides to call a friend to take her to the hospital. They wait ... and they wait. For hours they sit, bored stupid, in the waiting room. Finally, a nurse sees her. She takes her to a doctor. She is then put on a drip and advised to stay the night, until the swelling dies down. And so she is in hospital. Everyone is calling it her 'man hand', as that it exactly what it looks like. Although, if I ever met a guy with hands like that, I think I'd run for the hills without a moment's notice. Hopefully, she will be back again sometime today. Last night, we stayed with some family friends and now Mel and I are at home, as Mel took the day off.
Here is a picture of mum's hands. The one on the left is the swollen one (just in case you couldn't tell).

What a bore! I have an English analytical essay to write on 'nationality'. It's so incredibly tedious and boring that I cannot think how I shall survive it. I think I'm going to do the English nationality, but I'm not really sure what my points will be. Most people will likely do Australian and some American, but I think I shall be different and do English. We basically have to pick one picture, one literary source and one non literary source. We then have to talk about each of them and discuss what relevance they have to the nationality we've chosen and how they may be similar. Well, at least we don't have to write an essay on the government. I think I'd rather die. I don't really see how we will use essays in real life, except maybe if you're working for a magazine company or something, even then. Then again, there are many things we are taught in school which we will never need to actually use in real life, and there are things they don't teach which we will. I'm just glad I have such fabulous parents who teach me pretty much everything I need to know and more.

Well, chaps, toodle oo then, for now!
Fondest affections,
Miss Aalyn xx