Who said people with hearing aids are deaf? Naturally, we're not deaf. If we were completely deaf, there'd be no point in hearing aids!

So, we have hearing impairment. In my case, only mild hearing loss. But I tell you, my ears are practically ringing after an hour with Piano Kid (Mark 1) hammering the keys right beside me.

My ears (and nerves) were eventually jangling so badly that I took the blasted hearing aids OUT and put ON headphones, to try to deaden the sound. My headphones let in too much sound, it would appear.

Don't get me wrong - he's very good. But sight-reading, loud, at 11.30 pm at night?

M - E -R - C - Y !!! (Is anyone listening?)

A propos of Belle de Jour, you can call me Clair de Lune! It's sexier than Pseudo-Supermum. And more transparent. Pseudo-Supermum has been living a lie all these years, because as anyone close to her can affirm, she isn't really super at all. (I don't have a photo of me in fishnets, but I'll see what I can do with my mobile phone camera!)

Clair de Lune has spent too much time in Testosterone Manor, and has now contracted a nasty ailment which the medical community hasn't yet recognised as even possible - yes, reader, I have Man-Flu. It has finally jumped across the species. The wretches have coughed and spluttered and breathed all over me for a fortnight and now I, too, feel wretched with a cough that won't give up and a tendency to headaches and fever. Yeurghhh! (Click on the link for a public health commercial about Man-Flu.)

Saxophone Kid, of course, being younger and more resilient, has thrown off his mini Man-Flu, and picked up Adolf for a quick practice before his lesson this evening. (Isn't that when one always practises best?) Unfortunately, he had just balanced Adolf on the arm of the chair, whence he fell to the ground with a thud. Saccident-Prone Saxophone-Kid now has a crocked, crooked crook, and Adolf can reach neither high nor low notes until he is repaired. Sigh!

What was wrong with the nice saxophone STAND which I bought a year or so ago?

"Um, never thought of that", he said sheepishly. How strange!

Well, there's a strange thing. While Pseudo Supermum was busy being a full-time working librarian (not to mention church organist) wife and mother, calmly getting her PhD thesis written, preparing for the viva, doing the corrections, all in her 'spare time', ...
... she could have been financing her studies more interestingly, by emulating Belle de Jour!

Suddenly Pseudo Supermum feels strangely old-fashioned, conventional, positively boring. What a dull and routine life she's led.

Pseudo Supermum's mother didn't know she was doing a doctorate at all.

However, the news that her daughter is now a doctor, will have come as less of a shock than the news that La Maman de la Belle de Jour is to receive this week! Read the Times Online article here.

Daughters do have this way of surprising their mothers, don't they?

The coughing, spluttering one is going to have a band practice with his mates this afternoon. I think he's going stir-crazy being cooped up in the house. This is a Good Sign - working towards a return to school on Monday.

Meanwhile, his big brother is off to a choir practice, little brother to a birthday party, and SuperSpouse on his way back from the party-run, leaving me awaiting Mr Tesco. Oh, the exCITEment of my life!

And it's only 3.15 pm. I've washed, folded, ironed laundry, baked cake, made pizza (well, the bread-machine helped ...), and polished the dining-room. Now to mend that broken necklace of mine. Something for me at last!

Viola-Kid might, quite possibly, have swine-flu. Oh, joy!

Figure this one:

• SuperSpouse cannot go near him for fear he catches it. (72, heart condition, 2 recent major operations ...)
• Saxophone Kid wants to avoid getting it
• Cello Kid will come home terrified of catching it
• Pseudo-Supermum is a healthy adult so must therefore run around like a headless chicken ensuring no-one else gets sick.
• Everyone needs Pseudo-Supermum, and if she gets sick, there's nowhere she can be quarantined apart from the carpeted but cluttered and incredibly dusty attic. An inviting prospect.

Sadly, I can't attend my uncle's funeral - I can't leave Glasgow if I have a sick boy whose father is not allowed near him!

*

This evening I phoned directory enquiries twice, NHS24 twice, Mum twice, Aunt once, National Rail Enquiries, Scotrail Enquiries, went to Asda for Nurofen and more soft drinks, put two loads of washing through, emptied the dishwasher, and had two attempts at creating slides for next week's PowerPoint. "Honestly, I don't know what's wrong with you. You're being ridiculous. What are you getting so uptight about?"

*

Quite so. What on earth could be upsetting me?! I'm just being a silly woman.

Dress to impress:-

One satisfactory shopping trip! I just need the hair and maybe some uncharacteristic make-up and four well-groomed males to accompany me. Working on it - two voluntarily went to the hairdresser's today, and one last week. I should know - I was chauffeur!

This is my graduation gift from my loving SuperSpouse - the final piece in my collection of college and university crests!

Collection?, you ask. Well, yes. My guilty past encompasses Durham, Exeter, Aberystwyth, and Trinity College London. And the McAulay crest as well, naturally. But this latest one is really rather splendid. I feel as though I ought to be sipping a fine sherry as I gaze upon it, Daah-ling!

Instead, I shall apply myself to the question of cultural nationalism in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, in order to share my wisdom with some students in a couple of weeks' time!

Sometimes I get a lot done in a night. Once the co-codamol kicked in for the headache that had bugged me all day, I was up and raring to go.

• Church choir music planned for Advent and Epiphany
• Phoned home to speak to Mum
• Trip to Banbury researched but not booked (British Rail ticket offices close at 10.30 pm for advance bookings, whilst I was trying to be clever and beat the postal strike at 10.55 pm ...
• Gaelic homework done
• And now a nice little glass of wine before bed. Yes, it's "after midnight".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was very moved by a letter which arrived from Mum today, in which she sent a cheque to pay for my PhD hood. My father died 17 months ago, but Mum wrote that I was to regard the hood as a gift from her and Dad, because he'd have wanted to buy this for me. I nearly cried when I read it. She'd signed it, "From Mum (and Dad)." I never thought I'd see that again. Thanks, Mum - and thanks, Pa! You see, Pa? I did it, eventually!

There! One successful thesis. I went out early this morning to collect it from the bookbinder, and dashed to the University at lunchtime to hand it in.
*

• *
  Dr Pseudosupermum now feels entitled to review the status quo:-
  
  
  Thesis accepted;
• Thesis filed electronically;
• Thesis bound & delivered;
• Gown, hood and photographer ordered;
• Party venue booked;
• Still to buy party dress and invitations -
  

Ah, the sweet smell of success!

It's Official - Pseudosupermum becomes Dr Pseudosupermum

Both my examiners have declared themselves happy. So now there's nothing to do but sign up for the gown and hood, and investigate whether we can afford a celebratory party! (And where, and how.)

WHERE IT ALL HAPPENED

Introducing my dining-room alcove. Home within a home! (Would it make you completely sick to learn that the files on the middle shelf are not only alphabetically arranged outside, but inside too?)

I need to write some abstracts for conferences at which I hope to present papers. But maybe not tonight.

Image from http://www.fireworks.com, with grateful thanks! This is a Grand Finale from their website, and I've chosen it because ...

...

..... I've had a favourable response to my revisions from my American external examiner! Which leaves only ONE more response before I can really, truly call myself Doctor McAulay. Keep watching this space ...

TWITTER AND TWEETING

As I said, I'm not going to start tweeting onto Pseudosupermum. Too much hassle. However, a nice man from Virgin (mobile phone) talked me through setting up my mobile to Tweet directly onto my professional blog. You know what the problem was? (Apart from it being not in the slightest bit intuitive, so I'd never have guessed it could be done from the mobile end rather than the internet on my computer.) Virgin Mobile didn't know I was over 18.

I did, at that point, advise him that my eldest son was now 16, so I thought I was probably somewhat over 18 myself! But they had to do the phone equivalent of a credit check to establish that I was an adult homeowner!

I'm not at all sure I shall be tweeting onto my library blog on a regular basis - it all seems such a fiddly operation - but at least, if I am away from the office, I can now get postings onto the blog if I need to. One small step for a librarian - one giant step for ...

... no. I've got that wrong somewhere. But it could be useful, I suppose.

Aaah, stuff it! I've tried to get a Twitter rss feed going to this blog, but all I get is "Net Temps" in the Blogger RSS feed layout box (eh?) and the same original tweet that I did last night. There will be no tweeting on this blog. Life is too short.

Ever felt you'd had a weekend with NOTHING to show for it?

Ah. I haven't got my rss feeds sorted out yet - they're not updating from Twitter. Hmmm.

To be continued ...

GOING ROUND IN CIRCLES

So I'm not in Facebook now. Considering Cello-Kid had a classmate boasting that he'd "befriended" me earlier this week, it's probably just as well I deactivated Facebook. Means the lad was just winding up Cello-Kid.

Indeed, the whole CLASS threatened to befriend me. Eh? What on earth for?! Anyway, they can't.

So how am I to keep up with friends? There had to be another way. I already have a professional twitter. Now I have a personal one, too. There is still a slight problem, though. I can't send text messages to Twitter via my PAYG Virgin mobile. I've emailed Virgin to ask why not. I suspect it has to do with short codes and Virgin PAYG not accepting them, but I'll let them tell me that themselves before I'll accept that as a reason!

What's more, I can post to Twitter on the net, but how do I let friends know I have this new Twitter, and how do I find my friends?

So far, all I've managed to do is set up the Twitter account and set up an rss feed from Twitter to Pseudo Supermum. And that's the extent of my expertise! Time for wine, supper and an early night.

(Postscript. Aw shucks! I'm not convinced my rss feed is updating. Too much technology!)

THIS HAS BEEN THE WEEK FROM HELL!

All the new students arrived, and it's great to see all those enthusiastic, eager young faces - but how many library induction sessions did I run? I lost count! I'm so very, very tired. I only had two splitting headaches. Too much caffeine, several painkillers, and excessive carbohydrates. However, after a week of rushing around from pillar to post, what did I do to finish off the week?

Took the boys to Boys Brigade, went home and checked my thesis revisions, went to the uni library to format the pdf again, collected the boys from Boys Brigade, then resubmitted the thesis to my examiners. Phew! Talk about a flamboyant end to the week!