Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Looking at an old book on reading theory today, I have been involved in some reading theory of my own. One chapter is scribbled and underlined, not with my notes, but my son's. I can remember him doing it - after years of telling him never to write on his own books, he'd just discovered me making notes on mine - but what I couldn't remember is what it was he was writing. And then I got it. He'd crossed out many times any word he couldn't understand, he'd put circles round the name Woolf (and this was a chapter about Virigina Woolf so there were a lot of them) and by the side of any name he thought was funny, such as Arbuthnot, he'd drawn a star linked to the comment 'hahahah' in the margin.
I've got to say there are some theories I've been trying to work out recently that make his look positively useful.
And following this obvious academic bent in the family, my brother has just started researching as a - very - mature student in a university and is usefully filling in his times sending us links of websites featuring ugly babies and extraverts at the point of orgasm. The future of green agriculture is safe in his hands.

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