Final assignment sent. That’s it. Finished.
I was expecting to be celebrating at this point, but actually feel quite sad now it’s all over. After an eclectic mix of modules, from science to book-keeping, from music technology to linguistics, from astronomy to mathematics, from creative writing to, well, more creative writing and then even more creative writing, it feels weird to have no assignment deadlines to meet !
Sometimes the modules have been hair-tearingly frustrating, intermittently mind-numbing, occasionally a trifle tedious, now and again downright difficult, but always personally challenging with barrel-loads of fun thrown in for good measure. Such a shame it has to end.
Except. It doesn’t. Necessarily. All end. Well, it could. I can lay claim to my degree, but unlinked my first Level 3 module last year because the result was a Pass 2. To get a 1st, I need a second Level 3 module to come in with a Distinction and believe me, E301 – The Art of English is simply not going to oblige. So I might, just a teeny bit might, take another module. But who would care except me if I got a 2.1 or a 1st? What can an early-retired 64-year-old do with a BA(Hons), anyway ?
Watch this space!
In the meantime, we experienced a strange event last week. We were walking the dogs at Fairlands Valley Park in Stevenage, as we do each day, when an evil-looking dog emerged from the woods. Head low to the ground, deep rib-cage, hollowed belly, muscular hindquarters raised up high, straight out of a horror film. Then a few feet behind, followed a middle-aged woman with long grey hair and wearing a red coat. They walked slowly to the centre of the park, the dog laid down and the woman stood, quite still, watching us playing fetch with the Labradors. After a while, we decided she might be waiting for us to move on before exercising her dog, so we did just that. After a few yards, I turned around to see she was still watching us, and turned back the way we were headed. Barely two seconds later, my wife did the same, but commented that the woman with the dog had gone. We looked carefully around the perimeter of the park, which is probably at least 75 yards in every direction from where the woman was standing, but neither she nor the dog was to be seen. 75 yards in two seconds?