grading.

Apparently, I'd rather take photographs of my cats (who are so good at disrupting me--Libby is saying, "Stop grading!"--I think he might have used an explicative, but I can't be sure) than grade the essays piled up on our dining room table. Almost done. Almost. Then: quiz, quiz, quiz, test. Sixty copies of each set. And next week: last week. Almost. Almost.