Three Days

Well, wielding a mighty five-litre watering can or two does wonders for the musculature in theory, but is hell on the aging citizen in practice. Not to mention the hose that I am sure has the resilient obstinacy of a boa constrictor minus the homicidal tendencies, this gardening business gives me an idea why Eden might not have been Paradise (actually, it wasn't anyway).

Last night's convos were alarming and wonderful. It was interesting to see people thinking about truth as an artifact rather than as an axiomatic and undeniable baseline for our existence. It was even more interesting to see the ways in which reality was being manipulated. As I incautiously let out, this group is one of the finest, most interesting and entertaining bunches of young people I have ever had the honour to teach.

I think in all my life, groups of four to five students have been plentiful, and I am grateful for that. But once in a while comes a group that, by some odd quirk of chemistry or biology or history or something, will forever etch themselves into your memory. You know who you are, I will not name names here. *grin*

Anyway, I've done five rounds of watering so far, with one more to come this evening. I hope the dendrobia and vandas and the lone oncidium in the corner and phaelanopses and all the others are happy. If anything, speaking to them (what am I doing, have I gone mad) is doing wonders for my Latin and some of my Greek.