Glad we didn't get to "sextuplets"
After work hours, but still. It feels odd and scary. Illicit posting. Like I'm drinking beer in the stacks or something. (Not that I would; I hate beer.) I just don't want to bring the computer home tonight. Let's see if I can survive a whole evening without the Internet!
Speaking of living on the edge, I'm going to go whole hog and post about work too. (Go whole hog, in for a penny in for a pound, might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb... can it be that posting at work is actually making my writing looser and more stream-of consciousness? Wouldn't you think it would be the opposite, that the blandness of my e-mail-to-all-employees-to-
This is so innocuous, even if my paper-thin veneer of anonymity were ever penetrated, I don't see how anyone could object:
A couple weeks ago I was talking about Greek and Latin roots with an older class. I know, couldn't be duller, but actually it was cool. This is a really sweet group, up for anything, and I was showing them a great book that presents the whole thing like a secret code (which it is, when you think about it), so they got all excited when I showed them how "tricycle" can be broken down into the roots for "three" and "wheel," and then made them guess what the roots for "bicycle" were, and then one of them said "Oh, and unicycle means one wheel! So 'uni' means 'one!'" (Aren't they smart?)
They all ran with it:
Then the quietest, most timid little girl in the class raised her hand and giggled, "and unibrow!"
I love my job.