Who's A Crock?
How's this for a surprise: I'm trudging away at my marking when, out of the clichéd blue, one of my former students shows up at the house for a brief visit. I should add that this woman hasn't been a student of mine in seven years, and we only get to meet up very occasionally. Actually, it's odd describing her as a former student as she's a good several years older than I am-- "I'm cranky, I'm a grandmother now," she averred-- and that year of teaching now seems so removed from my personal history that it's almost as if it never happened. It's always wonderful seeing someone you haven't seen in You-Know-Who-Only-Knows-Long, and even better when it's utterly unexpected (and, in this case, a bright spot in an otherwise gloomy day). Seven years. Staggering.
It cheers me to realize I haven't become a younger Andrew Crocker-Harris, at least not yet or at least not entirely. Mind you, if I ever did, there'd be no way they'd get Albert Finney to play me in a movie; they'd certainly someone much thinner for the task. ;-)
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