The pleasure was entirely mine. And I'm quite happy you felt comfortable enough to be opinionated, or rather, to share your opinions freely; rest assured I shall not repeat any of your observations on our colleagues to anyone.
Casting my memory back over the conversation, and to follow up on your many and varied offers of assistance, all deeply appreciated: I would be grateful for whatever insight you can give about managing the staircases; it's been years since I've set foot in the castle and though I know I'd figured out at least some of the knack by my NEWTs, I can't for the life of me recall.
I would also be eager for the charms your sister gave you for ease in marking -- I wish to achieve as much critical engagement with the material as possible, and therefore must assign as much writing as my time will bear. The Arts are intensely individual, requiring (paradoxically) a disciplined and orderly mind and a flexible and creative approach; when teaching en masse I am less certain of my ability to instill those qualities, but I shall certainly try my best. Who was it whose ideal equation for instruction was one teacher, one student, one log? Whomever it was, he was entirely correct.
Ah, well: as I've said to you before, it will be an adventure. (I have adopted this as my motto for the year; a very dear friend, alas now deeply mourned, used to proclaim that as long as you deemed something an adventure at the outset, any setback encountered along the way would simply become an element of the adventure, not an annoyance to be snarled at.)
Also, yes, please do (if you've a chance) turn up the information regarding Septima's favorite tea, and I shall apply myself to the task of acquiring a suitable amount of it. I do so dislike beginning an interpersonal situation at a disadvantage, and -- having looked at the larger schedule and all the considerations that must be taken into account -- I am clearly at a disadvantage in my balance-ledger with her! (I almost regret my proposal to make such sweeping changes to the curriculum -- and then I think of what I've learned of my illustrious predecessor and the style and remit of her instruction, and the feeling passes. Quickly.)
I believe that is the last of the outstanding items of business from last night, save for me also to say that I am grateful for your cautions regarding allowing oneself to be overwhelmed by a tightly-packed schedule (particularly, though you were quite kind not to call mention to it, given my status as convalescent, one distinction of which I cannot rid myself soon enough). Gruelling though my schedule may be, I am quite used to keeping such hours, from the work I have been doing for Our Lord -- and I can assure you, what your research and stargazing is for you, teaching is for me. Ask your Razzer if you doubt me: I am never more content than I am in the moment when the light of comprehension first dawns in a student's eyes.
And speaking of he: there was a brief fashion in my childhood for Muggle literature; do you know the novel Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, or its titular character? (If not, I've a copy to lend, should the prospect intrigue; my library is not all old and dire, and the bottomless book-trunk has joined me at Hogwarts along with much of its contents. Though, likely impolitic to be seen reading it these days; you are welcome to borrow my sitting-room as well.) Have often suspected Razzer was cast as the Peter of our company long ago, and certain comments made in my hearing indicate a concerted effort to place you in the role of his Wendy. Darling though you might be (a reference to the text, I assure you) -- it is clear to see the changes in him must predate your happy acquaintance. I do look forward to renewing my ties and becoming familiar with the person he's made of himself.
In the meantime -- by end of week I'm certain I will be in dire need of company above the age of maturity, particularly after Thursday. (One hour's grace in my schedule between 10AM and 5PM. Say it with me: it is an adventure.) If you've time on Friday after 4PM and before your night's classes, or on Saturday or Sunday, I'd be pleased to offer a glass of wine (or another cup of coffee, if you haven't made up your mind on whether you enjoyed it or no), and we could discuss that text you mentioned last week. I could not promise any form of swift turnaround on a formal translation -- you've seen my schedule -- but at very least, could read it aloud to you and provide a very rough rendition; Arabic was indeed one of my childhood tongues, and one I retain fluency in.
Raz is, of course, welcome as well -- I imagine you never get enough time together and would be loathe to surrender even a moment of it -- but I do suspect it would take more than a decade for his itchy wand hand whenever two conversational partners apply themselves to the minutiae of research to disperse. I assure you, though, I will not be offended in the least if you choose time with him over me. The offer will be open as long as it needs.
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Re: Private message to Antosha
Date: 2012-09-01 06:12 pm (UTC)The pleasure was entirely mine. And I'm quite happy you felt comfortable enough to be opinionated, or rather, to share your opinions freely; rest assured I shall not repeat any of your observations on our colleagues to anyone.
Casting my memory back over the conversation, and to follow up on your many and varied offers of assistance, all deeply appreciated: I would be grateful for whatever insight you can give about managing the staircases; it's been years since I've set foot in the castle and though I know I'd figured out at least some of the knack by my NEWTs, I can't for the life of me recall.
I would also be eager for the charms your sister gave you for ease in marking -- I wish to achieve as much critical engagement with the material as possible, and therefore must assign as much writing as my time will bear. The Arts are intensely individual, requiring (paradoxically) a disciplined and orderly mind and a flexible and creative approach; when teaching en masse I am less certain of my ability to instill those qualities, but I shall certainly try my best. Who was it whose ideal equation for instruction was one teacher, one student, one log? Whomever it was, he was entirely correct.
Ah, well: as I've said to you before, it will be an adventure. (I have adopted this as my motto for the year; a very dear friend, alas now deeply mourned, used to proclaim that as long as you deemed something an adventure at the outset, any setback encountered along the way would simply become an element of the adventure, not an annoyance to be snarled at.)
Also, yes, please do (if you've a chance) turn up the information regarding Septima's favorite tea, and I shall apply myself to the task of acquiring a suitable amount of it. I do so dislike beginning an interpersonal situation at a disadvantage, and -- having looked at the larger schedule and all the considerations that must be taken into account -- I am clearly at a disadvantage in my balance-ledger with her! (I almost regret my proposal to make such sweeping changes to the curriculum -- and then I think of what I've learned of my illustrious predecessor and the style and remit of her instruction, and the feeling passes. Quickly.)
I believe that is the last of the outstanding items of business from last night, save for me also to say that I am grateful for your cautions regarding allowing oneself to be overwhelmed by a tightly-packed schedule (particularly, though you were quite kind not to call mention to it, given my status as convalescent, one distinction of which I cannot rid myself soon enough). Gruelling though my schedule may be, I am quite used to keeping such hours, from the work I have been doing for Our Lord -- and I can assure you, what your research and stargazing is for you, teaching is for me. Ask your Razzer if you doubt me: I am never more content than I am in the moment when the light of comprehension first dawns in a student's eyes.
And speaking of he: there was a brief fashion in my childhood for Muggle literature; do you know the novel Peter Pan; or, the Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up, or its titular character? (If not, I've a copy to lend, should the prospect intrigue; my library is not all old and dire, and the bottomless book-trunk has joined me at Hogwarts along with much of its contents. Though, likely impolitic to be seen reading it these days; you are welcome to borrow my sitting-room as well.) Have often suspected Razzer was cast as the Peter of our company long ago, and certain comments made in my hearing indicate a concerted effort to place you in the role of his Wendy. Darling though you might be (a reference to the text, I assure you) -- it is clear to see the changes in him must predate your happy acquaintance. I do look forward to renewing my ties and becoming familiar with the person he's made of himself.
In the meantime -- by end of week I'm certain I will be in dire need of company above the age of maturity, particularly after Thursday. (One hour's grace in my schedule between 10AM and 5PM. Say it with me: it is an adventure.) If you've time on Friday after 4PM and before your night's classes, or on Saturday or Sunday, I'd be pleased to offer a glass of wine (or another cup of coffee, if you haven't made up your mind on whether you enjoyed it or no), and we could discuss that text you mentioned last week. I could not promise any form of swift turnaround on a formal translation -- you've seen my schedule -- but at very least, could read it aloud to you and provide a very rough rendition; Arabic was indeed one of my childhood tongues, and one I retain fluency in.
Raz is, of course, welcome as well -- I imagine you never get enough time together and would be loathe to surrender even a moment of it -- but I do suspect it would take more than a decade for his itchy wand hand whenever two conversational partners apply themselves to the minutiae of research to disperse. I assure you, though, I will not be offended in the least if you choose time with him over me. The offer will be open as long as it needs.
Longwindedly, but with utmost affection,
A