So last night I happened to run into my math coach by the Greek seafood restaurant near where the tall waiter has stalked Joephet and indeed one drunken night (the same night I went to his place at 3 am, couldn't budge him and had to go home--on a schoolnight) walked Joephet home. It was pleasant to see him and to meet his geeky but adorable Slavic sons and his Slavic wife. I used to have a Slavic fetish, but of course they tend to balloon at some unspecified age, but Russian is still a great language to learn.

The days have been going well, even if I am still frustrated by the didactic procedural fixities of some of my colleagues. It's a tall order, but I don't have all that much choice in the end, somehow, and it's been encouraging to be exposed to the good stuff out there: I have tended too much to focus on reinventing rather than reengineering, and will be posting someplace the activities I have planned: makes me want to create an edirectory of my lesson and unit plans, as I suspect that even the new future colleagues at my new school might not exactly be yet in the twenty-first century pedagogically or even mathematically.

And this is the altered mindset I'm in these days--reading Freudenthal on the train I felt like I was reading useful Wittgenstein, these pseudo-didactic but actually liberating margin-jagged wanderings through ordinary language, predating my current tendencies by nearly two decades at least. So it's good to know there's amrket for this stuff, somehow.