Without peer.

Tonight we saw The Class, which is pretty much the best film I have ever seen about teaching, classrooms, students, and education as a social enterprise.  Everyone should run to see it, as fast as you can, so we can all talk about it.

This was but one activity in a pretty much terrific Saturday that involved: 

• a long and loving reading of the sports pages, post the Jazz win, with
• muffins, after which 
• a walk with the dog under a perfectly clear, perfectly blue sky, and then
• dropping clothes off and picking clothes up at the cleaners, and then
• buying vegetables and eggs from Chad and Chad's dad, followed by
• a lunch with the historian's son and his family, which led to 
• visits to several furniture consignment stores at which we were looking for nothing at all, and 
• a visit to Ken Sanders, then
• the movie, after which we drove to the Red Iguana which had scads of people milling around waiting to get in, so we skedaddled along Redwood Road, and had
• dinner at a new-to-us Mexican restaurant.  

Just as we were sipping (in my case, guzzling) the last of our Cokes, the historian said to me: "I wonder how late that new Nordstrom is open?"  

I said I figured it'd be open till 9.  

He said, "Would it be okay if, after we finish here, we went and looked around a little bit?"

The historian does not like to shop, a dislike which extends to pretty much all places where shopping takes place, such as department stores, malls, and department stores located in malls. But he loves me, which is why this brought tears to my eyes.  Yes, the people, I was brought to tears over a Coke in a west side Mexican restaurant because my husband offered to take me to the mall.  So we went, and it was glorious and shiny, and then we came home, to find that West Jordan took the 5-A state championship, which I find absurdly gratifying.  Actually, I taught their coach in an Intro to Lit class at the University.  I'm pretty sure, therefore and ergo, that I had A LOT to do with their victory tonight.  Boo ya!