Could explain my crappy celery though.
Liz, perhaps you should have tried to find, quickly, whether you had an ancestor named "Celerity"?

Amos
You've just reminded me of a lecturer I had at uni. Maggie had been a major in the army during WWII, was a member of the Soroptemists, had a (usually friendly but) forceful and large presence and specialised in genetics. The second year Ag Sci students were a rowdy bunch, as they spent the week stuck on a teaching farm at Derrimut, away from the city and came up to the Melbourne campus only one day a week for lectures and pracs in particular subjects; genetics was one such subject.

One week, Maggie was absent for this lecture and delegated Ilma to give it in her place. Ilma was tiny, petite in manner and stature, and unused to rowdiness. The Ag students rode roughshod over her for the entire lecture, with such noise that I came out of my lab to find out what was going on; I was merely a postgrad student at the time but was still concerned. Ilma left the lecture in tears and I took her away for a cup of tea.

Maggie sought me out after she returned and I told her what had happened. "Right!" she said. "I'll fix them!"

At the appointed time for that lecture the following week, I stood outside the back door of the lecture theatre (it was highly raked) and watched Maggie describe their behaviour as appallingly uncivilised, that the following material was going to be the topic of several questions on the exam paper and then proceeded to give one lecture orally, while writing another with her right hand on one end of the board and, simultaneously, write yet another with her left hand on the other end of the board.

Spectacular!

Cheers, Rowan