31 May 2011
28 May 2011
Now Playing: Tchaikovsky, Symphony No. 6, "Pathetique."
This afternoon Cindy and Scott came over, and the three of us drove out to Yellowwood State Forest to hike. The drive into the forest was barely marked and turned out to be a pitted gravel road, slashed across by shallow creeks, which Cindy’s small Ford Focus bumped across. We walked a 4.5-mile trail that ran in a long loop around the lake.
The trail ran up and down the spurs of the hills. It snaked up into small valleys between hills in order to ford creeks where they were narrower, before they fanned out into marshes around the lake. We splashed across several small creeks on flat stones, the clear, shallow water flowing fast under ferns. On the hillsides marched the great beeches, red and white oaks, and sugar maples. Massive: the beeches with skin-smooth silver bark, the white oaks with deeply corrugated pale bark, the red oaks with their darker, more finely ridged exteriors. On the hillsides across the lake, sycamores made splashes of celadon against the jungle green of the other trees. We entered arcades of pine trees, again, straight, immensely tall. Our feet were silenced on pine needles, and that wonderful, aromatic smell mixed with the smell of masses of wild white roses growing over fallen trees.
We came across a much larger creek, dammed with fallen logs. Scott tried to teach Cindy how to skip rocks on a wide patch of smooth, deep water. We walked through a pine wood, absolutely silent, and then back up into the hardwood forest again. The forest was almost absolutely silent. As dusk fell the light deepened almost imperceptibly, until we were walking in a silent greenness. The wind rose in the trees. We finally came out at the dam at the bottom of the lake, where people were fishing. Wild daisies, red clover, and spiderwort were growing there, with Queen-Anne’s-lace.
The trail required that we cross below the dam, but because of the amount of water flowing over the spillway, we turned back and took the road instead. By this time it was nearly seven. We marched on the extra half-mile to the trailhead. The drive back to Bloomington was lovely: the sun was just seeping through the clouds. Sheets of water on either side of the road shimmered in its vague light—so much water in the fields after all the storms! In Bloomington we went to Kroger to buy things to grill. Courtney came over to our house, and Lindsay came downstairs from her room and joined us.
Starting the fire on the grill was an adventure. I didn’t put on enough lighter fluid to begin with, so it took several attempts with the lighter and quantities more lighter fluid (thanks to Scott) before the coals were actually burning. We finally put the top on the grill and left it to sit and heat, while we sat inside, snacking and talking. When the coals were hot enough, I went outside to put brats and hot dogs on the grill. Smell of smoke. Cool outdoors. Watched the clouds continue to roll away from the periwinkle sky.
When the meat was ready, we all sat around the small table, eating hot dogs, brats, chips, fresh cilantro…. Suitably summery. We made s’mores, too, of course. Oddly enough, by this time the coals were properly on fire and extremely hot. Those perfect little rose-petal flames simmering endlessly over the coals. It would’ve been easy to cook meat on them by now, but it had taken them so long to get to this temperature!
Three leggy Mayflies snuck into the living room, and a big Junebug buzzed onto my shirt and, when I flicked it off, slammed into the porch light. At about eleven Scott, Cindy, and Courtney went home. Sleeping with the windows open tonight for perhaps the last time for awhile—it’s supposed to be hot this week.
19 May 2011
Now Playing: Second verse, same as the first.
It's been a busy few weeks since summer session has started. Lisa and I have French every afternoon from 1:10-2:30 p.m. supposedly, although the instructor usually ends about ten minutes early. Tomorrow we have our first exam, and I'm trying to understand direct object pronouns and verb tenses. Been revising my notes since class ended this afternoon. Lindsay is also taking summer classes, though hers, which are in the counseling program, are much more intense.
You might say that that doesn't sound too busy, but somehow since the summer term began our house has contrived to have a crazy social schedule on top of coursework. Last Thursday, of course, was Poetry Dinner III, which featured readings from Jorge Luis Borges and Dr. Seuss, among others. Saturday night Laura grilled for us, and we made s'mores afterward on the back porch over the hot coals. It's been chilly here, so we were all bundled up in blankets.
Monday was Scott's birthday party, which we hosted: mostly people from church. In order to carry on the grand tradition started by Laura-my-sister (remember that angel food cake we baked from scratch last year?), I made a chocolate cake from scratch out of the Joy of Cooking book. It took a solid hour to make, but the process is half the fun (until your wrists start to ache from using the beater for so long!), and anyway, the results were worth it.
Apart from having the luxury of time to spend with people, though, it's also been good to have time for other things: staying on top of e-mail, practicing my flute again, baking scones, a bit of gardening, and reading Dorothy Sayers mysteries. Lisa has been blazing through the Harry Potter books; she's on number five right now, and Laura and I giggle delightedly whenever she drags herself away for long enough to tell us how great Sirius is or whatever.
It's been a busy few weeks since summer session has started. Lisa and I have French every afternoon from 1:10-2:30 p.m. supposedly, although the instructor usually ends about ten minutes early. Tomorrow we have our first exam, and I'm trying to understand direct object pronouns and verb tenses. Been revising my notes since class ended this afternoon. Lindsay is also taking summer classes, though hers, which are in the counseling program, are much more intense.
You might say that that doesn't sound too busy, but somehow since the summer term began our house has contrived to have a crazy social schedule on top of coursework. Last Thursday, of course, was Poetry Dinner III, which featured readings from Jorge Luis Borges and Dr. Seuss, among others. Saturday night Laura grilled for us, and we made s'mores afterward on the back porch over the hot coals. It's been chilly here, so we were all bundled up in blankets.
Monday was Scott's birthday party, which we hosted: mostly people from church. In order to carry on the grand tradition started by Laura-my-sister (remember that angel food cake we baked from scratch last year?), I made a chocolate cake from scratch out of the Joy of Cooking book. It took a solid hour to make, but the process is half the fun (until your wrists start to ache from using the beater for so long!), and anyway, the results were worth it.
Apart from having the luxury of time to spend with people, though, it's also been good to have time for other things: staying on top of e-mail, practicing my flute again, baking scones, a bit of gardening, and reading Dorothy Sayers mysteries. Lisa has been blazing through the Harry Potter books; she's on number five right now, and Laura and I giggle delightedly whenever she drags herself away for long enough to tell us how great Sirius is or whatever.
14 May 2011
13 May 2011
Now Playing: The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers soundtrack.
Last night we had a fantastic party, the third in our poetry-reading sequence. The theme: monsters. Carmen painted these glorious little creatures as favors for everyone to take home after the festivities were over.
We filled the back seat of Scott's car with plants this week, mostly for his garden. But our house also now has plants: a pot of cilantro, one of oregano, one of parsley, and one of basil, all duly fertilized and watered this morning before class.
22 April 2011
Now Playing: Bach, Violin Concerto in E Major, BWV 1041.
One of the pleasures of being in grad school: sitting at the dining room table, watching a thunderstorm approach, while writing the conclusion to my paper on Heaney's Beowulf. Beside me Scott is working on a paper on the Lutheran appreciation for early modern anatomical texts, and across the table Mary is writing an essay for her Italian take-home exam about comedy and fencing. Tea and biscuits. Soon rain will be rattling against the glass.
One of the pleasures of being in grad school: sitting at the dining room table, watching a thunderstorm approach, while writing the conclusion to my paper on Heaney's Beowulf. Beside me Scott is working on a paper on the Lutheran appreciation for early modern anatomical texts, and across the table Mary is writing an essay for her Italian take-home exam about comedy and fencing. Tea and biscuits. Soon rain will be rattling against the glass.
20 April 2011
18 April 2011
Now Playing: Tchaikovsky, Symphony No. 6, "Pathetique."
Today has actually been decent for the most part. After breakfast I went for a run. There's one house that I love to run past down in one of the neighborhoods: it's covered with weather-darkened grey shingles, and outside it grow a big redbud tree, covered thickly with those tiny, vibrant purple flowers, and just below that a big dogwood tree, also covered with flowers, but its flowers a pale green, as though each petal were a tiny china saucer. Love the contrast of the white dogwood against the vivid redbud against the dark shingles.
I did my quiet time outside this morning. The morning was extremely windy from the southwest, so I bundled up in a blanket and propped my Bible open with my phone while I read. I spent the morning grappling with the paper for L746. For some reason writing about Heaney is extremely difficult. A good deal of staring blankly at the screen and at the piles of notes I'd arranged around my desk occupied the morning. I listened to Vivaldi's Four Seasons and to Bach and Mozart flute concerti. At about one I got completely fed up with the paper and took a break to eat lunch.
After lunch I worked for another hour or so, and then I wheeled my bike out of the garage, where it's been in dormancy all winter. Thankfully there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it aside from the tyres being flat. I biked to Kroger, bought a pint of cherry tomatoes, a red onion, and a container of part-skim ricotta, and biked home. The afternoon was warm: one of these variable spring days, where the sky is a pasty Easter-egg blue color, and the wind comes and goes in gusts through the new leaves, restless. Again I sat outside on the back patio, with my arms and legs bare to the sun, and read Middlemarch for class tomorrow. Starlings, robins, and a thrasher working their way through the detritus on the hillside made noises like plastic bags rustling in the wind.
At about half five I started to make tea. Laura came home. She and I worked in the kitchen together. On my countertop I sliced up the red onion (skin dark purple and silky) and cherry tomatoes, sauteed chicken, boiled pasta. On her countertop she mixed and kneaded dough for cinnamon rolls. Laura, Lindsay, and I ate tea together, discussing wedding invitations: our household seems to have received a sudden influx of them.
After washing the dishes, I biked downtown to meet Mary and Carmen for dessert. We ended up walking up the square to Tallent, a ritzy local restaurant where Carmen worked as a waitress last summer. I felt definitely underdressed--surrounded by people in suits and dresses, in an atmosphere of dim lights and sleek earth tones on the walls, with waitstaff dressed all in black gliding about.
The three of us had a delightful time, though. We ordered carrot cake with cardamom-flavored ice cream, a rhubarb ganache with rosewater-and-pepper flavored ice cream, and a chocolate tart with mint whipped cream and an espresso swirl. So, so delicious. The best part was watching Mary's faces while she ate: when she took the first bite of the ganache, she shut her eyes and fanned herself with her hand, her mouth spreading into a loopy smile. "If this had been the Victorian era, that would've been a swoon!" Carmen laughed.
We sat around and talked for quite awhile, and then we went for a walk, down Walnut, up Fourth Street (where the smells of the Indian restaurants--curry, cinnamon, garlic, cloves--embraced us), and onto campus. Through Dunnes Woods, where rabbits hopped across the path in the silent gloaming under the trees. Campus is incredibly peaceful at night: an expansive, luxuriant silence, the silence of aisles of trees, of empty buildings, elegant, restful. Down past the IMU, and so up Kirkwood, past all the restaurants and bars, people sitting outside at cafe tables, talking, laughing, TVs flashing and stereos playing through open doors and windows, the smells of cigarette smoke, barbecue smoke, grease. And so up past the library and back toward the square. We said good-bye where I had parked my bike.
I walked part of the way home, talking to Scott on the phone until my battery gave out. Biked the rest of the way. At home Laura was helping Lisa write her resume. It's gotten chilly outside, so I closed my window, but I can still hear the sigh of the woods through Lindsay's window. It had started to sprinkle a bit as I wheeled my bike into the garage.
Today has actually been decent for the most part. After breakfast I went for a run. There's one house that I love to run past down in one of the neighborhoods: it's covered with weather-darkened grey shingles, and outside it grow a big redbud tree, covered thickly with those tiny, vibrant purple flowers, and just below that a big dogwood tree, also covered with flowers, but its flowers a pale green, as though each petal were a tiny china saucer. Love the contrast of the white dogwood against the vivid redbud against the dark shingles.
I did my quiet time outside this morning. The morning was extremely windy from the southwest, so I bundled up in a blanket and propped my Bible open with my phone while I read. I spent the morning grappling with the paper for L746. For some reason writing about Heaney is extremely difficult. A good deal of staring blankly at the screen and at the piles of notes I'd arranged around my desk occupied the morning. I listened to Vivaldi's Four Seasons and to Bach and Mozart flute concerti. At about one I got completely fed up with the paper and took a break to eat lunch.
After lunch I worked for another hour or so, and then I wheeled my bike out of the garage, where it's been in dormancy all winter. Thankfully there didn't seem to be anything wrong with it aside from the tyres being flat. I biked to Kroger, bought a pint of cherry tomatoes, a red onion, and a container of part-skim ricotta, and biked home. The afternoon was warm: one of these variable spring days, where the sky is a pasty Easter-egg blue color, and the wind comes and goes in gusts through the new leaves, restless. Again I sat outside on the back patio, with my arms and legs bare to the sun, and read Middlemarch for class tomorrow. Starlings, robins, and a thrasher working their way through the detritus on the hillside made noises like plastic bags rustling in the wind.
At about half five I started to make tea. Laura came home. She and I worked in the kitchen together. On my countertop I sliced up the red onion (skin dark purple and silky) and cherry tomatoes, sauteed chicken, boiled pasta. On her countertop she mixed and kneaded dough for cinnamon rolls. Laura, Lindsay, and I ate tea together, discussing wedding invitations: our household seems to have received a sudden influx of them.
After washing the dishes, I biked downtown to meet Mary and Carmen for dessert. We ended up walking up the square to Tallent, a ritzy local restaurant where Carmen worked as a waitress last summer. I felt definitely underdressed--surrounded by people in suits and dresses, in an atmosphere of dim lights and sleek earth tones on the walls, with waitstaff dressed all in black gliding about.
The three of us had a delightful time, though. We ordered carrot cake with cardamom-flavored ice cream, a rhubarb ganache with rosewater-and-pepper flavored ice cream, and a chocolate tart with mint whipped cream and an espresso swirl. So, so delicious. The best part was watching Mary's faces while she ate: when she took the first bite of the ganache, she shut her eyes and fanned herself with her hand, her mouth spreading into a loopy smile. "If this had been the Victorian era, that would've been a swoon!" Carmen laughed.
We sat around and talked for quite awhile, and then we went for a walk, down Walnut, up Fourth Street (where the smells of the Indian restaurants--curry, cinnamon, garlic, cloves--embraced us), and onto campus. Through Dunnes Woods, where rabbits hopped across the path in the silent gloaming under the trees. Campus is incredibly peaceful at night: an expansive, luxuriant silence, the silence of aisles of trees, of empty buildings, elegant, restful. Down past the IMU, and so up Kirkwood, past all the restaurants and bars, people sitting outside at cafe tables, talking, laughing, TVs flashing and stereos playing through open doors and windows, the smells of cigarette smoke, barbecue smoke, grease. And so up past the library and back toward the square. We said good-bye where I had parked my bike.
I walked part of the way home, talking to Scott on the phone until my battery gave out. Biked the rest of the way. At home Laura was helping Lisa write her resume. It's gotten chilly outside, so I closed my window, but I can still hear the sigh of the woods through Lindsay's window. It had started to sprinkle a bit as I wheeled my bike into the garage.
15 April 2011
Lisa sent this out this morning from Charles Spurgeon's Morning and Evening.
“Say ye to the righteous, that it shall be well with him.”
Isaiah 3:10
It is well with the righteous always. If it had said, “Say ye to the righteous, that it is well with him in his prosperity,” we must have been thankful for so great a boon, for prosperity is an hour of peril, and it is a gift from heaven to be secured from its snares: or if it had been written, “It is well with him when under persecution,” we must have been thankful for so sustaining an assurance, for persecution is hard to bear; but when no time is mentioned, all time is included. God’s “shalls” must be understood always in their largest sense. From the beginning of the year to the end of the year, from the first gathering of evening shadows until the day-star shines, in all conditions and under all circumstances, it shall be well with the righteous. It is so well with him that we could not imagine it to be better, for he is well fed, he feeds upon the flesh and blood of Jesus; he is well clothed, he wears the imputed righteousness of Christ; he is well housed, he dwells in God; he is well married, his soul is knit in bonds of marriage union to Christ; he is well provided for, for the Lord is his Shepherd; he is well endowed, for heaven is his inheritance. It is well with the righteous—well upon divine authority; the mouth of God speaks the comforting assurance. O beloved, if God declares that all is well, ten thousand devils may declare it to be ill, but we laugh them all to scorn. Blessed be God for a faith which enables us to believe God when the creatures contradict him. It is, says the Word, at all times well with thee, thou righteous one; then, beloved, if thou canst not see it, let God’s word stand thee in stead of sight; yea, believe it on divine authority more confidently than if thine eyes and thy feelings told it to thee. Whom God blesses is blest indeed, and what his lip declares is truth most sure and steadfast.
14 April 2011
09 April 2011
Now Playing: Bach, Orchestral Suite No. 3 in D minor, BWV 1068: Gigue.
Although it's probably been overplayed, the Air to this particular suite is absolutely beautiful. One of the pleasures in life right now: sitting on my bedroom floor with the window partly open, listening to the tail end of a magnificent thunderstorm. Rain on the eaves, thunder, and a sparrow singing somewhere. When I woke up this morning, the sky was overcast, so overcast, in fact, that I couldn't even see the university library from my window. Everything was very still and humid; it felt as though the rain had already come--but no, a couple of hours later, we were treated to a smack-down, bang-up thunderstorm, complete with thunder, lightning, sheets of rain, and probably some hail. Quite majestic.
This has been a week for catching up with people. Monday I got to hear firsthand about how wonderful Cyprus is from Elizabeth; yesterday Nicole described her wedding plans; this morning Emmaline caught me up on teaching, Renwick dinners, and the latest engagements in N.I., and hopefully this afternoon and tomorrow I'll get to talk to Amy and Anna.
Somehow all of that is happening around the work that's going on at the same time! So far, I'm pretty much ready to present an article on open syllable lengthening in Middle English in class on Tuesday, and to turn in the last short paper for Middlemarch. Neither one of these projects feels particularly secure as far as quality of work, but then I never feel particularly secure when handing anything in for Middlemarch, and phonetics has never been my strong point (as far as linguistics, I prefer lexis--vocabulary--like a good poet!). This afternoon the goal is to prepare for the Middle English paper that's due in two weeks.
Writing blog posts is rather frustrating because it simply can't capture the subtext of everything else that's been going on here for the past few months, especially over the last few weeks. Trying to come to terms with God's goodness, to accept the fact that He loves me--while being stressed and exhausted from work. But His love is so glaringly obvious right now that I simply can't ignore it. Which is probably a very, very, very good thing.
Although it's probably been overplayed, the Air to this particular suite is absolutely beautiful. One of the pleasures in life right now: sitting on my bedroom floor with the window partly open, listening to the tail end of a magnificent thunderstorm. Rain on the eaves, thunder, and a sparrow singing somewhere. When I woke up this morning, the sky was overcast, so overcast, in fact, that I couldn't even see the university library from my window. Everything was very still and humid; it felt as though the rain had already come--but no, a couple of hours later, we were treated to a smack-down, bang-up thunderstorm, complete with thunder, lightning, sheets of rain, and probably some hail. Quite majestic.
This has been a week for catching up with people. Monday I got to hear firsthand about how wonderful Cyprus is from Elizabeth; yesterday Nicole described her wedding plans; this morning Emmaline caught me up on teaching, Renwick dinners, and the latest engagements in N.I., and hopefully this afternoon and tomorrow I'll get to talk to Amy and Anna.
Somehow all of that is happening around the work that's going on at the same time! So far, I'm pretty much ready to present an article on open syllable lengthening in Middle English in class on Tuesday, and to turn in the last short paper for Middlemarch. Neither one of these projects feels particularly secure as far as quality of work, but then I never feel particularly secure when handing anything in for Middlemarch, and phonetics has never been my strong point (as far as linguistics, I prefer lexis--vocabulary--like a good poet!). This afternoon the goal is to prepare for the Middle English paper that's due in two weeks.
Writing blog posts is rather frustrating because it simply can't capture the subtext of everything else that's been going on here for the past few months, especially over the last few weeks. Trying to come to terms with God's goodness, to accept the fact that He loves me--while being stressed and exhausted from work. But His love is so glaringly obvious right now that I simply can't ignore it. Which is probably a very, very, very good thing.
06 April 2011
Now Playing: Bach, Concerto for Violin, Strings, and Continuo in A minor, BWV 1041.
I love this movement from this concerto!
Today before book history, I walked around campus and took a few photos. Unfortunately my camera wasn't too happy with the lighting, but even though it didn't capture the buds coming out on the trees very well, it did capture how beautiful their branches were against the noon sky.
This hillside was covered with daffodils a couple of weeks ago. They're still quite glorious and smell wonderfully of pollen.
I love this movement from this concerto!
Today before book history, I walked around campus and took a few photos. Unfortunately my camera wasn't too happy with the lighting, but even though it didn't capture the buds coming out on the trees very well, it did capture how beautiful their branches were against the noon sky.
This hillside was covered with daffodils a couple of weeks ago. They're still quite glorious and smell wonderfully of pollen.
01 April 2011
Now Playing: Bach, Mass in B Minor, "Osanna, Benedictus, Agnus Dei, Dona Nobis Pacem/Chorus: Osanna."
The first day of April finds me buried under mounds of white rabbits! and schoolwork. Peter, Lindsay, and Laura are downstairs watching Disney's Sleeping Beauty (which is wonderfully dated by the voice of its narrator and the chorus that sings during the first few minutes). But I've been upstairs all evening, listening to Brahms's and Mozart's Requiems, and now finishing Bach's Mass, all in a valiant attempt to impose some order on my extremely chaotic notes.
For the book history seminar this term, I'm writing a paper about Heaney's rendition of Beowulf, which has involved reading all sorts of articles, customer reviews on Amazon.com, manuscripts in the Lilly, press releases, book reviews, etc.
It turns out that one of the professors who assisted Heaney with the translation happens to be emeritus at IU and donated all of his correspondence about the translation process to the Lilly when he retired. Thanks to him, the Lilly has a large white box full of faxes, e-mails, letters, reviews, newspaper clippings, and endless page proofs, all having to do with Heaney's Beowulf.
So I've been spending afternoons in the Lilly recently, while outside the weather can't decide whether to be warm or cold, and daffodils bloom prolifically under all the trees.
The first day of April finds me buried under mounds of white rabbits! and schoolwork. Peter, Lindsay, and Laura are downstairs watching Disney's Sleeping Beauty (which is wonderfully dated by the voice of its narrator and the chorus that sings during the first few minutes). But I've been upstairs all evening, listening to Brahms's and Mozart's Requiems, and now finishing Bach's Mass, all in a valiant attempt to impose some order on my extremely chaotic notes.
For the book history seminar this term, I'm writing a paper about Heaney's rendition of Beowulf, which has involved reading all sorts of articles, customer reviews on Amazon.com, manuscripts in the Lilly, press releases, book reviews, etc.
It turns out that one of the professors who assisted Heaney with the translation happens to be emeritus at IU and donated all of his correspondence about the translation process to the Lilly when he retired. Thanks to him, the Lilly has a large white box full of faxes, e-mails, letters, reviews, newspaper clippings, and endless page proofs, all having to do with Heaney's Beowulf.
So I've been spending afternoons in the Lilly recently, while outside the weather can't decide whether to be warm or cold, and daffodils bloom prolifically under all the trees.
28 March 2011
Now Playing: Felix Mendelssohn, "Overture: The Hebrides."
Went for a very, very long walk yesterday. Though it was a bit chilly, it was so good to be outside! There are lots of saucer magnolias on 1st St., near the church, and several of the trees are in full bloom, absolutely gorgeous.
I also walked down the southernmost part of the B-Line. This particular corner of this field always makes me think of N.I.
There's a lovely footbridge at the end of the B-Line.
I also walked down the southernmost part of the B-Line. This particular corner of this field always makes me think of N.I.
22 March 2011
Now Playing: Corelli, Violin Sonata in A, Op. 5.
The race to the finish has begun, so I may not be posting much in the next six weeks. Tonight I made a list of all the big deadlines coming up: the first one is 12 April and the last 3 May, at least if professors leave everything where it is now. Between now and then, I have to lead discussion twice, write three papers, one of them a twenty-five-pager, and potentially take a final exam if the midterm today in Middle English didn't go well, which is a distinct possibility, despite my best efforts to the contrary.
On the upside, daffodils are blooming on campus, on the hillside below Bryan House, which is the President's house and sits like a gem at the center of a small diamond of woodland and gardens. I sat outside this afternoon briefly and admired the daffodils and watched a titmouse. It's wonderful that the weather is mild enough to sit outside again, although that won't last for very long!
Despite the amount of work that lies ahead, I've really been spending a ridiculously small amount of time working lately. On Saturday Laura invited people over for a barbecue, and it turned into a party somehow. She bought a wee charcoal grill a couple of weeks ago, and this was its maiden voyage, complete with marinaded chicken, bell peppers, onions, and pineapple. Quite delicious, as you can imagine.
The race to the finish has begun, so I may not be posting much in the next six weeks. Tonight I made a list of all the big deadlines coming up: the first one is 12 April and the last 3 May, at least if professors leave everything where it is now. Between now and then, I have to lead discussion twice, write three papers, one of them a twenty-five-pager, and potentially take a final exam if the midterm today in Middle English didn't go well, which is a distinct possibility, despite my best efforts to the contrary.
On the upside, daffodils are blooming on campus, on the hillside below Bryan House, which is the President's house and sits like a gem at the center of a small diamond of woodland and gardens. I sat outside this afternoon briefly and admired the daffodils and watched a titmouse. It's wonderful that the weather is mild enough to sit outside again, although that won't last for very long!
Despite the amount of work that lies ahead, I've really been spending a ridiculously small amount of time working lately. On Saturday Laura invited people over for a barbecue, and it turned into a party somehow. She bought a wee charcoal grill a couple of weeks ago, and this was its maiden voyage, complete with marinaded chicken, bell peppers, onions, and pineapple. Quite delicious, as you can imagine.
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