I am sitting in a pleasant living room, with morning light streaming in two large doors from the clear blue sky beyond. A bundle of purrs is grooming herself at my feet while her sister prowls beneath the coffee table. Inevitably cat hair is getting onto my keyboard. A mild sinus headache is pinching the bridge of my nose and drumming at my temples, but otherwise, the overarching word is pleasant. Across from me on the couch sits Sarah, reading Oliver Twist. I’m in Albuquerque for a last few days of vacation.
It was a little weird going with Sarah to UNM yesterday, the university I almost went to for graduate school. I realized this when we got off the bus in the morning, my Timbuk2 bag heavy with Caspian and books I would amuse myself with while she was in class. I met people I might have been friends with, we sat beneath a tree by the duck pond while we ate lunch, listening to conversations I might have had if I had heard the same lecture, seen the same classmates. But it wasn’t with nostalgia or regret that I thought these things: instead, a mild and detached curiosity. I did quite a bit of woolgathering for Bede and read half of VSI: The Anglo-Saxon Age. This morning I got emails from Sandra, the PG English secretary. The days are tumbling forward and soon I will be seeing and knowing the things I have waited so long to see and know about Scotland.
Yesterday, as we were leaving UNM, I saw a sign in the English dept for a Masters of English in Madrid… it was for the program at SLU. I have become so caught up in planning for Scotland that I have been neglecting SLU. “One year at a time,” but also, I needed the reminder.
Today we’re going to lunch with Sarah’s friends from UNM, and go to the UNM Museum of Anthropology, at Taco Cabana and go to Page One, Too bookstore, and will watch Dear Frankie, because it’s set in Scotland. [Thoughts on the RNC later.]