Hints of spring

It’s been a busy few days since I last posted so I guess I should catch up. My special topic on Arthurian Legends finally met last Thursday. It turned out alright despite the extra students, though the level of discussion was perhaps not as academic as I would have liked. On Friday I worked on “Masterpiece” for most of the day, interrupted only to watch Dear Frankie at DRA. Friday, I’ve decided, is a good day to have as my sabbath. Because most of my classes are on Monday and Tuesday, I really need both days of the weekend to prepare. Felicity and I have begun going to 666 on Saturday mornings and spending the day there. It’s been quite productive.

This past Saturday the used book tables reappeared on Market Street. They usually don’t have books that I’m looking for but this time they had a great selection. I bought The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood and Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro, both of which were on my Dystopian list. I, er, have now set an ultimatum that I am not allowed to buy any more books until I’ve read half of what I’ve bought the last month. Other than buying cheap books, I spent the weekend memorizing 250 Old English words, reading parts of the Mabinogion, and beginning Froissart’s Chronicles. I nearly didn’t want to go to Latin this morning because my head was full of Old English, but Dr M-S didn’t call on me to translate because I was the only one in the class who knew what “in apposition” meant. Then in Old English we had a vocab quiz and did some unseen translations from an Anglo-Saxon martyrology. I still need to work on my definite articles and verb endings, but getting the sense of the text wasn’t too difficult. And, poor Cassianus, he was killed by his own students:

On the same day is the festival of the martyr St Cassianus, who was a teacher of youths in the law of God. But a pagan emperor came there who allowed the children to kill him with their slates and to stab him with their pencils, and his martyrdom was the longer and the heavier, as their hands were too weak to kill him.

Er, on a happier note, it’s beginning to look like spring!:

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