This weekend almost doesn’t fit in one post. Saturday, we had Thanksgiving at the Sharpes’. My mother brought corn meal all the way from Texas in order to make corn bread, to the enjoyment of several Southern and Western American ex-pats. We had quite a spread. In addition to the turkey, polenta, cornbread, mashed potatoes, stuffing, turnip-something, two types of cranberry sauce, two types of gravy, pecan/cheese biscuits, sweet potatoes, and waldorf salad, we had three types of pie (pecan, pumpkin, fudge walnut) and apple crumble and ice cream. And we watched the Peanuts Thanksgiving, and, of course, had an overall great time.
As you may have noticed, my NaNoWriMo badge has changed from “participant” to “Winner!” and my word count widget has remained stationary at a triumphant 50,194 words. I finished The Faerie King on Sunday, 29 November, a full day early. According to the first response from my most faithful reader, I have succeeded in writing not only a fun story, but a fantasy one, and a funny one at that. And before I can say, ‘Now what do I do?’ I remind myself that I have Bede to edit. But hey, a month ago, I didn’t have a novel. Now I do.
Oh, and then on Monday I graduated. I knelt before the university chancellor in front of an auditorium of people, and the chancellor said, ‘Et super te’, tapped me on the head with a three hundred-year-old cap (rumoured to be made out of John Knox’s breeches), and I was made Master of Letters. Most of the ceremony was in Latin. When the University Court processed out of the hall, the graduates followed them and we walked down North Street to Sallie’s Quad. For me, the most magical moment was walking beneath the double arches of Sallies—it truly felt like Harry Potter.
Monday was also St Andrew’s Day. My mom and I went to the castle, because it had free admission. The town piping band led a procession down South Street and Castle Street. Some people carried torches and there was this sense of camaraderie as we marched alongside other townspeople under the bright full moon; this deep sense of doing something old, something that people in this town have done for hundreds of years. The procession led to a stage of some sort set up on the Scores where there was a modern music and dance performance of a story of Cuchulainn, but I couldn’t quite follow it. But there was fire, and that is always exciting.