Stories of yes-es, of frogs making messes.
Just had a very bad moment, so I shall tell you of good things to make myself better.
Last evening, after leaving a meeting which had left me feeling quite bleh and blah, I got some soup from food services and took it over to the fine arts center. I intended to sit in the lobby, eat my nice hot soup, and finish A Million Little Pieces (which I'm reading for my writing class). It was snowing in that way that makes everything hushed, and it was soft and glittering and piling up at least three inches in the flattest parts - and when you've been lucky to have even an inch throughout the winter so far, three inches is a wonderful blessing. So I had a delightful walk, and then I sat and had my delicious soup. Shortly, I was joined by Steph of Lady Bracknell fame; we chatted and had a lovely conversation.
I relish truly good conversations, ones which span over all types of topics, from the relatively trivial (Do you think we'll have a snow day tomorrow?) to that which can be either trivial or more personal (Gentlemen, oy.) to truly more personal and deep-rooted difficult topics. Furthermore, we were visited at different times by three lovely folks - incidentally, all of them were dears from the days of Earnest (Chasuble, Jack, and dear Gwendolyn). Beautiful snow, delicious soup, wonderful company and conversation - it was one of those oasises of near-perfection that one treasures up in one's heart.
After dinner (which occured after the aforementioned events), I returned to my room and did most of my homework. Then as I was across the hall asking Miss Sara about how she was handling one of our assignments and whether she thought my approach sounded reasonable, Leanor popped in and asked, "Sara, do you happen to have a sledding apparatus that I could borrow?" It seems that a number of fine folks from our residence hall were planning to go sled on the hill next to one of the more remote academic buildings (which is also where I work and, ha, where I'm typing this from). Sara and I squealed with glee and not only gathered up sledding materials (storage container lids) but also bundled ourselves up and hurried out into the snow with the others.
Mind you, it was about a quarter to eleven at this point. We tromped across campus to the hill, then began sledding on plastic garbage bags (surprisingly effective) and the one round disc-style sled which Sara borrowed from a friend. (The storage container lids, it turns out, did not make good sleds. At all. Nor did the storage containers themselves, though others certainly did try.) Before long, more people came drifting in, carrying a wealth of sleds with them, as well as a tray from the dining hall. (Apparently sledding on a Gilman tray is a mandatory winter experience. I never tried it, but Sara did. Apparently it's amazing.) We took turns, sometimes doubled up in the disc sleds or tripled up in a long toboggan-style sled (some other folks put four and then five on there at once - fortunately, they missed the lamp post when they reached the bottom of the hill). My gloves were soaked and my fingers frozen, my nose a total snot rocket, and my wrists were stinging as my sleeves kept sliding up and exposing my skin to the snow caked on my clothing - but it was. completely. amazing. I haven't been sledding in years, and I still maintain that it's one of the most joyful and purely fun activities in the world.
After a while, Sara and I decided to leave - we were quite chilled and both had more homework to finish up. We trudged back and got in around midnight, stripped off our outer layers (bottom layers stayed dry!) and hung the clothes over the stall of the storage closet in the bathroom, then made hot cocoa. We then gathered up our homework and took our mugs of cocoa (and her peanut-butter-and-butter sandwich) over to the next dorm. We holed up with Steph-of-Lady-Bracknell-fame, her Merriman, and Zack, drinking cocoa and half-heartedly discussing our assignment that was due this morning. (And actually doing said assignment, eventually.) All in all, perhaps the best day of this semester so far. (Which isn't saying much, since it's only the third week. My point is that it was a good afternoon. Bah!)
I'm going to try to finish my required reading of Shelley as much as possible before I leave work, so toodles, my dears.
Last evening, after leaving a meeting which had left me feeling quite bleh and blah, I got some soup from food services and took it over to the fine arts center. I intended to sit in the lobby, eat my nice hot soup, and finish A Million Little Pieces (which I'm reading for my writing class). It was snowing in that way that makes everything hushed, and it was soft and glittering and piling up at least three inches in the flattest parts - and when you've been lucky to have even an inch throughout the winter so far, three inches is a wonderful blessing. So I had a delightful walk, and then I sat and had my delicious soup. Shortly, I was joined by Steph of Lady Bracknell fame; we chatted and had a lovely conversation.
I relish truly good conversations, ones which span over all types of topics, from the relatively trivial (Do you think we'll have a snow day tomorrow?) to that which can be either trivial or more personal (Gentlemen, oy.) to truly more personal and deep-rooted difficult topics. Furthermore, we were visited at different times by three lovely folks - incidentally, all of them were dears from the days of Earnest (Chasuble, Jack, and dear Gwendolyn). Beautiful snow, delicious soup, wonderful company and conversation - it was one of those oasises of near-perfection that one treasures up in one's heart.
After dinner (which occured after the aforementioned events), I returned to my room and did most of my homework. Then as I was across the hall asking Miss Sara about how she was handling one of our assignments and whether she thought my approach sounded reasonable, Leanor popped in and asked, "Sara, do you happen to have a sledding apparatus that I could borrow?" It seems that a number of fine folks from our residence hall were planning to go sled on the hill next to one of the more remote academic buildings (which is also where I work and, ha, where I'm typing this from). Sara and I squealed with glee and not only gathered up sledding materials (storage container lids) but also bundled ourselves up and hurried out into the snow with the others.
Mind you, it was about a quarter to eleven at this point. We tromped across campus to the hill, then began sledding on plastic garbage bags (surprisingly effective) and the one round disc-style sled which Sara borrowed from a friend. (The storage container lids, it turns out, did not make good sleds. At all. Nor did the storage containers themselves, though others certainly did try.) Before long, more people came drifting in, carrying a wealth of sleds with them, as well as a tray from the dining hall. (Apparently sledding on a Gilman tray is a mandatory winter experience. I never tried it, but Sara did. Apparently it's amazing.) We took turns, sometimes doubled up in the disc sleds or tripled up in a long toboggan-style sled (some other folks put four and then five on there at once - fortunately, they missed the lamp post when they reached the bottom of the hill). My gloves were soaked and my fingers frozen, my nose a total snot rocket, and my wrists were stinging as my sleeves kept sliding up and exposing my skin to the snow caked on my clothing - but it was. completely. amazing. I haven't been sledding in years, and I still maintain that it's one of the most joyful and purely fun activities in the world.
After a while, Sara and I decided to leave - we were quite chilled and both had more homework to finish up. We trudged back and got in around midnight, stripped off our outer layers (bottom layers stayed dry!) and hung the clothes over the stall of the storage closet in the bathroom, then made hot cocoa. We then gathered up our homework and took our mugs of cocoa (and her peanut-butter-and-butter sandwich) over to the next dorm. We holed up with Steph-of-Lady-Bracknell-fame, her Merriman, and Zack, drinking cocoa and half-heartedly discussing our assignment that was due this morning. (And actually doing said assignment, eventually.) All in all, perhaps the best day of this semester so far. (Which isn't saying much, since it's only the third week. My point is that it was a good afternoon. Bah!)
I'm going to try to finish my required reading of Shelley as much as possible before I leave work, so toodles, my dears.