i still dream of running careless through the snow
So we survived the move, and we're in the new place, and how amazing it is to have my own bedroom in a basement suite that was always meant to be a basement suite. Oak Street is busy and I still can't fall asleep without earplugs, but I'm okay with that. I'm getting used to the distance, and while some of our friends whine and moan about how far away we are now, others are quite keen for us to have a housewarming party and start putting on Saturday breakfasts again.
I was sitting and working on Spanish homework in the atrium at school this afternoon when a professor I was on a committee with last year sat nearby. He said, "So, Beth, I see you've passed off the poisoned chalice of the Academic Policy Committee to an unsuspecting soul?" I have to admit that's one committee meeting I don't entirely miss. Still, I do kind of miss the things I got to do last year in general.
Anyway, for a quick poem, I recited/performed this at the Regent retreat this past weekend.
Oh, oh, you will be sorry...
Edna St Vincent Millay
Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.
I was sitting and working on Spanish homework in the atrium at school this afternoon when a professor I was on a committee with last year sat nearby. He said, "So, Beth, I see you've passed off the poisoned chalice of the Academic Policy Committee to an unsuspecting soul?" I have to admit that's one committee meeting I don't entirely miss. Still, I do kind of miss the things I got to do last year in general.
Anyway, for a quick poem, I recited/performed this at the Regent retreat this past weekend.
Oh, oh, you will be sorry...
Edna St Vincent Millay
Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word!
Give me back my book and take my kiss instead.
Was it my enemy or my friend I heard,
"What a big book for such a little head!"
Come, I will show you now my newest hat,
And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink!
Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that.
I never again shall tell you what I think.
I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly;
You will not catch me reading any more:
I shall be called a wife to pattern by;
And some day when you knock and push the door,
Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy,
I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.