Getting into the final weeks of the semester, and deciding once and for all exactly what I’m writing all those final papers on. Oh papers, they do keep me busy. I slept in dreadfully today, when I had been planning to mostly work on homework all day. Well—better late than… So, I will most likely duck out soon for some sushi (a craving) but am planning to spend the evening largely at my desk. Maybe some knitting in between thinking through the work I’m doing. (Yes, it’s only the fourth day of return to knitting and already it’s part of the day I look forward to.)

So—I think I’ll flit between poetry and George Eliot for a while. Though it’s likely that I’ll still write my final paper for National Identity and the Nineteenth Century novel, I’m thinking of switching to George Eliot—an act of love, shall we say. I’m still only 50 or so pages in, but I think I’ll spend a few hours on it tonight. Professor Ragussis is interested in the way the novels we’ve been studying use texts—letters, newspapers etc. I was thinking if I do work on George Eliot I can look both at these texts, but also at the epigraphs she uses for each chapter—her epigraphs have always fascinated me. I will probably talk to him about it next week. So some thinking about it over the next few days.

A handful of poems rejected this morning, though with a note “we hope you’ll submit more.” Oh well. I don’t really understand all the ins and outs of poets and their grouping here. It’s okay. I’m learning. Still, I do finally have something coming out here (I had a contract arrive a few days ago, and have to remember to mail that back over the weekend) and a journal at home has asked me to write something too. So—a few little things to do while the end of semester closes in. At least I’ll be writing about poetry for two of the subjects, which I think will be a grounding force.

I looked up the weather yesterday morning specifically to find out whether I should take an umbrella—seeing that, yes, it would be raining, I of course forgot to put the umbrella in my bag. The result was that arrived home completely soaked. This was okay—I wasn’t particularly cold, and I don’t mind being wet. But arriving in this bedraggled state, it made me feel particularly happy to find a couple of treats in the mail: first, a print of a photograph I ordered a week ago from 20 x 200 which is beautiful—currently sitting on my bookshelf still in its envelope, while I decide whether I’ll get it framed at the moment, or maybe later. Second, and much more of a treat, as it was somewhat unexpected (despite my sending a letter a week ago…) was a letter from Brandon Lussier. As well as taking gorgeous photographs of his gorgeous dog, Brandon writes poetry, and also translates verse from Estonian. Such a joy! So—another little thing for the list, in between writing papers, knitting and eating sushi.

Cupcakes are a great source of joy. I branched out at Baked and Wired today, and instead of my habitual caffé latte (I’m braving a few days without coffee…) I had a cup of “Eden” tea. (Appropriate after all this Milton, I think.) Certainly Edenic. The small joys.

I’m jealous of Ivy Alvarez—she’s off writing in Spain, which she’ll follow up with a little travelling/touring. I have itchy feet, even as the contract for the course I’ll be teaching at Georgetown in the summer shows up in my mail, announcing: “Yes! You will be tied in DC for at least a month and a half of the summer…” The cheap flights to Panama and Costa Rica are looking increasingly attractive… I may have been reading too much Bruce Chatwin. Is there any such thing as too much Bruce Chatwin? I long for big empty spaces.

Instead: my desk.

A gap of over a week in the Independence Day Project. I scarcely know what to do with myself. I should probably get a head start on the next few nations. Senegal today. I remember meeting Senegalese people in Firenze, selling umbrellas on the street. I thought it was somehow lovely that whenever it started to rain, the prices of umbrellas went down instead of up. I also remember how puzzled the umbrella sellers were that I wanted to walk around in the rain—I’d had too long a stretch of summer. The variation was wonderful.