Hello! This week has flew by faster than light years. I gave a paper that went well, I think. In Newcastle, I spoke in the Literature and Philosophic Society which was lovely. In that very room, I spoke where the likes of G. K. Chesterton, Ezra Pound, and Dorothy L. Sayers had presented before. But never fear, with my ego running away in the light such great predecessors, for a grand total of nine people were present in the room, only three of which were completely unaffiliated with us before hand. But one of those people was Fran. He had moved up to Durham that very morning, unloaded his things in his new flat (which is a dream: it's the top floor of a retired professor's mansion), parked his car, and then hopped on the train with me to go to Newcastle. We were completely delirious post-paper and headed to Chinatown (there is a Chinatown! God does exist!) and gorged ourselves on noodles and tea.
Today. Today we head up to Edinburgh. From there I'll leave for a full whole week in Iona, while Fran, meanwhile, will hopefully be cycling down from Edinburgh to Durham. So exciting! He'll train back up to meet me and then we'll be touting our things from storage in Edinburgh to Durham. Possessions are such a burden. No wonder Jesus was like, sell all of your stuff. So there: that's a goal for the future life-- not to be weighed down by possessions, not to let them rule me. In this professor's house, the books completely run the place. It's like they've come alive and bred, and their offspring now reside in every nook and cranny. The ball room is a library, the library is an archive, the master bedroom bed is pulled into the center of the room so books can line all four walls. I swear if the AGA wouldn't burn a book, there'd be some tucked in there too. As much as I like books, this frightens me a little. In fact, it would make for a delightful short horror story.
Happy Friday!!
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