We did get to London yesterday for a lackluster Othello, despite the continued sogginess of the weather. It’s a nasty, damp, blustery day, one that makes you wish for wool socks (check) and a mug of hot chocolate (still working on that). I’m not sure what this rain is doing to nearby water levels, but things remain copasetic here at BLOX in that neither I nor my belongings have floated away (nor have any small children, senior citizens, math campers, or tourists from Mother Russia, at least not to my knowledge).
I’m limited on good stories from the past few days—paper writing, reading 2 Henry IV, finishing a paper on 1 Henry IV, particularly overstuffed (Falstaffian?) High Table dinner (salad avec deep-fried croutons, cream of celery soup, roast duck, rice pilaf with wee little chunks of liver, buttery snap peas and carrots, dark chocolate ganache tart; italics added), post-dinner paper-editing enlivened by wine, four hours of class on Tuesday morning, the coach to London where sunshine greeted us, rotating sushi bar (plus one point for entertainment value, minus one point for hunger pangs), back to four hours of class today. Tonight? More Shakespeare after dinner in the form of a private screening of Orson Welles’ Othello.
Let's just say the pictures below are worth more than the 226 words above.
St. Paul's as reflected in a shop window.
St. Paul's en vivo. Hey, thanks London!
Kris and Chrissy on the Millenium Bridge. It's a little dark, but you can squint. I would've retaken it if not for Kris' paralyzing fear of heights/rickety bridges, and the masses of rush-hour commuters making their way around us.
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