December 13th, 2005

Portrait as a Renaissance artist-enginee

Sun on snow

Boy - "All my pleasure is in catchynge of byrdes
And makynge of snow ballys and throwyng the same."

Launderess - "I herde by her tale she wolde banyshe the sonne
and then were we pore launders all undonne;
Excepte the sonne shyne that our clothes may dry
We can do ryght nought in our laundry."

From John Heywood, The Play of the Weather

Since the launderess didn't specify she wanted warmth to go with her sun, she and the boy should both be happy with today's brilliant cold.




Free internet access has been exceedingly unreliable at the hotel; the university is more reliable. Here are the last few days in brief summary. (Somehow, it only seems necessary to keep diarylike records of my life when I'm travelling):

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