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):
Sunday: Brunch at Mildred Pierce with pittenweem; The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (Lucy was perfect! Jadis' costumes were admirable as long as she stood completely still.) with pittenweem and silly_dan; dinner and socialization with the_engineer at Urban Thai, with sampler episodes of Gatchaman afterwards.
Monday: Rice pudding with B.A. at Mount Everest; Settlers of Catan with aerinah; dinner at Phil's BBQ; guitar lessons and playing with a handmade dulcimer at J.L.'s.
Today: Naps, reading, and preparation for tomorrow. C. is out photographing the Beaches.