Cambridge

June 26, 2011

All ensconced at Lucy Cavendish without much ado, except that Bethany seems to have lost her passport. I’ve “lost” my passport in my pocket in the past, so we have hope of retrieving it without a trip to the embassy. The kids seem to be happy with their digs. We all ate together at the County Arms last night, which was festive and binding. Scattered afterwards, several of us to the Pickerel, and then to the Eagle and Bath House. Rob and I came home to the experience of fireworks over the Backs. My first hours her were obliterated by fury over the inability to get my computer set up right, the wifi unusable and the ethernet connection requiring ever more precious degrees of adaptation. I was sick with rage at the end of it, and needed the drink. Several drinks. The attempt to keep up with the kids in respect of sheer animal energy will be the death of me.

Bethany finds her passport in her suitcase.

First classes taught, perspiring like a fountain in the box-of-sun class room.

Almost pathologically tired. Perhaps the entire London week unwinds inside me now.

The heroic friendship between John and Justin is group property, observed and cherished by all. People are capable of such gentleness toward each other, in this a gentleness without condescension, mutual and Olympian. Cambridge is exactly the place for such a relationship to play.

I am relieved to report that envy is pushed way to the rear of the emotions.