I've been working hard all week finishing up the two big essays and will hand them in tomorrow. What a huge relief. Yesterday was the first class for the autobiography module and today was the beginning of the publishing course, so I'm back in the saddle for the final lap. It was a bright, sunshiny day and I realized how different it's going to be in another month or so when the days get longer and it'll still daylight when I take the bus home. I could almost feel it in the air. There are even pink and white primulas planted in boxes around the campus. My friend Juliet reminded me though that it's only January and we could still be in for some nasty weather. I just don't want to believe it.
Walking to the bus for the first time since before Christmas, I saw the driver talking on his mobile phone about half a block away while three or four women stood by the door of the bus, which was closed. They told me that there was a suspicious bag left on board and that the driver was calling to have the bomb squad check it out. I'd just been reading in the paper on the weekend about the bombing of the No. 30 bus in London in 2005, so stepped back gingerly while the women gaped at the menacing valise through the window. Luckily, another bus came along in minutes and we left the driver to deal with the experts. I didn't hear anything on the news, so assume all was well.
|Yes, that's a Henry Moore on the bottom right corner.|