It’s a bit colder now, but last week’s thaw produced amazing icicles from the rafters of my office.
I work in an old house on campus … and this is the view from its backyard. The president of the college used to live here; sometimes, when I admire the elegantly curved ceilings, or visit with a co-worker in front of the living room fireplace, I wonder about the house’s past. Did the president and his wife hold intimate receptions or gala parties? Did he toss and turn the night before he faced difficult decisions? Did she smile coolly, despising the role of the “president’s wife” and her life in this home that was never really hers? Did their children run up and down these squeaky stairs, pausing at the landing and peering out the crack to the outside world, which has never quite been repaired, even with half a dozen renovations?
It’s charming working in an old house. My office is hotter than blazes in the morning; as cold as cold can be in the afternoons. If you run out of toilet paper in the bathroom, you can’t just pick another stall; house rules: change the roll yourself. The fridge in the kitchen is overflowing; if we tried hard enough, we’d probably have a five course meal with the provisions my co-workers bring in. And just this afternoon? Folks around here sometimes forget we’re still an office; the pastor’s secretary rang the doorbell today. I half-expected her to arrive with a fresh batch of cookies, as if welcoming new neighbors.
On the other night’s evening news, Tom Brokaw called the Internet the “Internot.” Maybe he’s got something there.I know you’ve seen her. That mildly annoying NBCi.com girl. Well, she has a name. Ingrid Torrance. And she has a fan club.
He accepted the offer. How’d I know? I cracked the code, baby!
The new Valentine’s theme on top (re-fresh a few times; you’ll see it!) is inspired by those oh-so-wonderful conversation hearts.
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