the end

Tomorrow, I leave for an undisclosed European destination where I will don Academic Regalia and parade to solemn music, line up in a gorgeous old-building-setting, and eventually walk forward when my name is called. I will return to my seat bearing a document of some sort, which I hope is beribboned, with stamped insignias and flowing calligraphy, on parchment.

Instead, it will probably be a cardboard tube, with a laserjet-printed A4 sheet telling me that my certificate, "suitable for framing", will arrive by mail in 30 to 60 days. This is Ireland, after all. They are not known for speedy anything, let alone mail delivery.

I had not been looking forward to this journey until I received the following email from a fellow postgrad, who was a year ahead of me:

Did you book your gown? A. calls it the "McDonalds" gown. Very apt really. Do take lots of photos and send us one. We should start a gallery, last year I know for the first time a photo of the Seniors was taken for wall hanging, just like the Medics do traditionally. So hope to catch up, and so happy for you. Well and done and enjoy the pomp and ceremony (there is lots of that, but you might be familiar having worked in Law?), it's well earned and it is quite a spectacle.

So who knows? Perhaps you'll get to see a picture of the little-p 'prophet' in the McDonald's gown. . . . What do you think?

Anyway - I am suddenly excited to be going, and that's a gift.

Yesterday, the bluebird of happiness came calling. I was sans camera, and didn't want to miss bluebird time to go get it so there is no photo this time. He sat on the back of a chair out on the portico. Then he fluttered up against the window. Then he flew to a hole high in a snag tree I'd never noticed out back in the woods. Then he flew back and fluttered at the window closest to me. Back, then, to his home.

I know now where the bluebird lives.

time for a picture. . . .

The house is really coming together. Here, a view through the woods.

bluebird of happiness

It must be the cartoons that have spawned that particular image. . . . Snow White, probably. Wasn't there a bluebird of happiness in that one, carrying the train of Snow White's gown?

Whatever.

I like bluebirds. Of course, I'd never seen an actual bluebird until a week ago, when I saw two of them, flying across a field just down the road from the greenwood. I have aspirations of luring them to the meadow in front of our [almost-under-roof] house. I understand they like peanut butter. And they prefer man-made housing, on stakes. Not too high up. I have just the thing.

But there's a problem. Someone told me not too long ago that bluebirds are territorial, and drive off all the other birds.

Is it true, do you think? Our bird-watching books have not mentioned it. It does say that they're 'gregarious' and can live in large family groups, especially over winter. That's not so bad! But it doesn't say anything about "plays well with other species". . . .

Hmmm. More research is needed, clearly. Luckily, I have time before I have to make a decision whether or not to court them. Moreover, just putting out the preferred feed and housing is far from a guarantee that my desired bluebird of happiness will materialize.

Meanwhile, I feel oppressed at the prospect of full-time "work" outside of my house (1), the moths that have [apparently] invaded my closet judging by the pinholes I keep finding in favorite sweaters and blazers (2), and legal cases involving money disputes (3).

I don't like money disputes.

I don't like disputes - not really. And yet I pick fights. Or maybe it's that I point out conflict. I dunno. . . .

Two of my go-to writer friends have been scribbling along these lines as well. Lee Anne at Adorable Device of Destruction - in her posting about a flattened culture of happiness - and Non-Essential Equipment, who apparently got some people worked up by posting about faith issues and the question of 'non-believability'.

More thought. Clearly needed.

Note to self: Without conflict, there is no story. "Happily ever after" marks The End.

day one. . . .

a new year. Amazing!

Resolutions? I've never been big on them, myself. But it occurs to me that if you fail to aim at anything, you'll hit it every time. . . . Hit nothing, that is.

Better to aim for something.

My "resolution" is to start walking every day. We're hoping to get a dog when the house is built, and I'd thought to use that as an excuse motivation to walk every day. But I think now that that won't do at all. If I won't walk for myself, I won't walk because of the dog. I'll just kick him out the back door when he has to go, and/or stand around, tapping my foot, until he's done his "business". Not a good way to bond either with the dog or to incorporate daily exercise and fresh air into my system!

So: walkabout is on, PRE-canine, in the hopes that it will endure, post-canine-arrival.

Here's where we walked today, out at the greenwood. I never tire of it.

mostly pictures

Heading to the greenwood, this is one of my favorite vistas just before we get there.
And this was the picture out the passenger side of the jeep as we crossed the South River.See?

now what?!

I am not good with numbers and I resent having to move into number mode.

If you force me to think like that, I will make you pay for it. So think twice!

Our architect and our engineers are forcing me to start calculating. . . . The problem? Architect's dimension numbers don't "close" for purposes of staking the house out.

Back to architect. Much dithering, whining and complaining, and a new drawing was presented with new numbers.

Engineer: "Those don't work, either."

Me: "What am I supposed to do?"

Engineer: "I'll review them closely, try and meet with architect to resolve, otherwise, I will make whatever modifications are necessary, working with your builder."

OK then. New plans are produced with new numbers. As might be expected, I ignore the numbers. The king, however, does not.

"The engineer has added a foot at the rear of the house, but only some 6 inches at the front."

[do NOT rely on my numbers. . . . these are all approximations - just as the above is not a picture of the actual house - trapezoidal or not - but the picture of the approximate tower I'd like to go hole up in. And - now that I think of it - to the left is the picture of the actual tower that started the whole process of building our own house. Just because I have it, and just to be accurate, and also because there are no numbers involved in showing it to you.]

Me: "Yeah?"

The king: "Are we getting a trapezoidal house? Or is this the fix necessary so that it is NOT trapezoidal?"

Me: "Ah. . . . hmmm. I don't know?"

In the meantime, it's raining cats and dogs (can you say "mud"?) and a cold front is coming in (can you say "Not a good time to either dig or pour foundations"?).

So we're back to waiting.

I really don't understand this. It just seems that whatever could go wrong, has gone wrong. And yet we don't think that we're doing the wrong thing by persevering in trying to build this house.

But I don't get it.

Somehow, more words don't seem to help.

There's a lesson for me here, somewhere. But I just want to pick up the phone and throw some more words at it. Or send them via email or messenger. Must. Do. Something. (where "Wait" doesn't seem to count as anything. . . .)

the woods

Ground-clearing started yesterday in the woods, the place where the king and I will hopefully live the rest of our lives, "happily ever after. . . ."

Here's a picture of the cleared driveway, which isn't quite as bad as I'd feared.

another day. . . .

Wow. Coming back to life again. Slowly.

I took the weekend 'off'.

Emancipated Son #2 was in from London (arriving the day before D-Day but not dreadfully underfoot until D-day, but after I'd finished printing, which was a good thing). So that meant that Emancipated Son #1 and wife were here Saturday and Sunday - and they're all heading out with the king and my dad for a round of golf this morning.

Meanwhile, construction in the woods kicks off today: the bulldozers arrive. I had to go to the woods on Sunday to discuss if there were any trees in the LOD ("limits of disturbance") that could be spared. . . . I felt like an executioner. I did manage to save like 4, but my favorite beech grove took a big hit. It will be painful to see.

Funny how that works though. That you have to raze what was there, before you can build anew. Not that I'd want to talk too much about Foucault and 'deconstruction' - because that guy just drives me crazy - but even Hannah Arendt notes that human creativity is done in violence. Namely, the violent 'fashioning' of something into something else. Consider the 'making' of a table, for example. It includes within it the chopping down of trees and planing of wood and cutting to size, etc., etc. (redundant 'etc.', I know. But it doesn't sound as good, otherwise).

So, too, to build a house, you have first to score the earth to make a solid - uncluttered - foundation.

I don't have to like it, though. Even though I know it is necessary and will work out for 'good' in the end. . . .

Still trying to figure out what life looks like now, post-dissertation. I'm not completely out of the woods, insofar as I have to get ready for the viva voce. . . . and have to stay sharp. Actually, there's some more reading I need to do on Ricoeur. Magda, bless her heart, told me to take a few days off and enjoy, but then to stay sharp and keep reading. The really cool thing was that she also said that she could really see how the paper came together, at the end. It feels good to think that I may have won her over . . . and if I've won her over, maybe that means all will be well also with the examiners! I hope.

Anyway, I'm not borrowing trouble here. I'll keep reading, and re-read the dissertation several times before the viva, and then go in and pretend it's like an appellate hearing. This, I know how to do.

I also get to read some non-philosophy - what a treat! My friend Nonessential Equipment posted a list of her favorite 10 books here, which got some of her buddies to post 10 of theirs, and there's so many books I've never read that sound so wonderful! Today, I think I'm going to sit down and figure out my favorite 10, but also start a book pile for regular reading again.

What a concept.

In the meantime, there's laundry, ironing (so that's where my 3 favorite shirts are!!!) and thinking about starting to pack for Florida. Wedding. sigh. and I have to hem a gown.

And before I do anything - send email to my Dublin runner to sort out final details of binding & turn-in instructions. It may be off my plate, but it's actually not across the goal yet! That happens tomorrow. Lord willing. . . .