Jul. 26th, 2006

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From London, where she attended the (civil) wedding of her friend from high school (daycare, actually), daughter of my boss at the Bank. And she brought me back a little stuffed Orangutan, which she calls Orangie, and I, Basil, and some Glenfiddich in a pretty green tin. (How did she know I finished the Clontarf the night before last or the night before that?)

The first she has been out of the country since the junior high school chorus did Niagra Falls.

One gets older.

I read Wendell Berry. And Couliano on Eros and Magic in the Renaissance. And repeat the Troparion of the Cross for the good people of the Lebanon, and the Assyrians of Iraq. I prepare for the weekend retreat, where the topic will be prophecy, but no word against Mr. Bush or his associates in Jerusalem will be welcome. Perhaps a word or two for Mr. Berry will suffice.

I enjoy the air conditioning, and wonder how I did without last year, especially when I was not so mobile.

My editor will have the assignments for next year's issue of the college guide soon. This year's must be out. Kevork, the PR guy from Emory and Henry, called when he got the .pdf to say he hoped it wasn't final yet. Sheesh. We included them as one of the fifty best (underrated) colleges in the country, and they aren't satisfied. I wonder if the publisher kept my chapter title: mayberry.edu.

Cheers.

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