All Downhill From Here

George Orwell has some kind of preoccupation with suet pudding. He references it in all his essays. Strange...perhaps I will write my essay on the symbolic significance of suet pudding in British politics.

The Integrative Seminar Paper (shall we call it Masterpiece? I thought so) has been turned in, and it was a whole two hours before the deadline. One measly little Case Study left, a test of some sort, and then--ah, bliss!--four months of not writing papers! Well, actually, it seems to me that the prospect of not having the next paper to write immediately upon finishing this one is a good thing, but I'm not sure I remember what it feels like.

The weather has been getting nicer, which, added to the pending paperlessness, has made everyone considerably more buoyant. Today, though, it was finicky: this morning sunshine, then in the space of time it took to check out some books in the English Faculty Library, clouds came over and it started raining. Sara and I were on the way home, through University Parks, and got rather wet. ("Rather" may be an understatement.) As soon as we got home, the rain promptly stopped and the sun was out again. Reminds me of South Dakota!

Belfast tomorrow, after a highly anticipated [read: obligatory like the rest] field trip to a museum in London.