Flowers in the Attic

Tomorrow morning at 5am, My Beloved and I have a hot date in the attic.  Literally.  We're doing the last push to get the new insulation down.  It's gotta be over 95* up there now and at least 92* outside.  Two words: butt sweat.  No matter how much you're in love, that's just plain not attractive.  I'll do it, though, and gladly, if it means we can finally (!) turn the air on.  My fingers and toes have been the size of little sausages since Memorial Day.

In other news, my work on my independent study is going swimmingly with only two meetings under my belt.  See, it's all about finding something that is interesting to me.  I can't imagine the "rhetoric of defeat in science" holding my attention for long, but for the next 11+ weeks (or until we've exhausted all publication options or have had it accepted for publishing) it will be enough.  Of course, this has spurned yet another round of fantasizing what my life would be like as an academician and wistful longings for the days of gentlemen (or gentlewoman) scholars.

GPO my garden returns