Scaffolding.

Masons, when they start upon a building,
Are careful to test out the scaffolding;

Make sure that planks won’t slip at busy points,
Secure all ladders, tighten bolted joints.

And yet all this comes down when the job’s done
Showing off walls of sure and solid stone.

So if, my dear, there sometimes seem to be
Old bridges breaking between you and me

Never fear. We may let the scaffolds fall
Confident that we have built our wall.

-- Seamus Heaney


Today was a shockingly epic fail. 2000 words of dissertation have amounted to 0. I spent the entire day (after waking up at 12) at the pub discussing virginity (for a friend's sociology dissertation), and have now packed for Bruges. I will now attempt the challenge of writing the entire 5000 words on friday evening. (I am not bothering to pretend to myself that the Milton essay has any chance of appearing). So yes, moan about work over.

I read a little Wendy Cope today. The Bridget Jones of the poetry world. I'm enjoying it muchly - perhaps the biggest variation from Hardy possible. (To An Unborn Pauper Child - "Breathe not, hid heart: cease silently" - hmmm). To summarize - wonderfully witty rhymes and wicked man mocking. Fabulous.

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange
The size of it made us all laugh.
I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave
They got quarters and I had a half.
And that orange, it made me so happy,
As ordinary things often do
Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.
This is peace and contentment. It's new.
The rest of the day was quite easy.
I did all the jobs on my list
And enjoyed them and had some time over.
I love you. I'm glad I exist.

I do admittedly prefer the heart pourings of Duffy mingled with the wit, but it's lighthearted and fun. And oh shit - I should definately leave for Bruges now. Woops. I'm taking Fielding's 'Tom Jones' with me, fingers crossed for another hilarious eighteenth century shocker.

Out.