Windchimes

plenty of time and not enough

I needn't have worried about getting back in time for the English department lunch. I think the surgeon spent all of about five minutes with me. Charming man though. He had a younger doctor? with him, or maybe a surgical intern, or whatever you call it when someone's been to medical school and is now following a practicing physician around and taking notes.

I left the house a little before seven in the a. of m., parked near the building at about twenty after eight and signed in at the sliding glass window at 8:45. Not that it's that long of a walk, more like that long of a drive necessitates finding a restroom. Must admit, I did walk into the wrong building at first. Anyway, I think they put me in the paper-covered recliner a little before time.

Love the way this guy talks, my surgeon. (OK, he's not just mine, that sounds like an endearment I just realized.) When he came round to discharge me from the hospital after surgery, he advised me not to try eating anything that might "get stuck in your guzzle." This morning he tapped a certain spot close to my left temple to show the younger guy how it made the corner of my lip twitch, informing him this demonstrates slightly low calcium levels. Said it's called a "schwa-stëk". I really have no idea how to spell it, but that's what it sounded like. Discovered by some doctor in Vienna, he went on in a fake German accent, before telling me to continue taking the supplements he prescribed.

The long and short of it - I wasn't parked for even a full hour and got back to Carrollton a full hour before time for that lunch. Had time to chill at home for a few minutes.

The university's English department sponsors one of these "Toto Pulls the Curtain" luncheons just before the start of every semester. A professor chosen by some English students speaks about their scholarly research after we've eaten. I've been to two so far and hate that I ever missed any of them. Full of interesting people, our English department.

Professor U., who comes from New York, talked about the book she'd co-written with a college friend from California. They went to college in Indiana. Two women from opposite coasts smack in the mid-west. She read some excerpts. I've got to get my hands on a copy of that book, although I don't know when I'm going to read it once classes start. But I have to grab a few minutes of just-for-fun reading every once in a while anyway.

Then I sat next to a professor who'd been in London over the summer, doing research. She told me all about her adventures getting to a certain library the day after the bombings. And a classmate from World Lit and Creative Writing sat across the table. I wish I'd had more of a chance to talk with her.

I also wish I'd thought about wearing the red-sequined slippers I bought at a street marché in Lannion. Dr. F. wore his bright red dress shoes and accused me of chickening out when I told him I had those things. Dr. F. and Dr. D. are our two resident published poets, both terrific teachers too. I always end up wishing conversations and classes with them lasted longer.

This entry is getting kind of longish compared to my usual journal entries, but it's been a terrific day all 'round and I want to make sure I keep some of it, somehow.

J.H. Larrew
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