In my in-box: notes from various graduate schools who have not (yet) taken me off their mailing lists, invitations for orientations to FSU, Alaska parking permits, housing in Boston--all these opportunities, these lives I could have had. My own, here, mundane, beautiful. Content and restless all at once. Is this normal? It's the anticipation that makes me jumpy, I think.
In reading, I've learned: Lobsters molt and both houseflies and lobsters taste with their feet. Also, 70-100 million years ago was a time referred to by botanists as "the great radiation," when flowering plants exploded, mainly due to the petal, which lures insect pollinators.
Some day, a show-down: books I wish to pass on (those 'little hairs', according to my husband) versus the library books (due that day, especially). A little wrestling. They're always wrestling. Which to read next...
Tomorrow Ryan and I celebrate nine years of being together. Nine years is so much and not enough; it's hard to imagine myself nine years from now, how much our lives will change.