So it’s the fourth Monday in August: First full week of school for Gaze and Taz. First week of classes for The CEO, teaching at Virginia Tech. Classes start for Bookworm at Yale on Wednesday (this is the so-called “shopping period” during which students can check out classes to see if they’re interested; I think they have to finalize their schedules by the end of next week).
Things have been busy.
Bookworm was baptized last Sunday, after the regular church service. There is a state park at a nearby lake, and the ministerial association in the area takes turns serving at the regular Sunday service at 9am for anyone staying at the lake or visiting the park. Our church has been hosting occasionally this summer, and our minister, Dave, baptized her in the lake. Pretty cool.
While we were gone, taking Bookworm and her STUFF to college, I missed Gaze’s first football game performance with the marching band. It was a pre-season, doesn’t-count, benefit game, and they didn’t wear uniforms, but still, I missed it. BUMMER.
Oh, and my eye… did I mention my eye? (If you’re easily grossed-out, skip this part.) Wednesday night, while Bookworm was hanging out at PETBoy’s house with him and his sister Haley (as distinguised from our Hayley-dog) as well as some other friends, I was trying to get the vacuum cleaner out of the middle of the upstairs hall where Gaze had left it. I was also attempting to finish hemming two pairs of jeans – yes, they were Petite size already, but still too long! – for Bookworm, and in a hurry to get back to that, and when I leaned over to push the button for the automatic rewind, the vacuum cleaner cord whipped up and the plug hit me in the eye.
Yes, IN THE EYE. As in, the ER doctor looked at it and said, “Wow, that’s a pretty massive scratch.” Just so you know: when an ER doctor looks at you and says, “wow,” it is not a good thing. I was sternly directed to see my opthalmologist on Thursday, and I had nearly written off the whole take-Bookworm-to-college trip, but she suggested I try for an early appointment – and surprisingly, one was available. I went off with a tube of antibiotic eye ointment, extra sunglasses, and a couple of Percocets just in case. My eye got redder and redder as the weekend wore on, but The CEO stopped by a drugstore on the way out of town, and as I began to use some soothing eyedrops, the redness dissipated. I actually think the antibiotic salve was causing most of the irritation.
So. Bookworm’s dorm room is a teeninesy thing, only big enough to fit a set of bunk beds plus two quite small dressers, with maybe a foot of walking space between bed and dresser. There’s a nook they call a closet, but it’s maybe 24” wide. It’s a good thing she’s short, too, because she’s on the top bunk and can sit up on her bed without bonking her head on the ceiling. The common room holds four desks, and a really beautiful wide bay window with a seat (it’s the best architectural feature of the place, actually). There’s an attractive, no-longer-functional fireplace in the room, but that fourth desk has to sit in front of it, so it’s not really a part of the looks of the place. The other two rooms on that floor house three FroCos (Freshman Counselors), so the bathroom is shared by seven girls rather than the usual ten.
I could probably go on and on about the things that impressed me with Yale – the administration’s interest in encouraging students from rural areas to apply, the intensive focus on advising and teaching, the sense of family with the residential colleges – but I won’t. It is a special place and I think she’s going to do quite well there.
Scent of Moving Day (for me): Chanel No. 19 edt, the lovely and backboned vintage. Scent of Convocation/Farewell Day: Amouage Lyric Woman. Which was a rare mistake. I love Lyric, but something about it seemed wrong that day, which started out gorgeously crisp and autumnal (poor Stephanie, Bookworm’s roommate, is from Singapore, and she told me she was freezing!) and wound up warm. I’m still not quite sure what made it wrong. I found myself wishing for Chamade, of all things. Scent of the Difficult/Disastrous Drive Home: Frederic Malle Iris Poudre. We got a flat tire – and I mean pancake flat! on I-81 about 25 miles north of the WV-Virginia line. Had to drive 40 miles to find a Wal-Mart Tire Center that was open on Sunday and could offer us new tires, and then this morning The CEO noticed that they’d given us the wrong tires anyway. Also on the way home, we hit the area where VDOT is doing heavy construction on the new lane of I81 up Christiansburg Mountain, so there was a detour causing at least an hour’s worth of delay. We wound up turning around and taking an alternate, out-of-the-way detour that added at least half an hour to the already-extended trip. GAH. What should have taken us seven hours (we’d already driven three of the ten hours of the whole trip south on Saturday evening) took us eleven and a half.
But the dog and the boys and my mother-in-law were very glad to see us.
Scents I’ve been wearing over the last couple of weeks: Jacomo Silences original PdT. Silences EdP Sublime. DSH Perfumes La Fete Nouvelle, which I should wear more often for its beautiful drying-hay note. Mary Greenwell Plum. Parfums de Nicolai Le Temps d’une Fete (about which more later, because I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH PDN!!!). Cristina Bertrand #3. L’Arte di Gucci.
I made Bookworm take some of her perfume with her: she’s got Hanae Mori and B&BW Dark Kiss with her, of course, as well as Prada Infusion d’Iris and a bit of Penhaligon’s Violetta. That’s it, though.
I have two or three new virtual friends I met through a writing website, and they’re both interested in perfume now too. I like to credit my proselytizing abilities, but the truth is that I think writers are drawn to the stories they find in perfume, and all I did was enable…
I hope to be back to regular posting, three or four times a week, very soon. Thanks for sticking around this lean summer.