The web is still there, but the emphasis is now on clearing 35 years of accumulation so as to make the transition more clearly. I'm finding patience really hard: waiting for calls, scaffolders, auctioneers, evaluations, reactions from e-mails, and decisions, decisions, decisions. Poor brains, trying to hold and juggle so much uncertainty and so many tasks, which all have to fit together like jigsaw puzzles in time.
And worry for V. in Lahore, where bloody jihadists seem to kill with impunity.
Donne on the box last night: why ruin "Batter My Heart, Three-Personed God" with panting on the beach? The rest was a treat and a revelation. Did his love survive 12 children and poverty? My favorite was not aired:
Where, like a pillow on a bed,
A Pregnant banke swel'd up, to rest
The violets reclining head,
Sat we two, one anothers best.

Our hands were firmely cimented
With a fast balme, which thence did spring,
Our eye-beames twisted, and did thred
Our eyes, upon one double string.....

And so on for many magical verses.