Discipulus

Samhain                              Waning Thanksgiving Moon

An eternal schoolboy.  I sit with my legs crossed, feet tapping while I work on my Latin, that inferior position of student working its way into my 63rd year, an anxiety that I have charlie-3rd-gradetrained myself to use to my advantage, to push myself beyond my comfort zone.  So, in spite of stopping earlier, I came back down and finished translating the section from Virgil on Laocoon Speaking Out Against the Trojan Horse.  Guess what Laocoon says in this passage.  Beware of Greeks bearing gifts!

I like the feeling of wind and snow outside while I work here at my desk, Wheelock up on my reading desk, yellow pad to the right and my grammar and word aids to the left.

Kate’s home from work now.  Gonna go upstairs.

Thanksgiving Eve

Samhain                                                      Waning Thanksgiving Moon

Grocery shopping this morning, the day before Thanksgiving.  Like traveling by air on a holiday.  Like going to see the Tower of London in July.  Like shopping on Black Friday.  I went early though and it wasn’t too bad.  There was the man with one turkey in his cart, a shocked disorientation on his face, his white hair wild.  A woman with black flats, a wool skirt below the ankle and a helmet like cloth hat strapped under her chin.  A woman and her mother, mom in a white faux fur coat, shiny cloth pants and dangly ear-rings with zircon or diamond but I’d bet zircon.  The clerk from Nevis.  I had a farm near Nevis.  Oh, where?  On Spider Lake.  Oh, a friend of mine has a resort on Spider Lake.  Did you find everything you were looking for?

The message board had advertisements for guys offering snow plowing services.  I memorized a number, 227-9899, and called for a free estimate when I got home.

Sleepy now, Latin this afternoon and evening, Thanksgiving tomorrow.  A restaurant meal for us this year, Axel’s Wood Roast in St. Paul.  Annie’s coming up.