I haven’t managed to unpack yet and there are far too many chores to accomplish before the next trip, but I never let these things worry me.
Jen K is in town for a visit; we were born and raised in the same place, graduated from the same college, but we know each other from a summer leadership institute for teenagers that was run along the lines of a cult. We both noticed but didn’t much care; we each received the top honors, presented by a Washington State Governor (the one who always wore a rumpled baby blue suit) and broadcast on the local NBC affiliate.
Except she knew ahead of time, and wore a respectable outfit. I was ambushed and thus appeared on the evening news in a psychedelic peacock frock.
Today we had a picnic on Jesus Green with an assortment of friends who also hail (at least recently) from Berkeley. Late in the afternoon the children clamored for a river trip so I motored down to Fen Ditton to drink a pint and admire the scenery.
Yes, I know that this is a cinematic cliche of an English life.
But it is more fun to think about than the other big event of the weekend, when a friend was assaulted by random drunk strangers on a quiet street in broad daylight.