Pick up your money and pack your tent, you still ain�t goin� nowhere.

I had entirely too much fun today, too much inappropriate fun for a woman my age and station in life. I took Little Princess to student health services again to have the dressing changed on her knee. The nurse and doctor agreed that the scab that has formed over the wound must be removed in order for the abrasion to heal properly. They seem to think that it must be peeled off so that the flesh can grow inward from the ragged edges. I did Latin homework while I waited, expecting to hear cries of pain and anguish coming from the examining room. When she came out, she told me that the scab had not softened enough from the antibiotic goo they had dressed it with yesterday, and it would take another day or so for them to be satisfied that it could be removed without doing more damage. So they bandaged her up again and sent her on her way until tomorrow.

There were still 20 minutes before I had to go to Latin class, so I took her with me into the classics department, which is conveniently in the same building as the clinic, and made tea for her, Patsy and myself using the kitchen facilities provided. We sat and sipped until I had to go to class.

We started translating Book I, Section 7 of Livy, the story of Hercules and Cacus, very similar to the Ovid we already translated, but with a less �dramatic� and more factual bent. For instance, in the Ovid, Cacus was a fire-belching monster. In the Livy, he is just a fierce shepherd. I am always a little sad when class is over, it is so enjoyable.

From there I bought an anthurium in the lobby of the student building where the biology students were having their annual sale. It has red sepals and is very, very cute. My late grandmother-in-law used to call them �little boy plants� for most obvious reasons.

Opposite to the plant sale table, the Mexican lady had displayed jewellery all handmade by herself with crystals and beads, necklaces and earrings, and I was extremely distracted by all the shiny baubles. I wasn�t the only one. Her table was mobbed by young women ogling her wares. I already own a necklace by her though and really don�t have occasion to wear more jewellery, so I forbore reaching into my wallet to relieve myself of my hard-earned cash.

I met Little Princess� BF and the drummer in their band in the Loft, and we were soon joined by the keyboardist and another music student. I must confess that I was in seventh heaven, surrounded by handsome young men who laughed at my jokes and treated me like �one of the guys�, a position I haven�t held since I was in highschool (I had a boyfriend who did not go to my high school, and thence was safe from advances, but still found myself the �mascot� [so to speak] of a group of guys in my grade with whom I went everywhere and did everything). I�m not trying to kid myself. I�m still the department chair�s wife, the singing teacher of one of them and the mother of another�s girlfriend, but it was nice to be treated like a real person, and not like just any of those three roles with which I often find myself identified.

I finally tore myself away so I could meet Hubby in his office and type the programme notes for our blues concert. When I got home, Buddy Boy was just getting off the school bus, so we drove into L�ville (the long way) so he could get a haircut from Mr. Beattie. That was fun too. We heard all about his fishing trip on Lake Ontario and discussed the folly of too much drink. There are pleasures in living in a small town. I know that when Hubby retires he will want to pull up stakes. I don�t even want to think about it.

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