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Yesterday I had a presentation to give, and my first test in Chinese. And I was sick, and had laryngitis (always a good bit for the presentation) and tired. Neither went as well as they could have, but neither went particularly badly, either. And they're over.

I got something approaching nine hours of sleep last night, which is pretty amazing for me. Took and long and indolent bath. Met up with imalion and got caught up, which was lovely (though we should do it more frequently -- of course, twice a year would be more frequently) ran some errands... And now I'm home, and I'm going to do some quiet home things, read fiction, and maybe get a bit ahead in Chinese. I love this feeling -- I've been pushing hard, I'm doing the right things, and now I have earned my rest. It's not often that I'm really in the right headspace to enjoy leisure time. Mmmm.

I seem to still be winning with the bronchial bit, even though it did take out much of my voice yesterday. Still coughing a little (and it sounds awful when I do cough) but my lungs aren't too fruck. Wushu is supposed to start tomorrow, not sure how that's going to work out... I'll probably take things slowly.

It did kind of suck that I had so much important stuff to do yesterday. My presentation was in the form of a lecture outline, slides, and my speaking extemporaneously. Usually this is a really good form for me, but between having a voice that wavered between a hiss and a croak, and just feeling awful, I wasn't at my best. And I didn't even get to enjoy just having it done with, I got my evaluation back later that day -- nothing to complain about, really, he liked my presentation and all, but... not up to my usual standard. I made one really stupid mistake on the Chinese test, too, though it's one they said they'd grade leniently on. (My translations were good, one of my grammatical notes... well, was structurally correct, but I used the wrong name.) Oh well. Nothing I can't live with.

Meanwhile, this is one of the most amazingly beautiful fall days I've seen in a while. On campus the open area near the Burke is covered with crinkly drifts of rust colored oak leaves. From my office, here, the cedar trees have acquired an undercoat of rich orange behind the green. (Contrary to popular belief, cedars do have color change and needle loss in Autumn, it's just a subtler thing...)

(no subject)

Tonight I made minestrone, but I made it with canned beans, and compressed the overall cooking time down to about 45 minutes. (From a more usual half a day to a day of soaking the beans, and 3-4 hours of simmering.) Which I've never done before, I think.

It was... odd. Taken on it's own merits, it was pretty decent (even with canned beans, there is something refreshingly real about minestrone, which is, afterall, mostly a pile of vegetables simmered together, with a bit of pasta). But there is a richness and depth of flavor that comes from the slow cooking. I'm not sure how much is just the difference between canned and dried beans -- the canned beans seemed bland, and didn't thicken the broth in the way I'm used to.

C, by the way, so far looks to be an excellent housemate, though with all three of us caught up and distracted by various projects, it's hard to say if the current situation is representative. (Then again, it's fairly representative for me, really...) We have traded off making soup for eachother, which has been delightful. It's so nice to have someone else around who cooks. And there is a curious sense of companionship I really like, of being vaguely aware of someone else, busily working on their own thing as you are busily working on yours, crossing paths and chatting in little bits, occaisionally throughout the day.

Tomorrow wushu starts, and I'll get to see both how well I've actually gotten over my cold, and what my schedule actually feels like with all the components present. Right now I am feeling curiously content. There is a sense that I can study (oh, the university, I understand at last the reverence some have...) do my martial arts, and cook and make occaisional observances in the direction of the quiet arts of the home (and perhaps a few in the direction of the Arts proper) and that will be enough, my life will be complete and balanced. It's not true, of course, but perhaps it is true enough for today.

(If I have some time this evening, perhaps I will re-read "Gaudy Night". I just read "A Preseumption of Death", a book written by Walsh but based on and including some of Sayer's wartime writings... and enjoyed it quite a bit, to my surprise. She did not convincingly manage to ape Sayers, but her writing about living in wartime England was entirely worth reading.)