Changing Countries
In Hilary Term 1987, I left Oxford and returned to Madison, Wisconsin, but now I am going the other direction. I leave for England at the end of the month. All of my letters and journals are packed and ready for the transatlantic crossing (along with my only pair of gloves—ruched, black evening gloves—which I left accidentally in a coat pocket). So, for now, the newsletter will be totally random, as I am off on an adventure. I will return to Oxford as soon as possible (actually I will be there by February 2).
“She gave a last look in the mirror and thought of the girl in the red dress. Expand yourself, the girl had said. She gave her reflection a small grin, lifted her head, took a deep breath and walked out. Paul was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps leading up to the ballroom. She was struck anew by the crazily unblended sophistication and naivete of his features: the black cowlick spurting in small-boy abandon over his forehead; the quick, intelligent, all-too-knowing look of the narrow, slanting eyes; the placid, Cheshire-cat wideness of his mouth. A far cry, certainly, from the beautifully regular, thoroughly jelled good looks of Philip. And that was all right too. She was a far cry from the dazzled little innocent. . . . It was all here.
The man, the girl, and a moon . . . with the shadow of the past across it” (Ladies Home Journal, 1948).
A loss for Madison - but a grand new adventure!