Well, Inkshed was grand, as usual. It's hard to miss when you assemble 40 people intent on having a good time . . . although I would have preferred a more retreat-like setting, I still had a lot of opportunities for talking with people I don't usually get to see. I spent a lot of time talking to Tosh, who's been coming to the conference for several years; he attended his first Inkshed as he was beginning his Masters' program, and now he's only got a year left until he gets his PhD. I feel like I've watched him grow up, or something. He's an interesting guy; he decided at the age of fifteen that he wanted to leave Japan and live in Canada (where he could find people with whom to discuss Nietzsche) and he set about to do that . . . Not to mention, he juggles.

And I sat with Tania at several meals; we roomed together at her first Inkshed and hit it off immediately. She, too, is interesting. For instance, she plays the accordion and sings Finnish folk songs . . .

And I got to see Margaret and Leslie and M-L, who are all about 5-10 years older than me, who are all from Toronto and whom I think of as my academic aunties. Well, actually, I think of them as my academic witch aunties . . . meaning "witch" with all the warm, fuzzy associations the word carried among feminists in the 70s . . . Leslie is outspoken and direct, Margaret is a person of immense character, and M-L is smart and witty. And they have a whole bunch of wonderful friends, many of whom have come to Inkshed before, and most of whom came this weekend since the conference was close to home.

And of course I got to see Russ (although I was disappointed that Anne didn't come - I had a bunch of stories saved up to tell her). It was great to hang out with him for a few days. He and I and another conference-goer went out for dinner on Friday night, which was fun. And we sat at the same table for a number of meals, too. I wish there had been more time to hang out (the conference schedule was packed), but then, that's what I always wish.

And traveling to and fro was ridiculously easy; it took me less than three hours to get to London from here, and involved maybe three turns. Crossing the Blue Water bridge was oh-so-much better than crossing the Ambassador . . . I actually got to look at blue water, and it was lovely.

And it was lovely to get home, where I discovered that Emil had brought the two peony bushes up from Ann Arbor and transplanted them, and bought a lilac bush that's waiting to go in the ground . . . We have an outline of our new pond, too. (It's going to be "spring-fed" from the sump pump in the basement. For some reason, I think this is really cool and I can't wait to see how it looks. The little pool the basement guys made to collect the sump-pump water is always crystal clear so I'm hopeful the whole pond will be similarly healthy.)

This evening we had a cookout with Emma and her current boyfriend, which was very pleasant indeed. The temperature was about perfect and the skies were blue . . . Although I still have grading to do, the pace is slowing even further this week. And now that Inkshed has come and gone, it really and truly feels like I'm on the brink of summer . . .