I came back after a long long day - mostly meetings, at which it was interesting to compare the mildly different versions of the all chairs meetings coming out of English and out of Art History: what they had in common was gloom about impending staff cuts coupled with anger at the lack of news, the lack of transparency, the lack of any real knowledge of budgetary figures. Different people seemed to have heard different things about this year's graduate admissions. Yes! there will be graduate admissions! Yes, but these will be radically slashed when it comes to admissions numbers (it might be hard to slash Art History by all that much, given that we had three slots this year, and because of a very last minute defection only two ended up coming). If they carry on slashing, however, we won't have the TA numbers we need. And so on. It's impossible to plan very far ahead at all.
So it was good to come home to a lily in a watering can, doubtless placed there by Sid, our most regular gardener. It looks like one of the ones that usually blooms in the early spring - she must have damaged it somehow, or it became bent in watering: a strange color and texture, like a not particularly healthy tongue.
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