The weekend brought a conference in Loughborough which isn't the end of the world, but nearly. And The Cedars Hotel wasn't the worst I have stayed in, but nearly. Thank goodness for good company and drouthy neighbours who made it all bearable. The conference paper went down very well indeed and we were very pleased with it but the conference itself was a bit of a mixed bag, Brassani and Phillips a wee bit of a let down (though not completely). Laugh of the conference came unintentionally from JW my co-presenter. As we walked to one of the many sessions we were asked, "are you coming to Repressed Desires?" To which she replied, "No we have come the wrong way..." well perhaps you had to be there but the panel found it hilarious. But a lot of the time was spent thinking that loads of people have no idea what they are talking about. The panelists were generally younger than me (in real years though not in academic) but there was a lot of naivety and we actually felt quite grown up. Perhaps we have finally grown into our professorial clothes - indeed after the Icarus paper I was complimented on my lavender jumper by Asa from Sweden (who was one of the good eggs) - although I confess during one paper I kept reflecting on Nick Cave singing God Is In the House (which, we agreed, seemed well appropriate - which is why I have re-posted it here - "we have bred all our kittens white, so you can see them in the night...) But now its back to work - modules to design and organise for teaching; research to be done; books to be read; writing to get started and an office to be moved - humph. Think I might take today easy and read a Phd or an MA. But last night I found myself sitting quietly reading and "happenstance" its been a long time since I read this by Wallace Stevens, Disillusionment of Ten O'Clock :The houses are haunted
By white night-gowns.
None are green,
Or purple with green rings,
Or green with yellow rings,
Or yellow with blue rings.
None of them are strange,
With socks of lace
And beaded ceintures.
People are not going
To dream of baboons and periwinkles.
Only, here and there, an old sailor,
Drunk and asleep in his boots,
Catches Tigers In red weather.
