I'm back from England. Despite my diffidence, it was a really wonderful trip--as everyone except me told me it would be.
I went to a conference, which was surprisingly interesting. Along with everything else, it was lovely to be treated as neither a domestic nor an administrative drudge (these days, I think of my paper-giving persona as my professional avatar, and I'm always shocked by how differently people treat her than "me").
Then I spent an amazingly sunny weekend in London seeing old friends and doing a little bit of sight-seeing. It was an English "heat-wave" at ~82F, and everyone was pretty much stripped down to their underwear. Since it was 101F when I left NC, it was a cool and lovely respite for me. I didn't go west of the Tate Modern or north of Clerkenwell--mostly, I just walked up, down, and across the truly magical Thames.
Jane Austen's writing desk, Austen House, Chawton.
Ivory letters (like in Emma)
Austen's hair, and some topaz crosses:
Austen's house.
Graffiti in the Tower of London.
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