I'd say that today was my first official day of "work" since I made forward progress in shaping my research. I designed two questionnaires, started on a third, did a thorough literature search, and toured the parasitology lab. I also initiated plans to visit some farms about 30km away from the school and made progress on my office but forgot the William Wegman calendar (meaning that my design is incomplete).Funny thing happened on my way to my mailbox. The "drops," as they are here, called are in a separate room with a fairly large sign on the outside explicitly warning students not to enter. While I was in there, a woman came in and gave me a funny looking, one that questioned my right to be in the room. I explained to her that I was "Dr. Miguella Mark-Carew," pointing the title on my mailbox, and she lightened up quite a bit. She even introduced me to someone at the vet school who also commutes from Santa Cruz. I may have thrown her off with my pink, sparkly sequined top and jeans. Not the look of a doctoral candidate, I presume, far less a doctor of philosophy.
On my way home, I stopped by Grandpa's place. I don't know how long it will take for me to fully accept his passing, but today brought me a few steps closer. It was as though he never lived there. All of the "treasures" he had hanging from the ceiling or piled high in the yard and around his small living quarters are long gone. The place looks great other than the ugly corrugated tin that lines the fence. What's missing is the character and vitality that it had when Grandpa lived there. A place that I looked forward to visiting every August is now so foreign to me.
Sparky's Island Shirt
Grandpa's Jungle Shack
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