Dear Doc:
My warmest wishes for a happy birthday. I cant claim to be so remote
as Africa, although many people do think that the remoter parts of New
Mexico are a foreign country. And I can't offer anything half as
clever (or lovely) as even a single line of Carl's acrostic sonnet.
Nor is my excuse for being absent from the celebration especially
strong: its Texas fault
well, the fault of the Board of Education.
Their new standards have had science publishers scrambling to
re-engineer their materials, so that they can run the "adoption
gauntlet" in April. So I've been chained to the computer for the last
seven months, and even this week I've been on yellow alert (orange
alert? purple alert? I get very confused about the color scheme for
alarums these days), in case of emergency work or revisions.
In any case, my very best to you and my fellow alumnae who make the
pilgrimage home. And all my love to Gloria, Angelene, and Marilyn. All
that writing about Angelene's cooking has been making me hungry, just
when I most need to start dieting.
The quotes that Jerald, Eric, Robert, and others have sent got me to
thinking about some of the lines that have stood out in my memory.
Ive always loved how you end your letters with the quote Take pains.
Be perfect. Its something I aspire to daily (and fail to achieve
about as often). Here's another line, not nearly so apt, but which
reflects how you always put us to the test of perfection, pains, and
especially authenticity:
now do I play the touch, to try if thou be current gold indeed.
A sweet quote I remember was one you spoke toward the end of the
summer of 1984:
Where did you study all this goodly speech?
And finally, on the magic of Winedale, particularly the Barn, the Holy
of Holies, which contributed so much to the alchemical process among
those of us fortunate to be there:
Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Many Happy Returns of the Day, sir.
Love,
John