Of graduation and many things, including dragons and an island

I'm not even sure where to start.

I guess I should affirm that I did really graduate on Saturday. Yesterday, that would be. That was a good day; I wasn't quite sure it would be, but then various things happened. Drs. Bouchoc, Vanderpoel, and Hake spoke at the commissioning: good words, words of comfort and reminder and longing toward our true home, a reminder that we are going to the country ruled by the True King. I did not cry all day.

The ceremony itself was good. The robe and mortarboard helped: far from feeling silly, it made me feel official, in place, as part of a company of academics who have been wearing such odd garments for the last five or six hundred years and may well continue wearing them. I appreciated the formality. Another good blessing: God kept anything disastrous from happening.

Only as Jonathan or somebody reminded me at lunch, now I have "B.A." after my name. How peculiar.

I did go to lunch; my sister, parents, and grandparents were there, as was my friend Sarah with her husband and baby whom I hadn't ever seen. I was delighted they came. And Jonathan and his family came, as did Guthrie, Thacia, Trissie, Rose, and Kelly-Christelle. All of you, I am so grateful you came. I only wish I could have talked to you each, more, properly, instead of only briefly and in snatches. Not that I have anything really to say, but I wanted to say it to y'all.

In the afternoon I was granted about four hours to do my final packing and cleaning. I needed them. Thanks to Lisa, who helped me throw things away and allowed herself to be bequeathed many things. Further thanks to Jennifer, for further bequeathals. Thanks to Mr. Kanary and to Ben A: they did the final loading. Thanks to my sister and the Ethertons, for they helped the final cleaning, and Eric, who took apart our bathroom shelf for us. :-) These thanks look very dry and rapid-fire, but believe me, they are sincere. It is a very good blessing that I got packed, cleaned, and checked out; I find that far more stressful than finals.

I had a weird blessing while I was packing. I discovered at the last minute a mug which had gotten missed. It was my leopard-spotted mug, which my RA Kerri gave me, and I loved it. There wasn't room for it, there really wasn't. And it was cracked. But I loved it. So I while I wrestled over what to do with the thing, I washed it. And I dropped it. It broke good and proper. I felt like God was reminding me that my time at school is over: He will systematically break all my dishes which I love in preparation for what's coming later, and it will be well worth it. So it both saved me having to pack it and reminded me of my place in the universe. As I said, it was a weird blessing. :-)

The evening brought a contra dance. I didn't know if I'd be able to go at all, and I was. I danced my fair share of the dances and maybe more, considering how scarce PHC gentlemen were. Yet they were all which we could have requested: most considerate about not leaving anyone out. All us ladies were given turns. Thank you, guys. The Bluemont group which organized the dance was so kind: the ticket lady let me in at the student price, and they even had a "Congratulations PHC Graduates" cake. They did not need to do that, but we appreciated it, I think.

And I got to say goodbye to many, many of my friends. I shall not list you all, for you know who you are. But I am grateful, very grateful, to have gotten to say goodbye to you.

Today we got up and came to Chincoteague. It is as lovely as I remembered it; much warmer, which is nice, still almost intolerably windy on the beach and still half-enchanted in its forests. The houses are still cute and the McDonalds right where we left it. It is good to be here with my family, though oh so different, and I think about you from the Red House everywhere on this island. On the beach we found a dead stingray, many disintegrated crabs, a lot of seagulls, and rather fewer good shells than in March; perhaps I shall post more about our trip to the beach later. Beaches were good inventions.

So here I sit, blogging away on my beautiful new computer. Thacia, I've named it "Chrysophylax Turion," after the silver-loving dragon Farmer Giles tamed and after the computer's kind. (Ben, I thank you again for reading that story. I think I know why it suits you to read Tolkien: it is because you love him, and love brings knowledge.) I knew I should call my computer "Turion," because it's a good name, very Narnian and Tolkienian, besides being the model it is, but the first name gave me problems. My sister was the one who pointed out that I should go for a dwarvish, dragonish, or astronomical first name, because Turion would sound just silly with a lot of earthier names. My computer is a lover of metals, not wood.

I must speak to you, my longsuffering roommate. I know I have not expressed to you remotely how much I appreciated your good counsel, fashion advice, compliments, longsuffering while I packed (or stressed) and cleaned (or wrote DRW instead of cleaning), and caritas. Remember, puella: the coffee and grace were sufficient for the time. Now we get new supplies.

And it will be good.