A Birthday Haiku for Jules

I'm going to break my recent habit of laundry-list posts and write in verse for a few seconds this morning.

Jules, you are the bomb
Always calm, always stylish,
With a funny laugh.

Notice the perfect iambic pentameter and spondees and crap. Oh wait, that's sonnets. Remember that I am almost a master of English (but not of Japanese poetry).

A few more seconds in prose: last night we celebrated Jules' 30th by walking out to the Trout, a great outdoor pub by the river. It was a nice hour-long stroll along bucolic grassy meadows in the slanty afternoon sun, where we saw cows, bunny rabbits, houseboats (along the canal) and horses. Given that this is the final push to the end of our coursework, it will be a heavy work week of research and a tough sprint to the tape until graduation (and more importantly, until our final papers are handed in). So, particularly nice that we were able to assemble as a group in celebration of Jules and each other last night. At two different points in the evening last night, I felt myself looking at the group as a whole and feeling lucky for them and the great company they've offered over the last five weeks. Some smart, funny, caring people we have here.

I'm going to sequester myself in the Bodleian now, and hopefully the next time you hear from me, I'll at least have an outline done. If not, let the crazy, nonsensical procrastination blogging begin.