I've been editing an art-criticism book and, strangely enough, have come across an endnote that mentions, of all people, Margaret Jourdain, Milly's sister, who was an expert on furniture and the decorative arts as well as being Ivy Compton-Burnett's live-in friend. The note was citing Margaret's translation of Diderot. Actually, what it was doing was paraphrasing her translation, which itself was too clunky and obscure to be quoted in full. Among jargony art critics, this says a lot.

Jourdains everywhere, I tell you; and not always showing their best sides.

In other news, you'll be thrilled to learn that the Harmony boys finally won a basketball game yesterday, though the game itself was mean and aggressive, fraught with technical fouls, crowd bitching, and coach ejection. Fortunately for our boys and coach, we not only looked (mostly) like innocent victims but also got a lot more baskets. But now the boys are a little bit afraid to play this team again. Meanwhile, I have gotten very good at making gallons and gallons of popcorn. It's a rather pleasant coma-like sensation, standing over the stove in the school kitchen, endlessly stirring kernels as the red-faced referees bumble in and out of my view, missing their various calls and driving the crowd mad.

In other news, the school's water system is frozen, broken, or otherwise nonfunctional, so now Harmony has a four-day weekend. This means that I have to record myself reading "First Game" with other people in the house. Ick. I am recording this for the Poetry Speaks website, which you might want to check out. I'll be in the PS Voices section, once I get this recording problem solved.

And don't forget to finish act 1 of A Winter's Tale. I'll be posting a discussion starter for this section tomorrow.