Vox clamantis in deserto

A brief post from my current outpost: Dartmouth. I'm spending the week in the exceedingly pleasant Rauner Library madly transposing letters written to Houghton Mifflin about Eleanor Porter's post-Pollyanna novels novel, Just David. I will not finish in time to return home, and so will need to have massive amounts of photocopying done.

After reading tons of letters during the day, I have been spending my dinner hour reading Ruth Reichl's oeuvre. I now want to know whether it is too late to become Ruth Reichl. I fear that it is. But I do know enough to know that my dinner tonight was mediocre at best.

If I manage no more dispatches from the Granite state, I'll see you when I get back in place...