, , , ,

I’m reading coverage of DragonCon–like you do–and come across epbot’s picture of Peter Davison, along with anolder picture for comparison. He looked awfully familiar. My brain says he looks like a medical man… A doctor. Then I have to laugh, because of course, he played the Doctor. But my stubborn brain insisted no, that’s not what it meant. So I looked it up, and you know what? My stubborn brain was right. Peter Davison played the vet Tristan in BBC’s James Herriot series. Which may make me the only Whovian in the room who recognises the actor better with farm animals than with celery.

Incidentally, the Oxford English dictionary recently added the word whovian to its hallowed pages. Just sayin’. (Also incidentally, it turns out that I have no control over the italicization within hyperlinks in this app.)

o O o

In more local news, I spent a wonderful day on the campus of my undergraduate alma mater visiting with old professors. (Were I writing in Spanish or French, you would be able to tell whether the professors are aged or merely former from the word order. But I’m not, and you shall have to languish in uncertainty.) Things are, unsurprisingly, both changed and not changed. Part of the dustbowl is now covered by a massive new humanities building, full of elegant conference, seminar and class rooms. The quad is now somewhat devoid of shade until the new trees grow in (but it no longer smells like ginkgo fruit, which is an improvement to one sense, at least).

Now for one last night in the States. My glimpse of the beginning of fall semester and old friends, combined with enough sleep, makes me just about ready to go back to Edinburg and pick up real life where I left off. Which is to say, as a Master of Science. Which means that everthing I’ve done is FOR SCIENCE.