Alack, fie! It has been colder than Dante’s Hell this past fortnight on the forlorn banks of icy Lake Michigan. That is, until Mother Nature smiled upon us this last Monday, casting sunlight down upon us pale wretches. But the sunshine has melted all the gray snow into puddles the size of a penny-farthing front wheel! It has made traveling to one’s classes, promenading along the lakefill and traipsing to the apothecary to acquire “the Second Plan” near impossible! As a student of radio and silent film, I have experienced hardships. But none so hard as commuting to mine classes!

It is not such a problem for the campus croquet and bocce players. Indeed, they simply gallivant about on their donkeys (who, truth be told, stink and are quite noisy! I once saw one tear the hem of a young lady’s frock). And all of the ladies except for me seem to have doting gentleman admirers to lay down their coats. I have never longed more for the touch of a gentleman or for his lovely coat stuffed with the feathers of a Canadian goose. If only I had worn my green velvet dress to the residential college board’s Christmas party last winter – surely Archibald would have asked for my hand!

In the end, I was forced to stomp through the puddles all by my lonesome. Truth be told, I had been trying to accustom my feet to a pair of new boots gifted to me by Dr. Martens. But, curse it all, the puddles wet my socks and now I have a most terrible blister.