And I ached for my heart like some tin man

We're starting week 3 of this new semester at Princeton. It's weird to be starting so late. But Princeton has an infamous schedule. So week 3 it is.

I don't know how this semester will turn out. Last semester turned out better than I expected. I did well. Better than well, actually. And that was a huge relief. This semester I might have chewed off more than is good for me, but time will tell. Somehow I'll manage. I always do, right?

The weather has been so strange. Saturday night it snowed. It was aggressive snow; it pounded against my window panes and my small air vent over my stove howled with the wind. Sunday it was a pleasant snow day. A walking snow day, where you can walk outside without gloves and the snow glistens in a warm February sun. Yesterday it rained and misted like London. And later this week? It's supposed to be 72 degrees. As warm as May. We're going through seasons and places faster than any normal cycle should. So strange, so strange.

Let me always remember the golf course covered with snow, the children and parents sliding on toboggans, and walks and runs around the Institute Woods with those who are becoming dear and those who are becoming dearest.

Let me always remember the carillon bells reminding me of noon, and let it remind me of bells in Provo, pealing out reminders of "no toil nor labor fear." Grace shall be as your day. And I have to believe that. That grace will be given. It is a gift. Daily bread. Just enough to see me through the day. And I do believe it because I have felt it. Seen it. Sometimes not in the moment, but looking back. It's there. It always has been. Grace shall be as my day. 

Let me always remember the kindness of people. Of tears noticed, of comfort given, of hot chocolates bought just for me since I don't drink coffee. Of conversations in the library, of smiles, and glances, and recognitions that yes, maybe we are friends after all.

There's a new art installation in the Firestone Library. It's made up of old card catalogs. And I love it. I can't explain why I love it so much. I just love it.

It's hard to believe that it has now been less than a year since I got my acceptance letter to Princeton. But it has. It has. I wonder if I'd choose it again. I think I would. For all its difficulty and uncertainty, I think I would.

Song of the Day: "Stable Song," by Gregory Alan Isakov