Andrew and I stayed in all weekend, studying, reading, cooking, listening to music, sending email and instant messages, and talking on the phone. It was the most relaxing weekend we have had for weeks and weeks and weeks. There was nothing on our schedule, nothing pressing that needed attention, nothing that warranted leaving the apartment, nothing that distracted us from getting plenty of rest and relaxation.
It was a wonderful weekend, mellow and sweet—and, in another week or so, I shall begin getting tense in anticipation of next month’s exams, so this weekend was very important to me.
We cooked steak, we cooked chicken, we cooked salmon. We ate pasta, we ate potatoes, we ate rice. I think we ate every vegetable known to man. We made cranberry-orange muffins, apple muffins, raspberry tarts and apricot tarts. We made strawberry-pear salad, apple-cranberry salad, tomato-cucumber salad and Amish pepper salad. We ate grapefruit, we ate oranges, we ate pears, we ate plums. We had everything except a Christmas pudding.
I’m starting to like our apartment, which is sort of frightening. The apartment appears to be larger, and more spacious, when we can open the window in the living room, which we were able to do this weekend owing to the good weather. We can survive another two years here.
In another four weeks, my academic year will be over. I look forward to a relaxing and stimulating summer.
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