My Little Professor

Oxford. England that is. Not Mississippi where one might be more likely to find a young Professor of Southern Literature hanging out at Faulkner's home.

But at the University of Worcester where you can go to the Bodleian library for real and live in a dorm famous people may have inhabited before you.

A place where field trips might include castles and cliffs and towers filled with romantic stories, and ghosts, and even Will Shakespeare's house.

That's where Bestest is heading on a long trip across the pond tonight. He won't be home till morning in August and I'll miss him.

But then he'll only be home a month before he leaves for Bogliasco in Genoa, Italy. That's the problem with having a Bestest who is also a world class author and teacher. I don't get to see him very often.

I will however get to be the nanny who cares for his Maddie while he's in Italy and I'm looking forward to that. I'll slather all my love on her as we keep each other company walking the flower filled avenues of an Alabama suburb.