
Everything that passed through the mail from England to Canada seems to have suffered a bit in the crossing, if only by taking on an odd smell. Nothing, however, was anywhere near so badly damaged as my world map. Despite being properly packed in a rigid plastic tube, it has been bent, crushed, and mangled. That is a particular shame given that it was an especially good map, and a birthday gift to boot.
Right now, the remains (held aloft by a system of cords I rigged up) are serving as a temporary window covering for the pane facing the street. I should have given it to someone in England, or left it on the wall of my room in Church Walk for the next inhabitant to appreciate.
PS. These 34 degree Celsius days (and twenty degree nights) are a challenge unto themselves. I am looking forward to the autumn.