Easter holiday, long awaited. Spring, even longer. The Easter Monday dawned warm and sunny, such a relief after weeks of indifferently cloudy skies and chilly mornings. The long, gloomy winter has knocked the life out of me, and the recovery is slow. The last days before the Hilary term (life in Oxford is paced by the turn of the academic year, always) were exhausting and exhilarating, full of great things and no time to rest. Optimistically, on my last day at work I chose a set of books to read over the couple weeks I’ve off – I used to be a great reader, and feel embarrassed by how rarely I pick up a book these days, how long it takes me to finish even a simple detective story. I dream of healthy food, of fresh vegetables and nice bread and waking up with a clear head, able to read and think and paint and feel light and alive – as opposed to waking up with a head full of wool.