Survival in Tough Times: If you don’t already feed the birds, consider starting. It’s an investment in peace and tranquility, and don’t forget that the old bird woman will be smiling at you from her place on the steps of St. Paul’s
In May of 1972, I went to Europe for a three-week stint. I was just a year into an eye-opening run as a double history major at Indiana University. For years I had read widely, feasting on the literature and history of Europe, with a particular focus on England, every native speaker’s cornucopia of language and heritage.
There were the usual things to check off my must see list. I wanted to go to sites where my reading had taken me like Victoria Station, Baker Street, and the Old Bailey of Sherlock Holmes and Dickens. There was the Tower of London and Tower Bridge along the Thames and the National Portrait Gallery on Trafalgar Square. I went to see the Ardabil Carpet at the Victoria and Albert Museum after discovering it in Dr. Martin’s Islamic Civilization class freshman year.