Jo March lives on my floor. She was educated by principled (catholic philosophical vegetarian) parents in a remote part of the country. She is amazingly well read, well behaved and plays several intruments. She speaks greek and latin and has read all the church fathers plus most of the philosophical classics. She has the most inspiring conversation, the broadest smile and the best cooking.
We've just spent the evening playing wind intruments (with me on the clarinet and "Jo" on the bason), talking about politics with a visiting professor of theology from Duke who also happens to live in college and rehearsing Becca's wedding song. There was five or six of us. It was such a great evening. I'm realising that I need more of this to fill my heart's home. I've secretly always longed for the March's attic brand of fun. This is as close as it gets.
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