2018: The Wacky Wiegler Year in Review

I do this every year, but because my favorite stuffed cabbage-making-Chagallesque painter-cum mystic has passed, I contemplated chucking it. Then I heard Mom's voice admonishing, 'Have fun!'

So here goes...

JANUARY:

I had to move out of my beautiful apartment in Falls Church, Virginia and get back to London and my classes at King's College London. Although I'd started my course in early October (two weeks late), I couldn't get out of my lease at Oakwood. Turned out, though, that being able to soak up the ambiance of DC was enriching. I took advantage of my locale and did research at Library of Congress and Folger Shakespeare Library. LOC was particularly useful for my essay on pickpockets in the Eighteenth Century. When I left DC in early January, Wally and I had to spend another night in Paris because London doesn't allow pets to fly in in the cabin. That was fine until I realized I wasn't as far along on pickpockets as I'd hoped! Brilliant plan, though, was taking off for a few hours to visit La Tour Eiffel. The next day the essay was filed and Wally and I were on a massive ship churning across the English Channel back to Dover. My Bla Bla Car driver would later say I was nice but had been overly worried about my 🐈! (Animals must stay inside carriers in vehicles on another floor of the ship.)

FEBRUARY I was studying harder than I ever had, particularly because I was daunted by my philosophy professor (here called a 'tutor'), who challenged the class by calling upon students at whim. We were also not allowed to bring our laptops to class. This turned out to be good practice because a few months later I'd either leave my Mac Air on the District line on the Tube, or it was swiped from under my arm.😓😔 I also enjoyed visiting the Science Museum for my Public History of Science, Technology, and Medicine module. I brought my laptop and Facetimed with Mom, who got to see a special exhibit on the history of medicine through my FaceTime connection. She oohed and aahed and contributed to the discussion. She was a retired fifth grade teacher who knew a lot about science. She'd gotten straight A's in Bio and Chem, and whenever I forgot something from the Periodic Table (which was all the time), Mom could jump in. That day was a happy one, and later she'd email me about the resplendent visit.

MARCH

Still working hard, my teachers went on strike. I lost four lessons with my philosophy professor. Mom was livid. 'You've lost intellectual capital.' Yet, she speculated that I'd probably get more reading done not having to go to class. My profs, who were striking for the justifiable cause of retaining threatened pension funds, all worked hard to make it up to students on non-strike days, and I disciplined myself to keep up with reading. Because my program was carried out in tandem with the British Museum, my posse of Eighteenth-Century 'groupies' (as we call ourselves on WhatsApp) could still learn under marvelous scholars and curators, whether about slavery or Blake's engravings. Getting to go to the back rooms at the British Museum is a rare treat. For part of my core course essay second semester, I tapped the Coins and Medals room and their lovely staff.

APRIL

I took a day to visit the divine seaside village of Felpham, where William Blake lived and created with wife Catherine for a few years during his only soujourn from London. I had signed up to present on an aspect of his time there, and in researching him sparked Mom's interest. She bought a book of his poems and letters, scribbling thoughtfully in the margins. I also took her on a virtual tour of his engravings and sketches at Tate Britain. Time sped. I had a final philosophy class with Niall (we called our tutors by their first names, which surprised me at first), and I absorbed as much as I could out of his quick recap on Malthus and Hume and Paley. I'd choose to write on Hume's use of the dialogue form for my essay. Niall was thorough in giving both office and phone time to help me hone in. My grade, two points below distinction, reflected this. In this month I also saw Edinburgh and Rome for the first time. The former helped when I needed to tap into the spirit of Hume, which I did.

MAY I began work on my dissertation, though a bit late because students had gotten extensions on our essay deadlines. It took a while for the convenors to place me with a supervisor, so I took it upon myself to ask Anna Maerker, one of my Public History of Science tutors, if she would take this up. To my delight, she was happy to. My subject started off vaguely, something to do with King George III's scientific instruments, then I discovered his interest in something called a circumferentor, a type of souped up Eighteenth-Century compass, and was beginning to find my way. From the outset, Anna told me to let the research dictate where I went and not to consider any research wasted. I had a dream that I would be able to do research at Windsor Castle, but for several weeks, my e-mails weren't answered.

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JUNE

My dad had a birthday party in Point Pleasant, New Jersey and I was excited to go. When told we'd hit the horse races on Father's Day (also his birthday this year), I got some fashion advice from classmate Rebecca Rose Salter, who told me I should find a dress to exactly match my fascinator. My dad was so impressed he said it looked like I was going to Wimbledon (where I did go the following month, albeit to the cheap 'seats' on a hill outside the stadium!) I was the only person who didn't bet that day, but it was fun being back in the US and seeing family including Wiegler cousins. I returned to London and began my most feverish research to date. I didn't do much besides read, take notes, scurry back and forth to the British Library, King's College Foyle Special Collections, Maughan library, etc. Then that fateful day came, and the head of the history department had put in a word for me at Windsor. I was on my way! Visiting the Round Tower to do research is not like visiting a city library, though, and so I can't share more than that I culled original documents on this and a later visit that really brought the thesis alive. I was particularly fascinated to read a letter from the son of KGIII's keeper at Kew Observatory in which he detailed all the various instruments such as quadrants and telescopes the king stored there. By this time, I was focusing my research on the circumferentor and theodolite, the telescope, and timekeeper.

JULY

I had been going through some health issues, which I still am, and one of my sweet young classmates, Carlos Rodriguez-Sanchez, not only provided cheerful support (one day he met me outside the hospital, then tooled around London with me and took photos), but had become my go-to presentation partner. I always felt we brought out the best in one another, perhaps because we are both writers, and were two of only three non-Brits in class. Carlos is from Spain, where he now works as an English teacher! 😀 In July mainly I just kept plugging on the thesis, keeping a little tally of my hours on the back of my bureau. I had asked my delightful personal tutor, an American, Mark Turner what amount of hours was appropriate. 'Well, don't overdo it but more than 20,' he'd said with a laugh. I am paraphrasing. His point was that I shouldn't bog myself down in such minutae, but remember, 'this is your full-time job now.' Mark had been so generous with his time that day, meeting me after lunch at the British Library, and not looking at his watch. He was always that kind, generous and supportive.

AUGUST

Aahh, August. You started off full of such promise! I was enjoying the warm days in West London, tooling through the city (albeit with a borrowed computer from Maughan because mine had gone missing, as I said), and working hard. I had a mini break planned for my birthday, August 19-20, in Stockholm. It was an eventful flight because the flight attendant, hearing it was my birthday, gave me a special Swedish chocolate. I took a train in and was bowled over by its storybook charm, the pale colours, the castle gracing this centuries-old Scandinavian seaside city. I checked in exhausted, though, hoping to get some shut-eye. My tiny room of the boutique hotel, swathed in comforting yellows and greens, delightfully matched my outfit! I soon called my mother, though realized it was probably just 5 a.m. in Texas. She picked up the phone and then set it down without speaking. Urrr. Well, I would wait a couple hours. When I called later, she chirped, 'Happy birthday, 🍑.' I was delighted that she was being sweet, as we'd had a row a few days earlier. She continued, 'I'm so glad your father and I decided to have you fifty-seven years ago.' I smiled, and told her how lovely Stockholm was, that I matched the room. 'And yellow is your favorite color,' she said sweetly. She told me Mrs. Clarin, with whom she'd taught school in Livermore, California, had lived there a year. (Mark Clarin would later tell me it had actually been several years.) Mom also told me to enjoy the flowers in Europe, saying she remembered 'how bright and beautiful they are.' This struck me instinctively as overly sentimental. In retrospect it made sense. My mother would pass away three days later.

SEPTEMBER

My world had crashed in a single call on 22 August. September, then, was a blur many days with my calling Texas, where my brother now was, and handling the business with my dissertation. Mark urged me to take the full month's extension I could be granted, and after some thought, I agreed. I booked a round-trip flight to Dallas, leaving in early October.

OCTOBER

My cousins, uncle and aunt joined my brother and I for a riverside memorial in Waco, the city where Mom had done her undergraduate studies in elementary education. I had visited Mom in Waco in mid-September of last year. During that trip she took me to the Baylor campus, we sat beside a memorial pond, and she told me about being with my father near there. My mother was still so good looking that an older man in a sports car, upon exiting it, found an excuse to talk to her. It was no wonder. Such a radiant beauty with deep blue eyes and dimples. My dad had been attracted to her because of the latter, calling out, 'Hi, Dimples,' as he passed her in a park in San Antonio. That day, returning to Waco, she told me 'I wondered if he were German or Jewish, and if I'd marry him.'

NOVEMBER

Having filed my dissertation 4 October, November was a month for healing, job hunting, and trying to make sense of what happened. That hasn't occurred.I received my dissertation grade, just four points shy of Distinction.

DECEMBER

Knowing I'd face my first Christmas without Mom was crushing. During our birthday call, Mom had apologized for not having sent me a birthday card or present: 'I'll make it up to you at Christmas.' I decided during December to hold off a bit on PhD applications, at least a year. Yet in the midst of my grief and indecision, became interested in 'Frankenstein' and its relationship to my historical research. The wheels started turning, and I mentioned to some of my tutors that I'll meander back to English, subject of my BA, from Eighteenth-Century Studies. This year, as I work probably in the New York area, I have time to flesh out my idea. Tonight, though, the lights are shining here in my wee Victorian room in Ealing. The hand of Mom, who taught me more in 57 years than I could ever read in books, will continually guide me...and be in my heart as I graduate 14 January.