No doubt it's time I said something about the tiger. I should mention, perhaps before I recount the particulars of how it escaped and how its escaped prefigured the momentary tragedies and enduring triumphs of our silent March, that several anniversaries ago R and I were able to travel, slowly, up to Philadelphia by way of Baltimore to cath a remarkable exhibition of maps at the Walter's Art Gallery. At least one of the maps contained a tiger, but I can't recall itf it is the map I've ben proccupied with lately.

The exhibition was so transporting we spent at least an hour wandering through the meandering narrative of what humans have made of maps for centuries upon centuries. It contained everything from the stylized graphic art of a London Underground map made in the early 1900s to a craggy lenght of polished wood which an Eskimo would run his hands along while kayaking along the shoreline in the dartk, navigating by sense and counting outcroppings and inlets.

One map from Edo period Japan though traced a pisirutal pilgrimage. Rather than being strictly representative of taking this road or that road to and from a holy city it stressed spiritual exercises at particular points and was illustrated with drawings to aid the pilgrim in achieving the full measure of his pilgrimage. Well, I've been doing something which can be considered some fashion of pilgrimage, but doing it without benefit of a map. I realized recently, and with a healthy measure of shame, that I had never read LORD OF THE FLIES by William Golding. It is one of several conspicuous and surprising gaps in my literary education,m suprising especially for a student of English literature. Well, as a remedy to this problem I've been reading my way through everything that Golding published, finishing of course and in true pilgrim's fashion, wirth the object which precipitated the journey in the first place, Golding's first published work, LORD OF THE FLIES.

Well, I mention this I suppose not because it is particular to the focus of this month, but because it isn't. I have been reading through Golding's books on the train for two months or so, and am happy to report I am most of the way completed with them. no, I mention it because it is an area of interesting accomplishment I have focused on in the last week.

But this last week has, apart from my adventures in Golding been notable for its deviations, actually. R and I listened to two British radio shows, and I should like to add that British radio is simply better than our American radio. Say what you want about whether the federal government should be funding NPR, but recognize simlutaneously that it is the only thing we have that approximates worthwhile radio in America. I don't really want to debate that, not here anyway. But I will say that we listened to two episodes of THE UNBELIEVABLE TRUTH, which is possibly the funniest and smartest radio show going st the moment. It is currently in its 7th season and I am enjoying listening through it a great deal.

We also notably broke our strict fast this week to draw the blinds and enjoy an episode of the new PBS UPSTAIRS, DOWNSTAIRS. Don't judge us too harshly, we had a long day in the car with all three kids before hand and when evening came around we were rsather downtrodden and a little desperate.

That;'s all for this week though, which the exception of the tiger story, which, sadly, will have to wait. My sincewrest apologies.