Happy Holidays! We hope that you’re taking at least a bit of a break from pipetting and typing sometime last week or this week. In the mean time, here’s a pretty graph to add to the flashing lights: Cheers! -Anya
Missed the beginning? Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Part 7 Scrooge awoke with a start. He was in his own bed. And seemingly alive! What a relief! He bounced out of bed and ran to his window. Looking down, he saw a student walking by on the street outside and called down to her “You there! What day is it?” “It’s Christmas day, sir!” the student called back, looking a bit perplexed.
Missed the beginning? Parts 1, 2, 3, 4, and 5. Part 6 A final chime sounded. Steam poured from the radiator, swirling through the air until it congealed into a dark hooded figure: The Spirit of Christmas Future. As Scrooge stared at the figure in trepidation, it silently raised a robed arm and gestured forward. Scrooge followed its direction, and found himself in the faculty lounge of his department. A group of professors were chatting.
Missed the beginning? Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4. Part 5 The scene before Scrooge and the Spirit of Christmas Present shifted. Now, they were in an ornately decorated room with lively music playing and a large Christmas dinner laid out on the table. The house belonged to Fred Hollowell, and was filled with his collaborators, friends, and all of their families. As Scrooge looked on, he was struck by vibrancy of the conversations and the diversity of people having them. The scientists in the room were not immediately identifiable by their appearance; men and women of a wide variety of ethnicities were represented, and conversation among groups seemed to zig-zag back and forth between seemingly unrelated topics, many of which seemed to have nothing to do with science at all.
Missed the beginning? Parts 1, 2, and 3. Part 4 Another bell tolled and Scrooge found himself in the company of a new spirit. The Spirit of Christmas Present laughed heartily and guided Scrooge out the door and into a warmly-lit apartment. Cheap folding chairs placed around a stark wooden table made up the extent of the kitchen furnishings, but the four eldest Cratchit children sat cheerily around them, laughing and decorating Christmas cookies. Bob Cratchit’s wife had filled the small kitchen with festive dishes, many seasoned with herbs from the window garden that she and the kids had made out of old soda bottles. Just then, Bob Cratchit opened the door, Tiny Tim riding on his shoulders, crutch in hand. Bob was joyously greeted by the rest of the family, the other kids lifting Tim off of […]