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Meet Mr. Leopold Bloom. It is about 8 am, around the same time Buck Mulligan is calling Stephen Dedalus up the stairhead in the Martello Tower. At 7 Eccles Street, Bloom is making breakfast for himself and his wife, Molly, who is still drowsing in bed.

A brief description of Bloom, again courtesy Vladimir Nabokov’s Lectures on Literature:

Bloom is the son of a Hungarian Jew Rudolph Virag (which means “flower�� in Hungarian), who changed his name to Bloom, and of Ellen Higgins, of mixed Irish and Hungarian descent. Thirty-eight years old, born in 1866 in Dublin. Attended a school conducted by a Mrs. Ellis, then high school with Vance as teacher, finished schooling in 1880. Because of neuralgia and loneliness after his wife’s death, Bloom’s father committed suicide in 1886. Bloom met Molly, the daughter of Brian Tweedy, when they were paired off in a game of musical chairs in Mat Dillon’s house. He married her on 8 October 1888, he being twenty-two and she eighteen. Their daughter Milly was born 15 June 1889, son Rudy in 1894, died when only eleven days old. At first Bloom was an agent for the stationery firm of Wisdom Hely’s, at one time he had also been with a firm of cattle dealers working at the cattle market.

In the Odyssey, Odysseus is imprisoned (in a nice way) by the nymph Calypso on the island of Ogygia (book 5). Athena begs Zeus to free him.

Athene was speaking of Odysseus�� many sufferings, recalling them to their minds, unhappy that he was still a prisoner in Calypso’s isle:

"Father Zeus…[Odysseus] suffers misery in the island home of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him captive there. He cannot head for home without oared ship or crew to carry him over the sea’s wide back: and men plot to murder his beloved son who is journeying home from sacred Pylos and noble Sparta, where he went seeking news of his father.��

Leopold Bloom makes breakfast, speaks briefly to the cat, and decides to visit the neighborhood butcher for a pork kidney. As he leaves the house he notices that he does not have his house key. He is dressed in mourning for a funeral, and remembers that his key is in his other pants. He does have his potato, however.

On the way back from the butcher he picks up the mail at the door. He receives a postcard from his daughter, Milly, who is working for a photographer in Mullingar. Bloom also delivers a letter to Molly, who is a professional singer, from her impresario (and lover) Blazes Boylan. Molly has some questions for Bloom about something she has been reading. She wants to know what “metempsychosis�� is.

While thinking of an explanation, Bloom notices the picture above the bed: The Bath of the Nymph. Meanwhile the kidney has begun to burn. He rushes to the kitchen downstairs to save it. While he eats, he reads the card from Milly. He repairs to the outhouse with a copy of Tit-Bits, a popular magazine to which Bloom thinks about sending a story in hopes of winning a prize. He finishes by tearing off half of the story and wiping himself.

How does Bloom react to the articles of mail? Why does he react or not react the way he does?

The picture of the Nymph is hard to miss as a suggestion of Calypso, but are there any suggestions that Bloom is held captive like Odysseus? What is Molly like in this episode? Does she strike you as a Calypso-like character?

Patrice wrote: "He seems to be a sensualist. So different from SD, who is so cerebral. So abstract. Bloom is all body, And when something threatens to disturb him, he knows how to fight it. "

I think you're right. Joyce told Budgen, "Among other things, my book is the epic of the human body."

We don't see this so much with Stephen, but with Bloom we definitely do. Bloom enjoys his food, he admires the vigorous hips of the "nextdoor girl" at the counter in the butcher shop, and more often than not it is music that interrupts his stream of consciousness (rather than philosophy or theology).

Speaking of which, here are links to a few of the songs in this episode.

Seaside Girls



Love's Old Sweet Song
John McCormack - Love's Old Sweet Song (Just a Song at Twilight) (1927)



La ci darem la mano - Thomas Allen & Joan Rodgers (Don Giovanni ROH'88)

Thomas wrote: "Seaside Girls..."

The expression reminds me of Proust. Is any allusion intended here? I haven't checked timing of the texts.

Ahem , “metempsychosis�� is the transmigration of Calypso to Molly. and Ody-ss-eus to Bl-oo-m.

These are not the type of people I am used to associating with.

I see Stephen as more at sea than Bloom. Stephen is forging his own way as an artist, so he has the daunting task of re-creating himself.

Not so Bloom, whose intellectual life is simpler and down to earth. He is curious about the physical world and for the most part he is pragmatic. I think as you go you'll see that Bloom is not at all like Falstaff. Bloom is a sensualist, but not a libertine.

But this is only our first glimpse of Bloom (unless you've already read ahead, that is.) There is a lot more to come.

Patrice wrote: "I haven't even finished this week's reading and of course it's only a glimpse of Bloom. But what struck me was how little he seems to care about his wife's infidelity. That's what pointed me in t..."

Good heavens. I totally missed the infidelity. Where was it?

This chapter, in my opinion, didn't have the shards of eloquence in the first three. That is to say, shards of eloquence mixed in the rubble.

Patrice wrote: "I haven't even finished this week's reading and of course it's only a glimpse of Bloom. But what struck me was how little he seems to care about his wife's infidelity. That's what pointed me in t..."

I'm still here, Patrice! And quite enjoying Calypso.

Writers are told all the time that the first sentence really counts. In fact, Poets & Writers magazine has a feature called "Page One" in which they list the first lines of a dozen or so new books. So I couldn't help exclaiming at the first line of this section: "Mr. Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls." That made me laugh out loud and established character faster than any other first line I think I've ever read!

Patrice wrote: " But what struck me was how little he seems to care about his wife's infidelity. "

Oh, he does care, but... we'll learn more about that in a bit.

I read in schmoop that Bloom is worried that his wife may be unfaithful in this chapter. Funny, I read the passages as he was worried about his daughter. Is he worried about one, the other or both?

Patrice wrote: "But what struck me was how little he seems to care about his wife's infidelity."

I wasn't positive about the infidelity, only suspected it by the way the letter was tucked away, and then only opened and read after Bloom left the room. Since I only suspected infidelity, I assumed that Bloom also only suspected, and that's why he asked who the letter was from. It seemed he knew it was from a man (bold hand), and the way she tucked it away makes it instantly suspicious. But the reason she gives for the letter (He's bringing the programme) isn't a valid reason for hiding the letter.

This chapter had me drawn to Bloom instantly by the way he talked to his cat. That first page was great, especially when he mocked his cat for being Afraid of the chickens...Afraid of the chookchooks. As someone who has both cats and chickens myself, I was laughing at such truth! Anyway, I just loved the entire opening page and I instantly found myself liking Bloom, even though I know nothing else about him.

Hollyinnnv wrote: "I read in schmoop that Bloom is worried that his wife may be unfaithful in this chapter. Funny, I read the passages as he was worried about his daughter. Is he worried about one, the other or both?"

Both, I think, but neither is glaringly obvious yet. The "young student' who strikes Milly's fancy sings a song that conjures up Molly's lover, Blazes Boylan. A double blow for Mr. Bloom.

Kathy wrote: "Writers are told all the time that the first sentence really counts....."Mr. Leopold Bloom ate with relish the inner organs of beasts and fowls." That made me laugh out loud..."

Interesting, Kathy. Now I'm sure to be noticing more closely the first line of each book.

Loved that first line too, especially the "ate with relish" phrase. I think I'm going to start using it myself!

Linda wrote: "This chapter had me drawn to Bloom instantly by the way he talked to his cat. That first page was great, especially when he mocked his cat for being Afraid of the chickens...Afraid of the chookcho..."

I just finished this chapter and I agree! I love how he talks to his cat (I have two of my own) and I love how he calls chickens chookchooks. Very endearing.

Thomas, was Molly pregnant when they got married? The dates would seem to indicate it right? It's too early for me to get a sense of the passion between them except for this one small tidbit. But they both seem to be very sensual people.

Linda wrote: "Patrice wrote: "But what struck me was how little he seems to care about his wife's infidelity."

I wasn't positive about the infidelity, only suspected it by the way the letter was tucked away, an..."

Bloom is also a little jarred by the way the letter is addressed: Mrs. Marion Bloom. Mrs. Marion. (Not "Mrs. Leopold Bloom.")

Zippy wrote: "That is to say, shards of eloquence mixed in the rubble."

I like the bits of rubble.

Thomas wrote: "he admires the vigorous hips of the "nextdoor girl" at the counter in the butcher shop"

I was chuckling at this part - hurrying to get his kidney wrapped and paid for so he could get out of the shop quickly after her...and then...she's gone.

Well, I don't want to stuff the threads with bits that I found amusing. But, suffice it to say that I enjoyed this chapter.

And one of my favorite lines, I just smiled at the thought of Bloom walking along in the pleasure of the sun:

His eyelids sank quietly often as he walked in happy warmth

Thomas wrote: "Bloom is also a little jarred by the way the letter is addressed: Mrs. Marion Bloom. Mrs. Marion. (Not "Mrs. Leopold Bloom.")"

Oh right. Thanks for pointing that out. I wondered why "Mrs. Marion" kept being pointed out. I, of course, see the importance of that now.

Paula wrote: "Thomas, was Molly pregnant when they got married? The dates would seem to indicate it right? It's too early for me to get a sense of the passion between them except for this one small tidbit. But t..."

Yes, judging by the dates. It doesn't seem a surprise with these two. : )

Patrice wrote: "I've heard it said that men think of sex every 6 seconds or so throughout the day. Seems to be true of Bloom. I think this is one way men and women really differ!"

Hold off with this, the infidelity, and the pregnancy. There is more to be discovered. Meanwhile you can listen to Grace Slick's song Rejoyce by the Jefferson Airplane.

No help from me decoding this one.
You don't happen to know the number of seconds for women, do you? Keep your eye on Molly.

Completely off topic, I was wondering about this desire for pork kidney. When I think of foods that I enjoy first thing in the morning, pork kidney doesn't come to mind. Was kidney a standard breakfast item of the time, like sausages and bacon are now? (I'm assuming at this point that it really is the kidney from a pig and not just a fancy name for a cut of meat.)

I'm also curious about the economics of Bloom and Ireland as well. Is pork kidney a cheap meat or is an expensive meat? That fact that Bloom used part of the story to wipe himself seems to mean that the Blooms are on the poorer end of the socio-economic scale. Or is wiping himself with the paper a statement about the story/paper rather than money?

"Most of all he liked grilled mutton kidneys which gave to his palate a fine tang of faintly scented urine."

The impression I get is that Bloom enjoys earthy pleasures. And of course Patrice is right -- he is not kosher. But there are several references in this episode to his Jewish heritage. He is thinking about his Jewish roots (inspired by the piece of cut newspaper/meat wrapper that he picks up in the butcher shop) while buying a pork kidney. It's strikes me as slightly transgressive.

Thomas wrote: "...It's strikes me as slightly transgressive...."

I may be stretching things to see parallels between SD's and Bloom's rejections of the rituals of their faiths.

I heard somewhere that Ulysses can be read as a novel about a marriage, of which we now watch the first scenes. Though initially the partners seem rather room-mates than spouses, it soon becomes clear that a lot more is going on. Whatever this relation is, it must be something out of the ordinary.

Apparently Molly is bored and thinking of taking a lover. Of which her Poldy seems well aware. Does he accept the situation? Feeling guilty perhaps? Unable to perform his 'duties' as a husband? Oh a cat, feline symbol of aggressive femininity. Can it be that Bloom is afraid of the chookchooks? But out on the street there is nothing wrong with his appetite. Wait, there is another emotion when he returns: voglio e non vorrei. I want and I would not like. Hm (an inversion of the chaste sentiment 'I would like, but do not want').

It so happens that I just read a short article* on the antagonism between Joyce and D.H. Lawrence, relating to each other like two non-corresponding magnetic poles. One reason, says the author, is their completely different idea of sex. With Lawrence sex is supremely animalistic, if I may reformulate it that way. While with Joyce it is too human, all in the head, topsy-turvy.

*

Linda wrote: "This chapter had me drawn to Bloom instantly by the way he talked to his cat. That first page was great, especially when he mocked his cat for being Afraid of the chickens...Afraid of the chookcho..."

I enjoyed reading/ hearing Mr. Bloom, too. Especially his interactions with his cat.

At 12 Nancy wrote: . And quite enjoying Calypso

I'm paying minimal attention (I think) to the chapter titles and their Greek epic implications...but it had been Molly who had wanted the painting, The Bath of the Nymph, over the bed.

In googling about I ran across the line, "...the fair goddess, the nymph Calypso..."

In the Odyssey, Ulysses and Calypso have an sexual relationship. She seduced him. Her name apparently means :to.conceal" or "to deceive."

Sexual complications do not keep Bloom from relishing his kidney - with its faint smell of urine. No lack of immediacy in this department. Can it be that Bloom’s attitude towards sex contradicts his fundamental sensuous nature? With my eyes closed I wouldn't think so - but this is a question I need to keep in mind.

Heaving read one or two of Joyce's famous letters to Nora, I have no doubt that Bloom inherited some of his creators kinks (Joyce had, I remember, an olfactory fetish - reminding me of Paula’s post on the sensitivity of the semi-blind). So if Stephen shows us one side of Joyce, Bloom embodies another. Bisecting an organic entity can never be completely successful, which may help to explain the apparent contradiction.

If you want another example, you can find it in the fact that Bloom’s metabolic process, animalistic as it is, still begins and ends with the act of reading (and don't spoil my comparison by pointing out that reading can be sensuous too).

Misc Thoughts.


Enjoyed reading above thoughts on that opening paragraph. Interesting, Patrice, that Jewish-ness goes through the mother. I had thought maybe , in eating pork, Bloom was rejecting the religion of his people. Like Stephen Dedalus.

Thomas wrote that Bloom enjoyed the earthy pleasures. On my second read through, I started to think it was more than that. Almost like self- flagellation. EDIT ADDED. Not self-flagellation. He's not doing it to himself. But it's as though he's accepting punishment "I deserve it." or something.... *see below. What might Bloom have done to deserve punishment. (??? Something related to his son??? Something related to the "eager fire from the foxeyes--better not:another time--" of the butcher ??? Something Joyce hasn't revealed to us yet???)

I googled on "organ meats." Offal. The less desirable parts. First I thought this meant that maybe Bloom had a personality that tried to make the best of things--- (like people can take the "reject" foods and make them tasty...thought maybe Bloom did that with life. )

The fact that it was kidneys really bolstered this theory. Kidneys remove waste from the body. OK, I thought, maybe Bloom has a ... crap(waste)... life....(son died).. but he tries maybe to remove or get passed the negativity... tries to make life more pleasant ("kindly") for himself and his wife.

But on 2nd read through.... Bloom's not just eating inner organs, he's eating them "with relish." He's thinking with pleasure of the "fine tang of faintly scented urine. "


In googling, I read that in parts of the UK, eating meat pie, organ pie, was eating "umble pie"...and then was eating "Humble Pie."


He ... accepts... a lack of respect from other people without protest. Molly. He suspects or knows. The envelope. How it was addressed. How she hid it. How he spoke "carefully."

And the incense, I thought. "Her full lips, drinking, smiled. Rather stale smell that incense leaves the next day. Like foul flowerwater."

I could be reading too much into that
..but that's what I read. That Molly had had a lover in the house. [Would-be lovers, suitors, ursupers in Ulysses' home???] MAYBE it was Bloom. Maybe someone else.

A lover in the bed, beneath The Bath of the Nymph and they had burned incense. Bloom smells the rather stale smell. [Akin to the fine tinge of urine taste in his kidney??]

"Like foul flowerwater."

Well...this IS Ulysses so I suppose I can just say things. OK. Had Bloom and Molly made love Bloom's ejaculate would have been "flowerwater." [BLOOM = flower].


But Bloom has JUST thought again of that "Bold hand. Marion." From Molly's lover. The "foul" flowerwater would be another man's. Bloom wants to open the window. He won't SAY anything..
but he wants the other man's scent out.

Bloom won't consciously see what he doesn't want to see. Like the cat with it's "shame closing eyes."


Mmm. Could Molly be like the cat? "Cruel. Her nature. Curious mice never squeal. Seem to like it."


Does Bloom like it? * the seeming (**** but maybe actually full of rage below the surface...but he won't see it.) The seeming pleasure he takes in the urine taste, and in rejection. The scene in the butcher shop. The girl had paid no attention to him. Sauntered away. Bloom: "The sting of disregard glowed to a weak pleasure within his breast." He takes pleasure in being rejected by the girl.

Bloom. Such a pleasant, kindly surface. So much anger at women---or at one woman, perhaps? it seems to me, underneath. Is he ... I can't think of the word...passively / aggressively angry at Molly?

The way he thinks of women: "His eyes rested on her vigorous hips." (No name, note, although he knows her.) But then he goes beyond just a sexual thought...He thinks of her as a piece of meat only. "Sound meat there like a stalled heifer"; He holds the farm sheet...but he's's still thinking of the girl

"A young white heifer.... slapping a palm on a ripemeated hindquarter, there's a prime one." Bloom... a servant no more. Dominating.


And then seemingly out of nowhere :"The grey sunken cunt of the world. "

And THAT is when it strikes me that Bloom has anger at women...or..here is intense anger at Molly coming out? But it's more, too. It's also, I think, that paragraph 2 or 3 above this outburst.

Molly and Leopold have a comfortable equilibrium, sustainable existence. I think they both like the home stability from which they can pursue their trysts. Bloom is sensual, but a slow mover, he's not a just-do-it guy. He can wait on Molly and she can play the diva, but it's an immature, convenient marriage.

Patrice wrote: "...Odysseus' "affair" with Calypso had absolutely no bearing on his love for Penelope...."

Didn't it increase the years before he was free to sail home?

More thoughts/ musings.

I thought that Bloom didn't really want to bring anything back for Molly. I thought that because "He said softly"... (So she wouldn't hear.) And he framed the question as a negative : "You don't want anything for breakfast?" (If he had asked "do you want anything?" And she moaned "mmyeah" He would have had to ask the follow up question. Asking as a negative...and her half asleep..
She just groans -mn.. And Bloom can honestly say he asked her. Because I suspect he might be a little passive-aggressive, that is a theory I hold right now.

The Bloom marriage. I wondered if their problems stemmed from the death of their son. I wondered if there had been previous affairs.

I seemed to me that Joyce was playing on stereotypes. It seemed to me that Joyce wanted to put forward a stereotypical view of Bloom as a Jew. "Hard as nails at a bargain, old Tweedy." Bloom...thinking in money all the time. "Where do they get the money?" Then calculating...mmm... a bob here and there....on the wholesale orders perhaps "...Calculating. .. looking at the angles of the farm north of Jaffa: eight maeks...olives cheaper...pay ten down..." "fifty multiplied by..."

And...since Bloom had thought about how old Tweedy had been farsighted. ..and corned the stamps. .. I wondered whether Bloom stayed in the marriage in part because of the money.

Adelle wrote: "I thought that Bloom didn't really want to bring anything back for Molly. I thought that because "He said softly"... (So she wouldn't hear.) And he framed the question as a negative : "You don't want anything for breakfast?""

But didn't he previously think to himself how Molly never liked to eat anything in the morning? Meaning, no meat and potatoes. But that all she ever wanted was bread and tea. So I took his asking in the negative simply as, he knew what the answer was going to be, but he just wanted to confirm before he left the house. And perhaps she is usually a late sleeper, so he said it softly so as not to wake her fully. I didn't catch any passive-aggressiveness at all.

Patrice wrote: "...What I meant was that it never brought into doubt his great love for Penelope. It was just a 7 year hiatus. lol
And when he returned to Penelope it seemed totally irrelevant...."

Well, Telemachus's youth w/o his father. The empty bed. Odysseus father growing old....

Patrice -- your comments reminded me of this story from elsewhere on ŷ������ boards:

(view spoiler)[

arenicolous

MEANING:
adjective: Living, growing, or burrowing in sand.

ETYMOLOGY:
From Latin harena/arena (sand) + colere (to inhabit).
I wonder if I can use it for people behaving like ostriches. You know, the ones ignoring the obvious, pretending that when they do, it does not exist.

It happened in my marriage. My husband living with another woman when he was in Prague, pretending it was not happening and being very surprised when after 9 years, I asked for a divorce. He still claims he does not understand why I divorced him. We get on and he liked being married to me, God knows why!
Or me, letting him pretend, hoping she will disappear.
We were both " arenicolous"

What do you think? Is that the right usage?

From Lucie Novak. Her blog is here:

Quoted with permission. (Thx, Lucie.)

(hide spoiler)]

Charles wrote: "Adelle wrote: "The way he thinks of women: "His eyes rested on her vigorous hips." (No name, note, although he knows her.) "

Yes, no name. Consider: "His eyes rested on Virginia's vigorous hips." ..."

But...although Bloom was still in interior dialogue mode, still the same paragraph, Bloom named the neighbor man. "Woods his name is."
He says that name to himself. So to me...it still looks as though Bloom is depersonalizing the young woman with the vigorous hips. It just seems to me that Bloom doesn't see her as much other than as a sexual body.

IS she mentioned by name somewhere? Sorry...I didn't see it.

Edit added. If Bloom hadn't named Woods, I would have gone a ways -- not all the way, but a good way -- towards conceding your point. ;-)

Linda wrote: "Adelle wrote: "I thought that Bloom didn't really want to bring anything back for Molly. I thought that because "He said softly"... (So she wouldn't hear.) And he framed the question as a negative ..."

Yes, I can see how it might be read your way, too. That Bloom already knew...so he just went through the motions of asking.

I don't know how all the parts fit yet. Maybe never will. But I see Bloom SO ... domesticated. .. so... solicitousness of Molly...
At least on the surface....oh.
.nice, nice, nice. ..and just how you like it dear and do you want the blind up and let me gather those soiled clothes, etc.

But outside the house...Bloom is a very different man. Even his ..
smile...."interior dialogue " is different outside the house.

Why?

Perhaps it's NOT Molly that he's angry with. I don't know yet. But "the grey sunken cunt of the world, prime sausage. O please Mr. Policeman " Bloom has issues.

Maybe we will find out.

Charles wrote: "Adelle wrote: "The way he thinks of women: "His eyes rested on her vigorous hips." (No name, note, although he knows her.) "

Yes, no name. Consider: "His eyes rested on Virginia's vigorous hips." ..."

Ah...illumination! Thanks Charles :)

Adelle wrote: "I don't know how all the parts fit yet. Maybe never will. But I see Bloom SO ... domesticated. .. so... solicitousness of Molly..."

Doesn't this sound like Odysseus on the island of Calypso? Well, I don't know about solicitous... but domesticated, certainly. That's the whole problem. Odysseus is too comfortable with Calypso and he needs something to shake him up a bit. Or a lot.

Charles wrote: "Adelle wrote: "Charles wrote: I can see there's going to be a problem with Bloom's sexuality."

I guess you see what you want to see and declare it to be the truth.

I'm done.

Definitely Odysseus is too comfortable with Calypso, and definitely Bloom has issues. There's more to come. But Bloom has a lot of humanity about him, too, and Molly, who is never really on stage until the end, is, well... spoiler... wonderful.

Thomas wrote: "Father Zeus…[Odysseus] suffers misery in the island home of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him captive there. He cannot head for home without oared ship or crew to carry him over the sea’s wide back: and men plot to murder his beloved son who is journeying home from sacred Pylos and noble Sparta, where he went seeking news of his father."

So, wait--Stephen is somehow Bloom's son (literally or figuratively)? Am I totally out of bounds here?
I'm wondering why the novel doesn't just start with this section, but that would explain it...

Kathy wrote: "So, wait--Stephen is somehow Bloom's son (literally or figuratively)? ..."

Figuratively. We're not quite there yet, though.

Thomas wrote: "Leopold Bloom makes breakfast, speaks briefly to the cat, and decides to visit the neighborhood butcher for a pork kidney. As he leaves the house he notices that he does not have his house key."

Is Stephen missing a key, too?

I erased my original post because on re-reading over the other posts on this thread I decided I hadn't got it quite right. See following @60

Adelle wrote: "But...although Bloom was still in interior dialogue mode, still the same paragraph, Bloom named the neighbor man. "Woods his name is."
He says that name to himself. So to me...it still looks as though Bloom is depersonalizing the young woman with the vigorous hips. It just seems to me that Bloom doesn't see her as much other than as a sexual body. "

Quite right, upon reflection. I wanted to distinguish lasciviousness from anger. And there is this problem with interior narrration in that Bloom thinks stuff that he for the most part doesn't say out loud. That's Joyce's unflinching attitude toward people as they are, and what got the book prosecuted as obscene.

Kathy wrote: "Thomas wrote: "Leopold Bloom makes breakfast, speaks briefly to the cat, and decides to visit the neighborhood butcher for a pork kidney. As he leaves the house he notices that he does not have his..."

I noticed this as well. Stephen had to give his key to Buck. So neither Stephen nor Bloom can 'go home' now. This looks like it will be an exciting day!