Day 33

Woke up early early to make a packed lunch for Matthew who was going on an AP Bio field trip to a lab in  Boston.  Then left for school at 6.30, drove through frozen wastes until the sun came up and warmed my eyes.  I felt such sadness on the way to school for my son with a newly broken heart.  We are so attuned to our childrens' highs and lows, and not just when they are little things who can be drawn on to your lap and cuddled back to happiness.  When they are great big beautiful boys (and girls) it is a lot harder to comfort them.  On Sunday all three of us ended up lying on Matt's bed with him and then watching an episode of "The Mighty Boosh" (the peculiar humour of which is bewildering) on his little laptop to cheer him up. 

This is the dancing tree from the other side, and Molly (looking for a ball, of course).

Today, talking to all these different children at my school, from so many places, made me consider again the fact of being forever foreign in a foreign land.  It is at once pleasant, (you can criticize the country without being a part of the cause of what you are criticizing, feeling even slightly superior at times), and unpleasant (never being at home again, never having those old old friends with shared histories, never being at ease in familiarity).   But the experience also makes you more tolerant of people, kinder, I think.

Hence this self-portrait.