Molly and I ran 2.28 miles (3.7km) in the morning meadow, with the sun getting hotter and hotter. Molly actually lay down at certain points to rest and then cut across to meet me, she was so tired. "Oh my god, are you seriously going down that road AGAIN?" and she would wait at the top until I turned around and came back up.
Last night I went to the Baccalaureate at the boys' school, because Nick sang in the a cappella group as part of the entertainment. I love these kinds of traditions. It is saying goodbye to the seniors, a little ceremony before the actual graduation. It involved a couple of speeches from the students and one staff member, a few musical numbers by various students in the school, a slide show showing all the seniors as chubby babies and gawky little kids, demonstrating how far they had come in the world, and lastly a candle-lighting ceremony and procession outside. Just all beautifully done.
The seniors choose the speaker, and she was actually an administrative assistant at the school. She gave such a wonderful heartfelt talk, using analogies to urge them to be themselves, not to conform, to listen to their inner voices, and never to let anyone make them feel unwelcome, because no one has the right to do that.
I loved that, because I had volunteered (again, foolishly) to help with the setup of the cafetaria with refreshments etc for afterwards. So I dutifully arrived at 4 o'clock with my tray of brownies, and then asked if anything needed to be done. I broke open big packs of bottled water and chucked them in coolers, then broke open ice packets and threw them on to the bottled water, then recycled all the cardboard because the school is big on recycling, they actually won an award for the greenest school partly because of their recycling programme. Then I asked the little group of 4 or 5 women standing there if anyone needed more help. I was told that the only thing needed was the punch and someone had gone to buy ingredients. So I wasn't needed anymore, but thanks anyway.
The women who do this kind of thing are very rich and live in the wealthy town of the two town region. They were the "mean girls" when they were at school. The are all perfectly coiffed, perfectly blonde, with perfectly ironed pink capri pants and tanned ankles, and the rest of their clothing, perfectly complementary coloured pastel shades, even down to their shoes.
And here I am, the riffraff from the poorer of the two towns, in my brown cargo pants and my purple top, my old black flip-flops which belonged to Jess and have seen better days. And I'm sure they all think I smoke pot or something, but I know that I am just too alternative for them ever to be my friends. So they made me feel unwelcome, but I didn't let it get me down, just walked out into the beautiful late afternoon light and admired all the new additions to the school grounds, fully formed trees, and grass seed all around, all starting to look lovely.
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