Day 175

The monster of the dee-ee-eeep!

Molly-the-dog on the hot hot hot Midsummer Day today, (90F, 32C, 40% humidity), after running 3.25km with me.  Although she did cheat, flopping down in the shade of the big old oak at the beginning of Heartbreak Hill each circuit, then watching for me to come all the way around the meadow, then happily loping across the ploughed field and falling into step behind me, pretending she had been there all the time!  But I knew, because I couldn't hear that pant pant pant behind me, now could I?

I was wet with perspiration, red-faced, with my heart singing in my ears when we arrived home, breathing noisily.  Molly flopped down on the cool tiled floor and panted the staccato of the aria Der Holle Rache from The Magic Flute

Last night was St John's Eve, who is, I read today, the patron saint of beekeepers, although when I looked on the Catholic site, apparently St Ambrose and St Bernard of Clairvaux are the real patron saints of beekeeping.

There are literally thousands of saints, and each one assigned to be the patron of someone, like St Felicity, the patron saint of Barren Women, who was martyred by being thrown by a cow and then pierced by the sword of a gladiator in 203 A.D.  St Jude Thaddeus is the patron saint of Desperate Situations.  The patron saint of Stomach Disorders is St Timothy.  My favourite is St Francis of Assisi, the patron saint of animals and ecology. 

I am also partial to St John, or John the Baptist.  I fell in love with Rodin's statue of him, and when I met Tim he looked just like that, and he was a baptist when he was young.  So I have my very own John the Baptist!

I love the whole idea of water being such a symbol for John the Baptist.  There are water festivals all over Catholic South America, decorations of fountains and wells, and St John presides over all this magical water.

Der Holle Rache - The queen of the night.