Day 54

Tree and sky on the way to school this morning. 

I went out to lunch with my friend Mary in Davis Square in Cambridge, to Diva, a wonderful Indian restaurant.  We talked about sad and happy things, ate delicious food, drank iced water and hot tea, laughed and smiled and were serious.  She is my oldest American friend.  I met her the first summer we spent here, when we were lost lambs in a foreign land.  The map in my head has a road which goes straight to her house. She is very dear to my heart.
 The air was cold and nippy through our coats.  It felt as though snow was imminent all day, but there were only a few large drops of rain at about 11 this morning.  Looking out of the windows at Starbucks, where we went for coffee, I was bombarded by the number of people, people walking the street, standing in alleyways, crowds in the coffeeshop, in cars, people spilling out everywhere.  I felt so lucky to live in a less crowded town, where there are only 3000 people, where you can see the sky and trees wherever you look, where you are close to the sea with its deserted winter beaches, where you can smell the weather.

I am too tired to draw tonight, and Tim pointed out that I am not cheating when I use a photograph, as my resolution was to "produce" a self-portrait every day.  So (unapologetically) here I am with Jess, this time last year, the mist above her head is her warm breath in the cold air.  My darling daughters, both so far away.  At least technology allows us to communicate relatively easily.  In my grandpa's diary of 1917, he speaks of going down to the docks in Cape Town to meet the mail-ship from England, which probably arrived every three or four weeks, to see if there were any letters from my future grandmother, then his betrothed, so desperate was he for news of her.