Day 105

Matthew coming in from sailing practice this evening, 3rd from the bow.  They arrive on shore, some freezing, like Matt, the others warm under their drysuits, because they have worn the correct attire for a cold day on the ocean!  How lucky, to be able to sail as a school sport!

I didn't run today because I had to go to school, so just two little walks with Molly, one in the early morning to collect lovely juicy green grass for the piggie, and another in the early evening to replenish the bees' jar of sugar syrup.

I walk through the forest holding the heavy jar of light golden liquid in both hands, like a servant bearing a precious gift for the Honey Goddess.

I smile as I notice all the molehills in the dirt road near the beehives, popping up to see the spring.  Some people hate moles with great passion, but I like them because we found one in the bath in the outside bathroom in Cross Street once.  Emma discovered the poor thing, a beautiful shiny little Golden Mole, and Jess and Emma and I built it a ramp and then a passageway leading to the garden so that it could escape.  It looked very happy to be able to leave its bewildering prison.

My reason for being at school was to attend several presentations by a group of cartoonists who are members of Cartoonists for Peace, begun by Plantu.  An amazing Israeli named Uri Fink, who does absolutely brilliant work, a Palestinian named Khalil Abu Al Arafeh, who churned out wonderful caricatures of students in the audience and then proudly handed them all out to the previously oblivious models!  And then there was Plantu, who has been a political cartoonist in France for many years, recently having his 15 000th cartoon published!  He talked about his life and drew pictures illustrating his story.  (I remember Emma doing this when she was little, starting at one point on the page and then telling a long story and drawing, drawing, until she had filled the whole page with it.)  And it was poetic, how cartooning saved his life.  He didn't speak for a long time when he was a child, but only drew images.  For someone who took so long to speak, he surely has a lot to say now!

After all the presentations, we had lunch together, and Monsieur Plantu sat next to me!  My french had been stretched to its limit all morning, but this was nearly breaking point.  When I drove home a bit later I actually had a headache from concentrating so hard for so long!  It must be very good for my old brain, to be so challenged!

My portrait tonight is of a tree in full bloom which I noticed today next to the churchyard.  The sky had wisps of white which seemed to emanate from the blossoms themselves.