Day 116

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Lily and Molly cross tails.


I am so tired tonight.  The first day of school after vacation is always tough.  I seem to have been so busy helping children all day. 


At 3.25, as school ends, the few students that make up my upper school classes arrive for a two hour session, until 5.30.  I feel so sorry for them some days, but generally they enjoy this time because it is so different from the rigid academic structure they have been subjected to all day. 


It occurred to me this afternoon that I have the entire cast of Winnie the Pooh in my artroom on Monday afternoons.  First in is Christopher Robin, blond-haired, bringing snacks.  He is creative and self-assured.  Next comes Piglet, very sweet and fairly cheerful, but also quite innocent and scared of the big bad world out beyond her protected circle.  Then there is Eeyore, wearing his motorbike-riding gear, his Easy Rider swagger, with a typical angst-ridden 17-year old's pessimistic view of the world.  Oh well, perhaps there are two Eeyores, as in walks the truly gifted artist with a future at Pixar, although he will only believe in his talent when something like that really happens.  Here comes Rabbit, who sometimes has her friends and relations joining her to "work on their art", but really to skip 'etude' and to gossip and giggle.  And finally, crashing into the room in his mini-tornado of pent-up energy, late as usual, is Tigger, cheerful and curious and immediately engaging each member of the class in his jokey crazyiness! 


And what about Winnie-the-Pooh, you ask?  Well, perhaps, as Matthew pointed out when I told him this story on our way home after I had picked him up all cold and frozen from sailing, perhaps Winnie-the-Pooh is me!  I certainly love honey, but hope that I am not a "bear of little brain".


I remember when the girls were little, and then again when the boys were little, I read them stories at night, and whenever I read the A.A. Milne books, I would sometimes be incapacitated with laughter at various hilarious points in the book, and often they would gaze at me rolling around on the floor in wonder, and then little by little their faces would fill with smiles and soon we would all be laughing uproariously, although I think they were mostly laughing at me.


So here we all are in the art room this afternoon.