My reading of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe to Caroline's classmates continues to be one of the great highlights of my week. It's wonderful to receive such a warm reception and to be listened to with spellbound expressions of rapture.
Today I brought the students a sample of Turkish delight in the form of a chocolate bar I used to love as a child...they pronounced it delicious and wondered aloud if I'd enchanted it as the White Witch did...a reference to the story which delighted me to no end.
I also asked a student who happens to be from England how she would rate my British accent on a scale from one to ten, ten being on par with Her Royal Majesty, the Queen. She thought a moment and said seven.
Seven, dear reader! Seven!
I would have been delighted with a four.
One of the loveliest developments to occur as a result of these weekly reading sessions: the students are checking out every available book by Roald Dahl and C.S. Lewis from the library! Many of them had never heard of either author before we started reading together and now they are ambushing the school librarian with requests for more.
When I think of the things which make me deeply happy, this thought comes to mind.
Something else which was lovely: we had a friend stay with us overnight, an American who married one of my childhood friends and now lives in my hometown. Whenever I see him, I feel our lives somehow overlapped and exchanged tracks, or something to that effect.
Anyway, he showed me the new Canadian currency and it practically boggled my mind! So pretty! And so cool!
Oh, Canada...you'll never know how much I love you.
I also wanted to let you know the legend of the gigantic blue bee lives on! I see them everywhere out in the desert these days, like majestic, gleaming drones.
I adore them because I think they like to show off a little. They hover around, flexing their muscles, enjoying the way I stare.
And finally, Sherlock. Thank you for sharing my amazed delight in the development of his new leg. Recently my husband asked if I was going to turn into that bug lady, a sort of teasing question which I'll assume did not carry a genuine note of concern.
But in case anyone here wonders along the same lines, let me try to explain. If I am that bug lady, then I've always been one. I've always wondered, crouched, and observed. But I am also self aware. I do get of all the interests to be had in this world, an interest in bugs may be considered rather marginal, even more so to carry on imaginary conversations with them.
Still, such things amuse me. They make me happy. They are a small, secret delight I keep mainly to myself yet rattle on about from time to time here on this blog.
Beyond that, something else I love about Sherlock: he's dependable. Even though I like to pretend otherwise, I know he's a creature who adheres to instinct which is constant, steady, and true. He eats when he is hungry, for example, not because he's depressed. He hangs upside down, he grooms himself, he awaits a cricket to catch his attention. And while I can never figure out exactly when he's planning to molt, I do know he WILL molt. He won't change his mind and decide he's not in the mood to do it.
Something about such consistency in this changing, mercurial world calms me. I never have to wonder if Sherlock likes me or not. He doesn't like me and never will. It's not even a matter of like. It's not a matter of whim or caprice. It's just a set of instincts, rhythmic and predictable, beautifully fixed.
It gives me something to count on. It's something of a relief.