Chris drew back the curtains on this peaceful scene of the sun rising above a misty horizon, soft greys and a tranquil sea. To think that someone once asked me if it was boring living here with only the sea for a view…

As you can see I was up with the sun…. which probably means that I overslept!

That’s me – the polar bear – or rather, me dressed in my warm polar bear style onesie. And I’m not alone here in the kitchen; I have five loving companions, not four (Yoda came for Christmas and has stayed on), and there is a cat napping somewhere upstairs. I’m having a sleepover at Rosie’s farm and now that the girls have ‘taken the air’ I’m about to go to bed. I know why Yoda is called Yoda – she has a funny little face and she makes odd noises. She’s a heavy breather and I suspect that she snores. I think I’ll shut my door.

It was too short but it was like a breath of fresh air; the house was full of visitors and mirth, and not just because it happened to be Christmas. The sun shone outside and inside – James and Jaimy were home – and now that they have returned to Brighton I’m still basking in the afterglow.

It took a mere £3 to feel extremely good about myself while I read the email pasted below. By the time I had reached the end I had begun to feel that the price was too small. I know, I can always send more!

Dear Sally,

Thank you for your invaluable gift of bringing knowledge to every human around the world.

My name is Lila Tretikov, and I’m the Executive Director of the Wikimedia Foundation. Over the past year, gifts like yours powered our efforts to expand the encyclopedia in 287 languages and to make it more accessible all over the world. We strive most to impact those who would not have access to education otherwise. We bring knowledge to people like Akshaya Iyengar from Solapur, India. Growing up in this small textile manufacturing town, she used Wikipedia as her primary learning source. For students in these areas, where books are scarce but mobile Internet access exists, Wikipedia is instrumental. Akshaya went on to graduate from college in India and now works as a software engineer in the United States. She credits Wikipedia with powering half of her knowledge.

This story is not unique. Our mission is lofty and presents great challenges. Most people who use Wikipedia are surprised to hear it is run by a non-profit organization and funded by your donations. Each year, just enough people donate to keep the sum of all human knowledge available for everyone. Thank you for making this mission possible.

On behalf of nearly half a billion people who read Wikipedia, thousands of volunteer editors, and staff at the Foundation, I thank you for keeping Wikipedia online and ad-free this year.

Thank you,
Lila

Lila Tretikov
Executive Director,
Wikimedia Foundation
donate.wikimedia.org

Hours after his birth,  this new-born foal was found stumbling around by a farmer. The foal had been abandoned by his mother so the farmer took him to the Devon-based Mare and Foal Sanctuary where they cared for him and named him Breeze. One of the staff put a four-foot giant Teddy Bear, they called Buttons, in the stall with Breeze. The foal was instantly attracted to the teddy bear and found it a comforting replacement for his mother. The two are inseparable. The caregivers expect Breeze to be fine, thanks to the farmer who rescued him, and to those who cared enough to take in this little cutie.

“I had a funny dream last night,” Mum says.

“Oh yes, what was it about?” I continue snipping away at her hair with the scissors.

“I was in love with a toyboy,” she chuckles.

“Was he handsome?” I ask, still snip snipping..

“I don’t know. That’s not what I remember…” she trails off.

“Did you make love?” I bring her back.

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

“How old was he?” I ask. (Compared to my ninety-one year old mother a man of eighty could be considered a toyboy.)

“Oh, about twenty,” she delights in telling me.

“A proper toyboy then,” I agree, “and did he mind the difference in your ages?”

“Well,” Mum begins, “that didn’t come into it. He didn’t seem to notice. He just loved me for who I am, and I loved him. I woke up feeling ‘in love’.”

“I wish I had dreams like that,” I say.

I have stopped cutting her hair. I look at my mum’s neck and shoulders – her skin, which is still quite nice, does not betray her age – and I wonder when those shoulders were last kissed. Not for a very long time, I guess, except in her dreams…

I finish the haircut. We hug and kiss goodbye. Obviously, it’s not the same kind of love as in her dream, but I think she knows that she is loved for being exactly who she is.

Yesterday, although sunny, was the coldest day since last winter and I had to have the central heating on in order to make it bearable to paint in my studio. Today it is cold again but there is no sun, in fact, it’s dark and rainy; nevertheless, I have to stay in the studio and prepare a semi-finished painting for tomorrow evening – I’m giving a painting demonstration to Sidmouth Art Group.

It seemed like a good idea five months ago, when I agreed to give the demonstration, but now I’m a bit nervous. I can’t paint a half-way good  picture in two hours – not even with fast drying acrylics – so I have come up with a plan that I trust will be both satisfactory to the art group and not let me down as an artist. I am working on a new painting of Exeter Canal (at the estuary end) and, having completed the sky and background already, I hope to have one side of the painting finished, which would leave me the other side to work on during the demonstration. But before bringing out the three-quarter finished painting, I shall start on a new canvas to show the group how to begin. When I think about thirty amateur artists watching me paint (and having a video camera on me the whole time) I feel quite nerve-racked, however, if I can think of those thirty people as well-wishers and kindred spirits, I shall be alright on the night.

On the subject of kindred spirits, earlier today I came across something I wrote during my visit to Australia last January; somehow, it seems fitting to share it with you.

Kindred Spirits

At last I was over the jetlag and the cold I had caught from the Frenchman who had sat next to me on the plane. I was stood on the corner of Foch Street and West Avenue; just as I was considering which route to take for my walk around my old home town of Wynnum a lady with a small dog had crossed the road and stepped in front of me on the pavement. The lady, who was well into her sixties or more, wore a wide-brimmed white straw sunhat, which gave her a typically Australian appearance.

“Isn’t it beautiful here in the early morning?” I asked.

The lady, somewhat surprised to be addressed by a stranger, stopped and searched my face for something she might recognise. 

“Especially the light,” I added, continuing with a smile that told her I was simply another passerby enjoying the first light.

“And especially after the rain – everything is so crisp and fresh!” responded the lady.

“Yes, for a short while,” I agreed.

“And people miss it by staying in bed,” she laughed.

“But not us,” I observed, laughing with her.

The dog pulled on his lead, urging his mistress to move on, and she fell into line. My eyes followed her broad-brimmed straw hat, crisp and white, in the sunshine. I saw her pause and I sensed she was going to turn around, which she did.

“You have a lovely day now!” she said cheerily.

“You too,” I answered equally cheerily.

Kindred spirits.