TIm's Birthday

The sky was impressionist-painting clear as I took the 25 minute walk to Tim’s fifth birthday party. Yes I could have borrowed Barbara’s car, but why pollute the air and miss the small details. Water is in the river for the first time since spring, so clear that I could see the individual blades of grass and each pebble. Purple and pink petals swirled through the air as the trees jumped in the high winds.

Tim is RB2’s son. RB2 is the brother I always wanted and long-time friend who married Sylvie, the Argelès girl next door, after he bought a house in this village. Their new home is just outside the village. Off their terrace is a swimming pool and beyond that are the Pyrenees, one of which is topped with a medieval tour used by the Spanish, French, Catalans and Majorcans all to defend themselves against the other. To the left is an olive orchard heavy with fruit. Because the wind has removed the dust from the air, the scenery sparkled.

Inside it was good to see RB2’s mother, visiting from Holland, Sylvie’s sister, brother and misc. Tim cousins that I have met on the many other events we've shared. The languages spoken were French, English, Dutch and Spanish in order of use.

Sylvie’s mother had made a Spanish salad of fish, potatoes, olives, tomatoes and eggs to go with the barbecue. Champagne (including a non-alcoholic for the kids) toasted the birthday boy. He is a lovely little boy, who has been taught to have good manners but it doesn’t stop the natural liveliness that a five year old should have.

His cousin Margerie, only slightly older than Tim, has Diabetes 1. Without any pomp at all she measured her blood sugar and injected herself with insulin in the same way another child would brush their teeth.

Because I had writing to do, I was the first one to leave. When Sylvie offered a doggie bag, I had no problems accepting.