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Holy guacamole, Batman

August 16, 2018

Whatever I was planning to write about today must be postponed. Something quite extraordinary must replace it.

I am overwhelmed by the kindness and generosity of others.

After I put my begging bowl out the other day, a dear friend in England not only made a very generous donation, but also offered me some future, semi-sporadic work. So the prospect of prosecco and possibly a haircut is no longer unimaginable.

Another friend in Vancouver also made a very kind donation.

And then there’s what happened last night.

I came home from a rehearsal to find an envelope stuck in my door. There was no name on the envelope, but, as it was stuck in my door, I could only presume it was intended for me. So I opened it. No card or note inside to establish provenance. What the envelope did contain was several $50 bills. I was and still am completely gobsmacked.

As far as I know there are only two people on the island who follow my blog. Let me put that another way: I only know of two people on the island who follow the blog. One was an unlikely, but not entirely impossible candidate. I rang him. Nope, not him. I rang the other friend, knowing she could not possibly be the donor (not least because she was also at the rehearsal), simply to say, “Oh, my god, you will never believe what just happened.” No surprise that she was also astonished.

I have no idea what names are on the list of my followers. (I did just try to figure this out, but the instructions offered by WordPress did not work, due to the lack of the link I was supposed to click.)

So it seems I have an anonymous benefactor. In a way this seems quite romantic, makes me feel like Mozart or Manet or some other earlier century artiste.

It is also, I confess, a bit creepy. Who? Who? Who?

This cannot be the kindness of strangers. Whoever my benefactor is knows me, knows where I live, knows the back door is actually the front door. He or she has been a guest in my house. Who on earth do I know on the island who likes me and/or my work enough to stuff $50 bills into an envelope? Who do I know who could afford to do so?

I’m not saying my inability to answer these questions will drive me mad. It won’t. But it will disturb me, mainly because, dear benefactor, I would very much like to thank you for your unexpected and rather astonishing generosity. So, dear patron, if you are reading this, please tell me who you are.

And, if you won’t, let me say THANK YOU! Thank you so very, very much.


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