Am feeling very young, green, tree-hugger-hummanitarian-ish. Sitting here, having just come back from high school on public transportation, am eating my yummy granola (home-made in a tiny toaster oven), thinking about the pickled herring I have in my cupboard (wondering how i got to like sardines), and preparing to walk over to the to the Maison Paul-Triquet where I will chat with elderly retired miltery gentlemen in French, then afterwards to a prayer meeting at the University of Laval and dinner. My heart is aching for Chimborazo and I sometimes lie awake at night listening to Radio Canada and wonder why in the world I want to learn french... but then I remember that `cet ane sabatique` (a phrase immediately understood here in Canada) is in part about beauty and in part about practice. Beauty in the experiance, the language, the places. Practice in the hospital, the in Sierra teaching, and working on languages that I don`t know well and might be usefull for me later in life. I`m still thinking of going back home (currently Ecaudor) early (Yippee - Bonnie I may see you for more than a daY!). But I will miss the lovely dedicared Eglise Reforme de St. Marcand my dear spunky Familie Drouin!!