a new day

It's Saturday. A new day. I've phoned New Zealand. I've done the dishes from all that baking (Yes!) I've put a brand new table cloth on to brighten the room (3 Euros at the market on Wednesday). I've put my paints away for a few days. Until you open the cupboards my studio looks like a kitchen-living room again. (Visitors looking for food will be very confused!)

Now I am going out to spend some time with the daughter of a German soldier killed in Cassino when she was a toddler. She has bought a house in Aquino, not too far from here. At lunch will also be the son of a woman who was born in a cave above the town of Veroli as bombers flew over that town. Here, I cannot escape the war.

On my car window is a sticker that says:

Arbeit fùr den Freiden
Travail pour la Paix
Work for peace
Werk de vrede
Lavoro per la pace
Pa6ota bo nmr mnpa
Praca dla pokoju
(Please excuse the lack of correct lettering in other languages)

The sticker was given to me by a German veteran soldier, at the German Cemetery at Caira where 20,000 young men lie buried.

The printed sticker is sponsored by Volksbund.
I am often asked if I am German or Polish. And it has just occurred to me that I drive a VW Polo.