Coffee: Drip from Mama Dip’s; my coffee pot broke, so no go on the bag of beans I bought yesterday; the drip made up for it; it was mellow, average, acceptably watered down.
I met up with my cousin who I haven’t seen since I was seven. He came with his wife and his six-year-old daughter. His daughter, Ruby – also my cousin – had the energy of riding lawnmowers in monsoon season. She twisted and twirled. After lunch, we went to an art museum and she drew pictures of the pictures. They were good. Then she asked what she should draw next and I suggested a grumpy pineapple. It was also good.
I rarely feel like I have a family. Well, an extended one anyway. I suppose I felt that way today but the feeling is so rare, so nebulous, that I don’t have the words yet for it. Ruby said she didn’t want to leave because we’d never see each other again. I said “We will, family’s family.” I’ll keep thinking on what I meant by that.
Currently Reading: LaRose, Louise Erdrich
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“A dog reflects the family life. Whoever saw a frisky dog in a gloomy family, or a sad dog in a happy one? Snarling people have snarling dogs, dangerous people have dangerous ones.” – Arthur Conan Doyle