Yvette George’s wife now, after what looks like it was a cancer battle.

Bald in a baseball cap at a table in a diner with George, looking resolved and perhaps a bit disappointed. She when I knew her in our youth was comfort personified. Not seeking it, but eluding it.

Rivka’s belly is bothering them again. Muscles? Organs? Cysts? Not sure.

It’s been a day.

Took Ashirah and Erin to Weber’s Skate World in Milton yesterday.

Erin rocks a Women Want Me Fish Fear Me cap. Awesome. Her dad’s probably in jail. Last time we saw him he’d showed up at our house drunk and bloody, babbling about some incoherent situation.

Black light and a mono dimensional song playlist. Neon green lightening. Sunshine a distant memory. Arcade games and plastic prizes. Future garbage is garbage now. Monster drinks. Birthday party. The kids who work here are happy and welcoming. The owner is a real lover.

Brought some books. Fundamental Algorithms.

Spring break.

Easter tomorrow. Candy in baskets. Reharmonizing the old hymns for the UU “Flower procession”.

Hope, the off-grid radiant red-head of Hope and Cody, introduced an herbalist today, Monique. We had a group hug. Could use more of that. Rivka’s not a hugger. Not that we don’t hug. Monique and Hope recommend regular use of wormwood, black walnut hull and dandelion root to kill parasites. People don’t realize cancer is–most cancer, Hope interjects–yeah, most cancer is parasitic.

Monique a fellow keto practitioner. Reminds of Marge Magenheimer. The magnetism of humble wisdom.

Jesus dies for somebody’s sins…