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There was a family here in Pensacola who we admired and thought we were becoming friends with.

He worked a job he didn’t like much. She homeschooled the four children. Mostly older than ours. Intelligent with piercing gazes and beautifully defined features. They had cool names perhaps after dieties or planets.

She gave some workshops at the food coop. Sprouting was one of them. She and the children would ride their bicycles together.

She came over here one afternoon and uploaded or was it data-dumped the trauma of her family of origin.

She was intense. Like maybe even more intense than us.

One day he put a post on Facebook about how he had not been a good husband; had disrespected her; didn’t deserve, etc… It was courageous but there was at least a shadow of having been bullied and debased into the endeavor.

They moved to Hawaii.

When they came back through town we messaged them and she wrote back that she was purging relationships and only keeping the worthwhile ones and hoped we understood or something like that.

I felt hurt. Rivka was pissed.

Our kids are like a year behind on their workbooks, whatever that means. Not sure if it matters but wondering.

Ashirah occasionally requests attending a non-home school. Usually when resisting doing the studying.

Chris Kraus kept finding her way across my radar. Now reading I Love Dick. Many references to potentially pursue.

• John Slocum is sending over two books on Chaos Theory.

• Still only about 20% through Misner’s Mathematics: a survey of its foundations.

• Still struggling to hear harmonic movement as fluidly as desired.

• Teaching Harmon Syville at a significant discount. He’s fantastic.

• Ashirah is taking piano lessons again. Doing well. Alex, Juliana and the others at Children’s Chorus are fantastic.

I am split ten ways and going for twenty. A tree with branches that reach for its own roots.

Like you.

Later, Ashirah needs food. Rikki’s famous boiled peanuts.

8/07/2024