Parts of these things from this drizzly murky sleepy day could be used somehow. Our agenda: Breakfast—Train to Forest Park—Walk in Forest Park; picnic—Toy store in Sellwood—read—play games—drink wine. What was was what was needed. December 10th. She held my hand and rinsed my bucket, rubbed my feet, told me a story of a person, a dinosaur and a penguin, bought me grapes, bananas, pretzels, checked out videos, read “James and the Giant Peach” to me, and left an amazing gift on my door while I was tossing and being trained by soft visible voices in the elaborate and improvisational discipline of conceiving and fulfilling various geometrical diagrams, and wondering if I dared sit up to drink water. I am wearing her oatmealy hoodie sweater. The water going nowhere.
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