Michaela told me about how when she was little she gave her mother a turtle made of soap for her birthday, having plotted beforehand to make her believe it was a live turtle by hiding it in a box when she came over and offering it beans in water to eat (they sprouted). And before that, breakfast sausage with (not sure but it tasted like) lots of MSG and corn syrup. It made you want to run around the world. At any rate there are little tiny staminate cones on the yews, and little bugs on this outdoor table at San Fran Bakery, and now would be a good time to start gathering for a project of violet jelly. Michaela told me about feeding her ex-step-grandmother’s pet baby bats. Like stepping into a bright airy room where someone was singing strings of clear crisp monosyllables, almost short of breath and almost logical. First moth-sheeting of my life.
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