June 1, 2022: The best thing about my security cameras (when they deign to work) is the pleasure I get from learning what prowls outside my house after dark. So far, it’s been nothing sinister. Meet this 3:00 a.m. visitor to my back porch. It’s welcome to drop by any time, even without an invitation.
June 2: This afternoon Ember was cocooned in her elaborate bed-fort, pondering the universe, when she called out to me: “I had an idea: What if they’re not stars? What if they’re just holes poked in the containers so we can breathe?”
Later she wondered if the moon were for extra ventilation.
June 3: Her last day of fourth grade!!
On our walk home from school we pass Flowerland, which always has admirable, timely messages on their billboard, this one in the wake of the Uvalde massacre.
Em brought home a ton of papers and artwork from her desk. Here’s one sample:
June 5: I got permission from Ember’s parental units to keep her an extra week after the end of the semester, to have a little unstructured time following that intense academic schedule. We watched videos, spaced out, played in the backyard, and who-knows-whatall.
June 10 to 12: After negative antigen tests all around, it was time for our long-awaited getaway to Wilseyville with Molly, where we stayed in a “rammed-earth” cottage (thick mud walls) way out in the country, complete with equally mud-encrusted farm creatures.
Our lodging boasted a private swimming hole on the middle fork of the Mokelumne River, about half a mile down a steep trail. Shortly after our arrival, Em and I paid our first visit there, slogging through poison oak and blackberry brambles as the resident Sadie-the-Chocolate-Lab led the way. The pup turned out to be the only one bold enough to brave the frigid water.
The next day the three of us descended to the river again, dogless this time. After dipping the very tips of my toes into the water I quickly threw myself into reverse, opting for warmth, while Molly and Ember waded in and observed baby fish darting hither and yon. Though Em hates having her pic taken, for some reason she decided to photo-bomb her beloved Lulu’s selfie.
Editor’s note two hours after posting…
Having just now received from Lulu some intelligence that I firmly believe is crucial to your full understanding of the scene above, I hereby formally amend the record. Lulu reports that…
[I]t is perhaps worth noting that my “selfie” involved me standing near Ember and loudly saying “Well, I’m gonna take a selfie now, and I sure hope that nobody photobombs it…”
Meanwhile, on terra firma I scrambled around trying without success to find a trail through the woods.
On the drive home, Google Maps took us through foothills and orchards and eventually the Sacramento River Delta, where Ember learned what a levee was because we drove atop one for miles. What GPS unfortunately did not tell us was that there were four drawbridges along the route, one of which caused a 15-minute delay and another a slowdown, and we just missed being stuck behind a third. And another weird GPS thing: on I-5 we drove and drove, and with every mile we advanced down the highway, the later our displayed ETA became, the time ticking up second by second like a New York taxi meter. And we were going the right way, even. Still, 2:45 hours later we were home, unpacking, doing the laundry and then re-packing for Ember’s return to Chico two days hence.
June 15: Yesterday Ember was reunited with her eager family (after yet more negative tests). From our Winters meeting place I, childless now, continued east rather than home, pursuing a rare glimpse of Marianna and TJ.
Tolerant TJ and rusty-voiced, off-key Ginna spent a while out in the backyard singing selections from my Alan Lomax book. Here, we’re melodically asserting that John Hardy, he was a desperate little man who killed him a man in the West Virginia Land…
For me, tomorrow it’s homeward bound for yet another gnarly dentist appointment. Then I’ll have two days to finish planning and packing before rolling south to Kings Canyon (a 5.5-hour drive) for a four-night camping adventure. You’ll be seeing pictures soon, no doubt.
By the way, the report from Chico is that Ember is wildly happy to be home and they’re all having a grand time together. This summer I will both miss her presence and enjoy having only myself to take care of for a while.
“What if they’re not stars? What if they’re just holes poked in the containers so we can breathe?” — Whoa, man. Deep.
WOW, your pig photo came out great! What a nice family.
Glad you’re getting some TJ time and general rest, and glad that Em is happy to be with her Chico family!
I echo M.’s comments, and thoroughly enjoy reading your excellent “log”!!
On re-reading — as I always do — be sure to tell Whitney of Ember’s theory about the universe./