dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Monday, June 24, 2013

beach day

This morning we planted three trees at my mom's work, two apple and a plum.  I dug holes, drove stakes into the ground with a post driver, and otherwise helped.  It took a long time.

Then we went to the beach.  We ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, something I used to hate and now like okay.  We ate chips, grapes, red vines.  The kids, my mom, and Ming built a huge sand castle.  I wrote.  Ming and I walked on the beach with the youngest of the children.  The kid picked up some kelp and was calling it his pen.  He wrote a long line. 

Then the kids were getting snow cones, and there were a bunch of young people speaking another language in front of us.  We wondered where they were from, and I asked, "Excuse me?  What country are you from?"  Someone answered me, "Russia."  Then I didn't know what to say. 

After the beach we went back to my mom's work and staked the trees.  Ming learned online that trees really shouldn't be staked unless they're in certain circumstances.  But we were expected to stake them, so we did. 

I am sunburnt, eating another sandwich for dinner, in need of a shower.  They're playing badminton without a net in the backyard, and I am done for the day. 


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