December 22, 2018

Rose and ran at the Y, determined to get everything back. It was snowing when I went out into the morning dark. Baked fudge pie for Jack’s party. Rehearsal of the Vivaldi with strings. Bought Maud her own litter box, to see if that will solve our recent bathroom problems. Giant Mexican lunch annihilated me. Discovered the “If You Grew Up in Ellet” Facebook page, which featured a video of a car driving down Goodview to Pilgrim to East Park, part of the route I walked to school for five years. Someone asked “Whatever happened to Jeff Oxley?” something I have wondered about too. We played under the big strange tree in his yard. He invited me to a birthday party where we ate at Burger King and then saw Swiss Family Robinson. I looked over my shoulder the whole time, thinking his inviting me was a joke, because I treated him so badly most of the time. He locked me in his toolshed once, and I determined to beat it to pieces if he didn’t let me out. His grandfather heard the din and let me out, scolding me rather than Jeff for the event. He followed me to Boy Scouts. A Twitter feed insists I have an interest in the Iowa Hawkeyes. Daniel wants me to paint him a picture of wilderness to look at in his depressing accountant’s cubicle.