020406 As Adine and I were divvying up the last zanzi fry and the last fried plantain at African Hut (during WI Indian Issues class with her & Sandy & Rohanna & Robin -- most of “the boys” went to get subs -- how I love socializing with the ladies!), she said an odd thing: “You’re married, right? So we can’t have some kind of bond . . . .” I said, “Of course we can! Married bonds and other bonds are not mutually exclusive” (hearkening back to our terminology from statistics). Sandy agreed, and filled Robin in, who had only caught the end of the convo. I wonder what that was all about? 020506 While telling Meggie her stories tonight, she told me about a time when there was a great storm, and the water came in her room and got all around her bed. And later, Ann comes down and tells me Meggie told her about a time when she was in a fire, and got burned, and her lady Daisy took her to the hospital, and all her brothers and sisters were there, and the doctor gave her white medicine. She said, Someday I’ll take you to my workshop, Mama. I have red soda, and blue soda, and green soda, and silver soda, and, oh yeah, I have brown soda there too. It really hurt, when I got burned all over, Mama. Okay. Wow. It’s truly humbling, to think of the experiences this little traveller has had, and has, and will have. We are so careful to tell her the right kind of stories, to protect her innocence -- and we are right to do so; she is a little girl at this time, after all. And yet -- so seldom do we glimpse the awesome depth of the being whose care and nurturing has been placed, for whatever reason, in our most sacred trust. 021006 Or, to put it another way, Children are the Mothers of Necessity. Because of Megan, stories flow even though I can’t “write.” She wants to hear stories, you by god have to think up stories. Even if they’re completely ridiculous -- it doesn’t matter. And sometimes, you really get a groove going. Like the Bird of Freedom, or my very own Flute Player and the Rain Cloud. Yay. 021706 Quit just THIS MORNING. THIS MORNING, and I’m already feeling dizzy, woozy, hogtied and bereft. What the—