Memories Pt. 7

Summer afternoon, in the county.

I imagine we got up late, but I could be wrong. We definitely made breakfast, eggs, veggie links, special potatoes fried for a long time in garlic and lots of seasonings, a cup of coffee from the tiny little coffee pot. Everything shared, the way it is supposed to be.

Dishes done and drying. Kitchen clean. Music coming from an ipod by way of your tivoli. Whose? Not sure, at this point all the music blends together, so much shared that we wouldn't be able to tell even if we wanted to.

Lazy day, muffled conversations come from other trailers. Sometimes the calm is shattered by an atv, but not too often.

Sudoku in my hand, crossword in your's. I do sudoku, not 'cause I love it, but because of the way it accesses my brain. Doing the puzzle isn't hard. It is just a matter of following the steps. There isn't too much thought and definitely not hard work. It lets me be active but also free.

Free to listen to you. You are still learning the tricks; the common clues to crosswords. Every once in a while you ask for help and I switch left brain, right brain and back again. Sudoku lets me do that.

I love watching you figure out your crossword. I could watch it all day. You are cute and determined. Writing your ideas down next to the clues until you are sure.

Later we'd do them together. You always write. I just help. Cuddled up on the couch, in a cafe knees pressed together, lying on a hotel bed, relaxing on the beach, jammed into one half of the trailer's dinette. Heads pressed together

Chicago trains (3)

A tower in Pisa does it (5)

Japanese metropolis (5)

I still find them when going through the house. Half done, almost finished, barely started. Rolled up crosswords with scribbles and notes.

Pieces of you.

Efforts and thoughts.

Forever etched on yellowing newsprint.