Gamma was sitting in the woods drawing. Alpha was looking at a pond. I watched them both. Then I got restless and walked over towards my wife. A little brown frog jumped out from under some plants at my feet. I crouched down and tried to catch it, to show it to Gamma, but it got away. I put my hat over it, but it wriggled out from under and hopped away between my legs. By the time I turned around it was gone.

Then we saw two blue bugs. They were large and Gamma was afraid to walk past them until we explained that they were fucking and preoccupied. Gamma drew a picture of the pond.

I tried to draw a picture of a hunter’s blind, one of these rickety tower constructions they have here, but it looked wrong until I stopped looking at the paper as I drew. Then it still looked wrong, but more interesting.

I was in a dark, desperate mood all day because of some nightmare I had. Something about a tower.
Nightmares are my favorite dreams, usually, but still.

For breakfast, Gamma and I made waffles with whipped cream and strawberries and raspberries, because it was Mother’s Day.