Sunday, April 8
Kitchen table, 10:30
There has been a national shortage of eggs for the past few weeks. Prisma and other shops have been completely empty. Yesterday afternoon, during her shopping expedition, Irma managed to find three boxes.
As a result, yesterday evening Irma and Auo sat and painted boiled eggs for the traditional Easter table. Now, at breakfast time, here they are, alongside some of the branches we collected.
We will spend the afternoon at Kamppi where I will try to repair the sound on Irma’s mother’s computer to discover that her brother has turned into into a dual-boot computer and removed all the administrator accounts except one he created for himself. I decide that this means that he has taken on full responsibility for maintaining the computer and turn my attention to something else.
Later we watch more stupid television, including the amazing but dull story of Donor 150 and the tribe of children his sperm produced. He is a self-proclaimed beach bum in Venice California, and they are an odd tribe of eager teenagers armed with flowcharts and Google.