Sunday, January 29
The three of us have a slow and pleasant day.
Naa and Irma went to the Iitilla outIet while I vacuum cleaned. We did household chores, visited Irma’s father, and came home.
I wonder where Naa has gone and wander around the house. I look in her room and notice that, in the dusk, it has become a silent world of reflections. Everything seems to reflect everything else.
Soon Naa will go home and, for the second day running, I will watch a squirrel squeezing into a bird feeder. The squirrel lives in the carport so I assume that it gets plenty of practice.