July 11, 1999

Wake to Daniel walking outside my window. He's hungover. "Wanna go to Cumbie's for coffee?" (Doesn't he know by now I'd go anywhere with him?) We listen to the haunting voice of an Indonesian singer in the car and enjoy the sun and cool breeze through the sun roof of the Grand Prix. Back at Juicey's trailer, we walk in Dad's garden, sip our coffees on the steps. Sip more coffee with Juicey and B*U*D.

We go to Fernald Shores in the afternoon...a beautiful, magical lake with the breeze kicking up a chop...trails all through the woods with secret little spots for contemplation. Serene.

Daniel and B*U*D in tank tops at last.

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A German shepherd chooses Juicey to shake off on. Time to move on.

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We go into Rochester for our annual 103 Restaurant SLC Gang feast. Loud Yankee woman in the booth behind us. I order the Chicken Primavera, Daniel the Chicken Mediterranean, Juicey the Cajun Beef Tips, B*U*D the Roast Pork...way too much food. Our take-out trays are stacked high. Daniel spills sauce on his shirt and changes in the parking lot. We make arrangements with Daniel to drive up one afternoon this week and wave to him long after he is out of sight.

Back at the trailer. I call RD to wish him a happy birthday.

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Band practice. Five of the band member's kids pop bubble wrap in the yard. Practicing dads are oblivious. Juicey and B*U*D ask Al to not let them bring their kids to practice again.

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