From a conversation between me and Pedro, my 9-year-old neighbor’s friend.

(Greystone porch, Logan Square, around 6 p.m. R is sitting on the right-hand ledge of the front porch, and Pedro is fooling around on the other ledge. He’s wearing plaid pajama pants and canvas slip-ons.)

P: I can climb all the way up to the porch from down here. (Climbing iron fence)

R: Be careful!

P: Why do you keep saying that?

R: Because, UHHH, the fence has big spikes on it, and it’s a long fall, and if you made a mistake and fell you would get hurt and I would get upset…and your mom, and your dad would be upset, and your sister, and Frankie…

P: (Hauling himself over the side of the porch) Frankie would!

R: Yeah, of course he would! Wouldn’t you be upset if Frankie got hurt?

P: (Scooting down ledge, swinging his legs over) I’d be upset with whoever pushed him!

Nasturtium, 6/24/2008

looking in

The other day I picked a bunch of nasturtium and Swiss chard and gave it to my neighbor S, giving him a little advice about how to use it.

In other news, possibly related, possibly not, I’ve been noticing that lately, when I go to retrieve my laundry from the dryer, I’ve been finding it on top of the machine, neatly folded. I’m pretty sure it’s S.

More photos.

Jarvis. Pitchfork. Yes.

The first minute of Jarvis Cocker performing “Black Magic” at Pitchfork 2008.

Son

It’s looking like Carol’s son, age 12, will be staying in Minnesota with a couple we found there who wants to take care of him. They are well-off and kind and active and have a nice house near a lake with good schools and a skate park nearby. They also have older sons, so they’ve been to that show, as it were. And he’ll have brothers, which is great.

After one of the neighbors found out that he was going to be living there, they rounded up all the neighborhood kids at once and showed up at the house to meet him, sort of an impromptu getting-to-know-you party. I think the attention did him good. He made friends with a 13-year-old boy right away.

He hadn’t had much to say about his mom since it all went down. But after a few days of living with this couple, he showed up at their room in the night, tapped on the door, and told them that he missed his mom. He cried and talked, for the first time. They told him he could come and talk whenever he felt that way. I’m so grateful to know that he’s capable of attaching like that, that everything he’s been through hasn’t left him to fiercely independent at too young an age, as the adult sphere of his world has–at times–been so dark and frightening, here today, gone tomorrow. It would have been easy for him to turn out differently. But he hasn’t.

Carol

My aunt Carol died in her sleep last weekend. My cousin is an orphan.