I am returned to my family for a period of twenty-five hours, for parade lunches and the second-to-last row at the movie theater and raw oysters and belated birthday pies for deserving fathers.

There is something so nice about sitting awhile with the majority of one’s immediate family, sipping wine and listening to 700 Hobo Names while others peer at maps, read DIY kefir packets, play ancient versions of some Pokemon video game. We are missing Erin, of course, and whichever form her idleness might take.

Tomorrow there will be another drive, ice wind will blow the car from one end of the state into its center, but for tonight we are slugging in the manner best accomplished by those who are Quinns.



About bearicaquinn

Smallish, smushy in the sad parts, certainly destined for cat-lady-dom. Enjoys boats, bikes, black coffee, pug faces, sourdough bread, the morning when you have slept long enough, beards, mountainsides, art, rooftops, etc. Will continue to live in things that are interestingly shaped. So octopus.
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