Thinking about how strong emotions can be – almost unbearable at times, and for some people, perhaps just plain unbearable – and then thinking about how small we are in the world, I can snatch a glimpse of how powerful energy is. Sometimes emotion feels like the whole universe, as if there is nothing but feeling everywhere. And all of us like that together . . . well, gee.

Thursday we go to Kingman to put flowers on my father’s grave for Memorial Day. The we is my mother and I; this is our ninth year. To tell the truth, I would prefer to go alone – to buckle the pot in the backseat and just drive down by myself. I think my mother goes out of duty, kind of like notching each trip on a tree. We get there; we put the flowers out; I take pictures; she says well no need to stay; we leave.

I’d like to stay awhile, by myself, free to cry.

LettuceHead. Yes, the name just came to me. But LettuceHead is a real person; I have heard about her and I’m fairly certain I have passed by her in a doorway as I went out and she came in. I want to blurt out my opinion of her, but that would be bad, both the blurting and the opinion. So I won’t. But this can be pulled out of me, given the way she treats a very nice lady: LettuceHead . . . is . . . a . . . jerk. Fortunately she doesn’t live in this state, or I would be so tempted to make cole slaw out of her. Ah, but then, I should call her CabbageHead.