July 12, 2026- I heard Hana crying, this evening, so I went down to see what was going on. She was in the crib and wanted to get out-but it was bedtime. Her Daddy was right there, calmly waiting her out. She was excited that I had come in the room, but Papa was not rescuing her from her parents’ rules.

I went for a walk, instead, after saying “Goodnight” to her. Outside, the air was clean and cool. There was a small “rainbar” off to the east, as I walked along Red River Road, through a small section of Hoblitzelle Park, as far as the elementary school where Hana would study, if we stay here that long. (We’re doing fine here, but the kids are always looking for better opportunities-as well they should.)

While Aram was still at Drill, this afternoon, the three of us went to downtown Plano, with Yunhee and I enjoying iced maple lattes and a Cruffin, whilst Hana chilled in her stroller, just taking in the sights and sounds of Lemma Coffee House. After that, we walked over to Bibliobar, the small eclectic bookshop, where I gleaned, and purchased, a story about a little girl looking for home. It will be nice to read to Hana, as she grows.

HANA’S NOTE- Papa is usually indulgent, so I tried to get him to take me out of my crib-but, nothing doing. He backs my Mommy and Daddy up-darn!

YEAR IN REMEMBRANCE- 1964 I was in full puberty in Grade 8-actually, I had been for the previous two years. I was also gawky and had buck teeth, so not really boyfriend material. I made my share of friends though, once over the nervous tics that only put a wedge between me and the rest of the class. Grade 8 came to an end, in a peaceful way. The arsonist was caught, by good old Mr. Casey, after he tried to set fire to Veterans Memorial School, where we had transferred after the East Wing Fire and where Bill had transferred to work as custodian. The firebug was a classmate of ours, mentally ill and a loner. He got some of the help he needed, after that run of destruction.

Grade 9, back on a normal high school schedule, after the reconstruction of the East Wing, was chaotic in other ways. The number of competent teachers we had this year: Two- the English instructor, the venerable Mrs. Adlington and the P.E. teacher, the unconventional, but very effective, Mr. McNeil. The other four need not be mentioned by name. Three were nice enough people-but incompetent. The fourth was just a nasty individual. I got along better with most kids this year.