dead holidays. thoughts luster like mussels on driftstump and give no word. lady thought copp a girl and old. i said he's neither, just looks old, like me. they think he's twice his age and they think i'm seventy. i guess we've lived anyway, though i feel like i haven't, have just gotten old before i had a chance, or blew it. something else i was gonna say. oh, i guess it wasn't important, like we only remember important things. i forgot what i was going to say, a string of things. anyway barb is coming home and we are glad and i'm worried about the fish.