Kate
They left yesterday morning, all three cars, with the usual shouting about swim…
saved Jul 9, 2023 20:00date Jul 9, 2023
5linked records
2named, not linked
2questions
journal-2023-07-09
What it says
They left yesterday morning, all three cars, with the usual shouting about swimsuits left on the line, and everyone hugged everyone. Kate and David stood by his car for ten minutes talking, which I watched from the kitchen window.
R. and I sat on the porch last night and again this morning and have decided three things. I telephoned each of them this afternoon, oldest first, and said the same words to each, so that there can be no comparing of versions.
One. The cabin will not be rented. Not to strangers, not through a website, not for one week, as long as either of us is alive. David's arithmetic is correct and is not the point. R. said it better than I did: "It isn't an asset. It's where we are." We can afford it. If the day comes when we cannot, we will say so.
Two. Beginning next summer, each of the three families has a week here of its own, besides the Fourth, with nobody else's children in it and the two of us either out of the way or gone home, as they like. Each week is to be claimed by March 1. First choice goes in turn: Kate in 2024, because she comes farthest, then David in 2025, then Ellen, and round again. I will keep the calendar. Ellen said, "Of course you will."
Three. The question nobody asked on Wednesday, what becomes of it afterward, is ours to answer and not theirs to settle among themselves on a porch. We have an appointment with Rebecca Stannard in the fall and will put it on paper properly. I told each of them only that it will be written down and that they will not have to guess.
David was quiet, and then said he had only been trying to help. I said I knew that, and that his father had read every line of the spreadsheet and found one error, in the propane. He laughed. Kate cried a little and said she had been a brat. Ellen asked whether her week could be the last one in July.
What I keep thinking about is R. at the cleaning bench in the dark with the hose running and no fish. He does not hold it against them. He said this morning, "They're allowed to have opinions. They're not allowed to have the cabin yet."
The loons have one chick this year.
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| Date | 2023-07-09 20:00 |
|---|
Linked to
5 records, 2 more namedRay
David Ostrander
Ellen Sievert
The cabin, Skein Lake
Named in the text, not linked
Dave Moen
Rebecca Stannard
→ the link goes from this record; ← it comes from the other one. These are the edges the build gives the app. A name in the text is only a match on the words and is never treated as a link.
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Questions that use it
2
q031 What did we decide about the cabin?
q032 Whose turn is it to choose their cabin week first next summer?
In the app
missing
From the app's own code (viewer/app_export.sh): Not made yet: run viewer/app_export.sh retired-couple.
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The graph nodes the build makes for it: the record, and its phones, emails, addresses, pictures and files.
{
"$type": "n_type_journal_entry",
"id": "n_journal_2023_07_09",
"createdAt": "1688932800000",
"date": "2023-07-09T20:00:00.000Z",
"body": "They left yesterday morning, all three cars, with the usual shouting about swimsuits left on the line, and everyone hugged everyone. Kate and David stood by his car for ten minutes talking, which I watched from the kitchen window.\n\nR. and I sat on the porch last night and again this morning and have decided three things. I telephoned each of them this afternoon, oldest first, and said the same words to each, so that there can be no comparing of versions.\n\nOne. The cabin will not be rented. Not to strangers, not through a website, not for one week, as long as either of us is alive. David's arithmetic is correct and is not the point. R. said it better than I did: \"It isn't an asset. It's where we are.\" We can afford it. If the day comes when we cannot, we will say so.\n\nTwo. Beginning next summer, each of the three families has a week here of its own, besides the Fourth, with nobody else's children in it and the two of us either out of the way or gone home, as they like. Each week is to be claimed by March 1. First choice goes in turn: Kate in 2024, because she comes farthest, then David in 2025, then Ellen, and round again. I will keep the calendar. Ellen said, \"Of course you will.\"\n\nThree. The question nobody asked on Wednesday, what becomes of it afterward, is ours to answer and not theirs to settle among themselves on a porch. We have an appointment with Rebecca Stannard in the fall and will put it on paper properly. I told each of them only that it will be written down and that they will not have to guess.\n\nDavid was quiet, and then said he had only been trying to help. I said I knew that, and that his father had read every line of the spreadsheet and found one error, in the propane. He laughed. Kate cried a little and said she had been a brat. Ellen asked whether her week could be the last one in July.\n\nWhat I keep thinking about is R. at the cleaning bench in the dark with the hose running and no fish. He does not hold it against them. He said this morning, \"They're allowed to have opinions. They're not allowed to have the cabin yet.\"\n\nThe loons have one chick this year.\n"
}
Source
personas/retired-couple/records/journal-2023-2024.yaml:196
- id: journal-2023-07-09
kind: journal_entry
about: [cabin, ray, david, kate, ellen]
date: 2023-07-09 20:00
body: |
They left yesterday morning, all three cars, with the usual shouting about swimsuits left on the line, and everyone hugged everyone. Kate and David stood by his car for ten minutes talking, which I watched from the kitchen window.
R. and I sat on the porch last night and again this morning and have decided three things. I telephoned each of them this afternoon, oldest first, and said the same words to each, so that there can be no comparing of versions.
One. The cabin will not be rented. Not to strangers, not through a website, not for one week, as long as either of us is alive. David's arithmetic is correct and is not the point. R. said it better than I did: "It isn't an asset. It's where we are." We can afford it. If the day comes when we cannot, we will say so.
Two. Beginning next summer, each of the three families has a week here of its own, besides the Fourth, with nobody else's children in it and the two of us either out of the way or gone home, as they like. Each week is to be claimed by March 1. First choice goes in turn: Kate in 2024, because she comes farthest, then David in 2025, then Ellen, and round again. I will keep the calendar. Ellen said, "Of course you will."
Three. The question nobody asked on Wednesday, what becomes of it afterward, is ours to answer and not theirs to settle among themselves on a porch. We have an appointment with Rebecca Stannard in the fall and will put it on paper properly. I told each of them only that it will be written down and that they will not have to guess.
David was quiet, and then said he had only been trying to help. I said I knew that, and that his father had read every line of the spreadsheet and found one error, in the propane. He laughed. Kate cried a little and said she had been a brat. Ellen asked whether her week could be the last one in July.
What I keep thinking about is R. at the cleaning bench in the dark with the hose running and no fish. He does not hold it against them. He said this morning, "They're allowed to have opinions. They're not allowed to have the cabin yet."
The loons have one chick this year.