Seventy today.

Comments are added in the local viewer; this copy is read-only.

From the app's own code (viewer/app_export.sh): Not made yet: run viewer/app_export.sh retired-couple.

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_2025_04_19",
 "createdAt": "1745101800000",
 "date": "2025-04-19T22:30:00.000Z",
 "body": "Seventy today.\n\nAt four yesterday afternoon Kate was at the back door with a carry-on, and behind her David, and behind him Ellen, grinning like children who have got away with something. Only the three of them. R. had known for a month and had not let on.\n\nI have not had my own three, by themselves, at this table since Kate left for college. Ellen has gray at the temples and takes charge of the kitchen. David has R.'s way of standing in a doorway. Kate still sits with one foot under her.\n\nThey cooked: Ellen the lamb, David the potatoes, to a recipe, with a thermometer, and Kate a cake with seventy candles on it that set off the smoke alarm. I was on a step stool waving a dish towel at the ceiling while R. shouted directions he could not hear himself give.\n\nAfter supper they got out the slides. R. has not had the projector out since 2003. There we all were on the dining room wall, six feet high: the apartment on the east side; this house the week we moved in, with no trees; the three of them in the wading pool; Mom at the farm; Gus as a puppy; R. with hair. Nobody said very much. Kate had her head on David's shoulder, and Ellen held my hand in the dark, which she has not done since she was nine.\n\nMom at seventy still had Dad, and the house, and drove herself to church, and I thought of her as old.\n\nR. gave me a card. Inside he had written the date, and under it: \"Still the right blue.\"\n\nTomorrow is Easter, and Ellen drives home at dawn to be in her own pew; the other two fly on Monday.\n"
}

personas/retired-couple/records/journal-2025-2026.yaml:36

- id: journal-2025-04-19
  kind: journal_entry
  about: [me, ellen, david, kate]
  date: 2025-04-19 22:30
  body: |
    Seventy today.

    At four yesterday afternoon Kate was at the back door with a carry-on, and behind her David, and behind him Ellen, grinning like children who have got away with something. Only the three of them. R. had known for a month and had not let on.

    I have not had my own three, by themselves, at this table since Kate left for college. Ellen has gray at the temples and takes charge of the kitchen. David has R.'s way of standing in a doorway. Kate still sits with one foot under her.

    They cooked: Ellen the lamb, David the potatoes, to a recipe, with a thermometer, and Kate a cake with seventy candles on it that set off the smoke alarm. I was on a step stool waving a dish towel at the ceiling while R. shouted directions he could not hear himself give.

    After supper they got out the slides. R. has not had the projector out since 2003. There we all were on the dining room wall, six feet high: the apartment on the east side; this house the week we moved in, with no trees; the three of them in the wading pool; Mom at the farm; Gus as a puppy; R. with hair. Nobody said very much. Kate had her head on David's shoulder, and Ellen held my hand in the dark, which she has not done since she was nine.

    Mom at seventy still had Dad, and the house, and drove herself to church, and I thought of her as old.

    R. gave me a card. Inside he had written the date, and under it: "Still the right blue."

    Tomorrow is Easter, and Ellen drives home at dawn to be in her own pew; the other two fly on Monday.