Art

Kathryn and I board a spiral contraption sitting on the surface of a river. It is dull red cylinder enclosing a spiral staircase that descends into the interior of the contraption. There are other people inside who come up and crowd the staircase as we try to get on. Then it twists down into the water. I expect water to come pouring in from above, but when you cannot see the sky, the water cannot get to you.
The machine transports us down the river a ways, then reemerges. I climb to the top and make some remarks. Then it descends again.

Later, in the modern art museum I surprise a man after a suspended look and kiss his behind a glass wall. I am surprised that I did not notice his unshaven face in the seconds before, and he is a terrible kisser.

Vegetables Are Superior to Books

We visit the library to do some research. It is actually more of a museum gift shop, with all sorts of useless things on display, but still we manage to check out some of the things we need. Two-year-old cousin Joey insists that we purchase a book on the viking raiders and their boats, but it is a work of art, practically, and I do not have enough money to buy something like that, especially for a two-year-old. I make him put it back, placating him by telling him we will buy some bell peppers later.
I am riding my tricycle out of the library parking lot at night, when I see Holly, heading into the library, probably to do research on the same project. I ask if she wants to come buy bell peppers with us, but she declines. I shrug my shoulders in a "your funeral" manner and pedal away.
It is daytime now. Having procured our bell peppers, we are having a picnic under some overarching rock formations on the mud flats. We eat hurriedly, as the tide will soon come back in.