February 5, 1992.

Two slides; one tall wooden one which slides
down to a lake, another one made of snow. It is very mild out
and the snow slide has become a slush slide. Native children are
sliding down on their stomachs. I am not sure if I want to try.
I don't know if it's because I'm scared of getting dirty or
scared of the cold and wetness. I climb up the wooden slide,
higher and higher and look down at he lake. Very bleak scenery.
There is nothing but water and slush. Gilles tells me from belwo
that maybe I shouln't go down. I look at the lake once more and
climb down.

I have told my mother (Marcelle) I will go have breakfast with
her around 8:30. Instead, I find myself in a chapel on a second
story old building. The building is on a narrow street like
those of an old European city. There is no yard, just a
sidewalk. Just the street and the door. The service in the
chapel is over and I linger in the back. I know no one but I
stand close to a little group of people and watch and listen.

They are families. I watch one. A couple of young men and
women. One woman stands a little apart but has much to say. She
is fairly plain looking; dressed rather conservatively. She has
short light brown hair and big pearl earrings. She wears
glasses. But she is so smart, so intelligent. I listen to her
talk and without really hearing what she has to say, I am amazed
at her intelligence. She is talking to her two brothers or
perhaps one is a brother-in-law.

I have to go; I have to go. My mother will be furious. I have
no idea how I got side-tracked like this. It doesn't make any
sense. What am I doing at this service? It is summer. I leave
and make my way to my mother's. She is not angry; she seems
slightly amused.


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