give this map to the children

So a family with five kids aged 4 or so to 12 moved in on the corner. I was walking by last week and called "Hey neighbors" and one of the little ones, a black-white pair, maybe 4 maybe 5, called out "We're not neighbors we're children."

They were worried about the dogs of Cohoes. Apparently one loud one lives in the apartment beneath them. I told the oldest child, a girl of I'd guess 12, Cohoes didn't have many dogs and the ones I'd seen anyway were behind good strong fences. We have a lotta of cats though I said. Were they afraid of cats.

Little boy one said a grey cat jumped right into his arms.

"Maybe cats will always like you," I said back. I don't know why. Something in me says of a family group like this give give give. Of your best.

Then tonight,why I came here, is I met another Lucille, a different Lucile, down the other end of the block, on the steep downhill toward the falls.

I've seen her before and said Hello. This night we had our longest talk. She's had 2 heart attacks though she's not very old. She hates Cohoes, grew up here. She knows my Lucille, my closer neighbor who inspired The Clotheslines of Cohoes, but she's not Arcadian French she's "Italian and Indian" mixed. Father-mother.

I asked her her complaints and was sorry I had. Long story ends with "I don't like white and black mixing and I don't care who knows."

Hmm. Just now I thought Does she know who I am? Does everyone know and are the watching?

But before that, why I sat to write is, I thought, I need to make a map of Cohoes showing known racists. Might as well get sex offenders in there too. And give this map to the children.

Still walking

After a recent visit to the family, little stories bubbled up. I realized, remembered, this blog. Maybe its the surface where the bubbles pop. So I resume. And I allow myself all topics loosely related to race, racial healing, and all the taking ourselves so seriously stuff.  I allow myself 2) to take myself less seriously.

Ok here's a little story I just told Kaki, Damear told me when I went down there to watch Dawn of the Planet etc.

Damear's in the Howard Street neighborhood, has a friend who lives near the house Kaki still owns and which the three lived their first year. So Amear walks by and sees one day the front door's open. He knows the folks who've rented  there now a decade or more--former housemates of Kaki, all in advanced recovery and loosely linked to the renegade nun's recovery community where Kaki used to lead AVP workshops. Anyway, Mear's been to the house, knows the folks inside. He calls but no one answers. He goes in halfway into the livingroom calls again no answer. Sounds like they're home but whatever busy.

So he goes into the kitchen--Kaki loves this part--and get some juice out of the fridge and pours a glass. And drinks it I suppose and goes back out.

Damear has a medium?serious girlfriend. Gabby.