Handwritten page of a diary dated June 2, 1976
… so it turned out to be a perfect excuse not to work this summer. Just lay around at Mom’s house and do almost nothing except eat her cooking and watch movies on her Betamax player. Because then it’s back to college for one more year and then the real world and that means a serious forever kind of job. I shudder at the thought.
I got home too late for dinner last night, so poor Mom hasn’t even had the pleasure of cooking for me yet. I woke up and went looking for her, hoping to talk her into making blueberry waffles. That’s when I saw them on the porch — not one dorky owl. FIVE DORKY OWLS IN A ROW. Huh?
I heard music coming from the den, and that’s where I find her listening to a cassette of “Royal Scam.” So if she’s cool enough to buy the new Steely Dan, why is she tying rope and beads together and making a sixth dorky owl? She didn’t even want to stop doing the dorky macrame for a while and fix waffles.