One is silver, the other gold.

I matched up with Veronica. I didn't have class yesterday, so I was watching Evan and correcting papers while Chris did some odd jobs for extra cash and James was at school. I invited her to come by, and to bring Michael so that he and James could hang out. Poor Michael's still not at school. "Poor," I guess, because he seems to miss it; he lit up when he saw James and Evan this afternoon. Educationally, I'm sure he'll figure out what he's missing; it's the social lack that must hurt. Long division and reports on war battles (is that what James is studying? Good Lord, I don't even know) he'll catch up on later.

Anyway, Veronica was in pretty good spirits. We talked about a lot of stuff--I'd forgotten that, how much there is to catch up on with someone you've just met. I told stories about college I'd practically forgotten I knew. She's hilarious, and smart, and a great vegetarian cook. We hung out drinking tea and listening to the kids play until I heard Evan getting grumpy, which meant it was time to eat and I hadn't planned anything. Veronica whipped through my kitchen and put me to work slicing an onion while she did something with lentils that amazed me and James. We'd already eaten by the time Chris and Perry got in, around the same time, each one dirty and tired. Chris had been helping at a construction site, and it turned out Perry had been doing similar work across town--and was paid less. Chris is seeing if he can get him on his team at the site tomorrow. I have to teach most of the day, but Veronica offered to take Evan and pick James up from school. This is great--otherwise Chris would probably have to say no to the day's work; usually he stays home the days I have class. I'm already thinking about what we might do with the cash.

Perry and Veronica didn't get ready to go until the boys got sleepy. I wondered where they were going to, but we'd all been having so much fun I didn't want to remind them of any misfortune, or remind everyone of the disparity between our full-but-snug apartment and their . . . campsite? van? I know they're not in a refugee center, because it came up when we told them about the theatre thing. They liked the idea--I think both because the prospect of doing something for the refugees felt good, but also because it cemented that they weren't there yet, in the camps, and maybe won't have to go. If Perry can get enough work, if they can find a place to live . . . Jesus. I think we're living on the edge, and then imagine the four of us in a van with an ice chest and a Coleman stove.

Anyway, Perry offered to help construct some kind of moveable, portable stage platform--something we could hang a few lights from, something that would mark a performance space as special (maybe more importantly, something that'll fit in the trunk of our subcompact). We're having some theatre folk over for dinner day after tomorrow . . . I think this is really happening. I also think I'm serving them that lentil dish, if Veronica can help me make it. So good.