Mourned

I haven’t written for some time, I know. Jake’s not coming back, but I don’t know the circumstances. I just know he’s not. And I’ve been very very sad. Some friends let me use their weekend house near Chicago, and that’s where I’ve been spending most of my time, petting their cats, looking at the water and crying. It hurts not to know. Because hope cannot die.

I had my work in Chicago, however, and I didn’t close the Chop Shop or miss my other jobs. It wouldn’t have been fair, and working also helped, even if 5 minutes before opening I’d feel all I could do was cry.

There are some new Chicagoans and they seem very nice and friendly. The sisters Tab and Mel, Lira and her husband, Samuel, little Vinny, Meadow.

I found a new gramophone for Una, Bosco and YoYo and set it on stage so they don’t have to kneel down so much. And we may be opening at the daytime in the manner of an English pub, with simple food and (shhh) drinks. It just happened; a man walked in the other night and surprised me with a request for “gravy and ‘taters”. Rick practically lives at the Chop Shop, so he keeps a hot plate and was able to oblige. And I thought it would be nice to have my neighbours and friends come from their work breaks to a hot meal rather than a sandwich in the park, especially now that chillier days are coming.