Max and me and Levi spent the day together while Robin was dealing coffee beans in her glassy office. The morning part was basically a normal dude party. We watched lurid TV shows, ate snacks but no meals, and did some ill-advised projects.

After our naps we felt pretty restless. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” I asked. “Happy Meals?” Max replied. “No, not Happy Meals. Powell Butte. Let’s take Levi to Powell Butte. Maybe there’ll be enough wind to fly your kite.”

“And then Happy Meals?” Max said. “Like I said,” I said, “we’re going to Powell Butte. Then maybe we can maybe start to think about possibly getting some Happy Meals but probably not.” “OK,” Max said. (Abridged).

We started the two-hour-long process of getting ourselves into the car and drove to the foot of the butte.

Max ran to the split rail fence and started doing his normal feats on it.

It got dark awfully quick. It felt strange to be on the butte above the city at night. We saw the great shape of an owl standing on a long pine branch.

On the way home I got talked into stopping at Tortilleria y Tienda de Leon for a Jaritos. Tortilleria y Tienda de Leon is as close to Old Mexico as it gets and is our favorite place to buy guisas and masa para tamales and that sort of jazz. There is a stark collection of picnic tables in the back of the store for eating your guisas at. Max picked out an orange soft drink.