Homes Of The Wanderer

I invited The Man's cousin to spend the weekend with us. I see her once every ten years or so. We must be sympatico in some way, because each time we meet, it's like I just saw her last week. We pick up almost exactly where we left off. Yet, we're so different. She's so out there, and dramatic, being part of the theatre community and all. Yet, we tread similar paths. When I met her this time, we discovered we have both been meditating. In fact, she's been doing it for the last ten years.

So she arrived downtown on Friday afternoon, we went to dinner, then we went to an all-day meditation retreat in the west end of the city on Saturday. On Sunday, we picked up The Boy at Butterfly Boy's at the east end of the city and dropped Cousin off at her friend's near him.

In our little jaunts around town, almost every street we turned down, Cousin pointed out, I used to live here. We must've passed at least four houses in different parts of town she's lived in. Cousin is quite the mover and wanderer. Our weekend together was like a trip into her past. Her former homes culminated in this experience of the familiar.

On Sunday morning, before we headed out to breakfast, I talked to The Boy, who had spent the night at Butterfly Boy's.

I said - What street is Butterfly Boy on again?

Boy - Here, Butterfly Boy will give you directions to get here.

Butterfly Boy - I live on W Street.

Me - W? What number again?

Cousin - W? I used to live there.

Me - Number XXX.

Cousin - I lived at XXX+4

Me - You lived four houses up from Butterfly Boy?

Cousin - Yes.

Me - Okay, Butterfly Boy, we'll there between 12:30 and 1:00.

BB - That's great. Perhaps you could stay for tea.

See why I love Butterfly Boy. How is it that a 16-year-old boy should invite his friend's mom in for tea. We made our way to Butterfly Boy's with no problem. But we had to decline the tea invitation as The Man wanted to attend a lecture on art theft at the museum. But geez, Cousin sure knows her way around town.