in solitary

Keia (not sure of spelling) has special needs. "She can't talk yet," her brother explains. But she can sign and she sure can use an iPhone.

 It's an interesting kind of solitude to be alone in the middle of a big family. The grandkids have been told not to bother "Auntie." And since I busted out in an allergic rash a few days ago, that probably goes double for fear of contagion. (Let's hope it's not mango flowers I'm allergic to.)  But they garden and sweep around me, hang out laundry, come home from school and work, listen to Elvis, watch TV and talk quietly to each other while I sit at my computer reading about dire disease and stock market crash. And putting aloe vera and coconut oil on my rash, wondering whether salt water and sun is good or bad for it and stalling.  Still haven't begun writing, which is why I've been blogging so consistently. A foretaste of quarantine.

It was hard to get A.J to stand still for a second. Also Keia before the phone was introduced. He's a bright kid, and he has to chase after his sister.

Keia instructed me to pose for her, including telling me to make the shaka sign. She wanted to take a lot more pictures, but I asked her not to. "Uses up the memory," AJ explained.