Tomorrow Amelia and I are driving to Saint John, New Brunswick. I’m going to take the back roads and let her do some of the driving. I’m sure the controls of my Toyota Corolla will pose no difficulty for her.

I had to teach her about a few things–World War II, Vietnam, punk rock, space shuttles. She started reading up and now she knows more about twentieth-century history than I do. That’s my girl, smart as whip and twice as kinky.

She was tickled to hear they’re still publishing the Telegraph-Journal.

I was reading cnn.com yesterday. “It says here, they think they can find the Electra.”

Amelia loves CNN. She stood behind me and leaned down to read over my shoulder while she traced her fingertips along my collarbone. “I wish them luck with that.”

They won’t find her plane because it’s nowhere near the Pacific. We sunk it in the St. John River, near Grand Lake. No one will find it there because no one will think to look.

We’re planning a quiet night at home tonight. Amelia’s having a bath right now. As soon as she’s done, she’s going to slide into my room and drop her towel to the floor. I love how she gets clean in order to get dirty.

I think I hear the water draining…