We were at the creek watching stuff. I had taken pictures near the creek of the way the creek has changed its course over the years. We were watching people awhile--even terrorists and people up to no good (drug deals) and of some very knobbly trees and the way the background, the fruits looked stacked up--like grapes at the fruit stand. Then Nancy from the NY Times was pointing out photo opportunities--the rolls and rolls of RC paper with the column count and derogatory description about Uncle Bob's letters to the NY Times columns ??? A guy was there I liked and I couldn't keep my thoughts straight to count the columns and measure the depth. There was a place on the hill I had been and another girl was there now and Nancy said this was the best picture and to wait and watch the girl. Meanwhile Dora and I were sitting on my mother and my father's bed and a funeral procession was walking--lots of people walking by under the window. Dora closed the window because the people's feet were making noises shuffling. Lots of people walking under the window and they were making excuses...it had been a mixed-up and misunderstood group death of a family and Dora said her bank had taken out a little money at a time--$5.00 to insure her for the strong likelihood that this family would not stick around to pay her for her counseling services. She wasn't mad, she had just had enough. A knock came at the door. The first time I ignored it and acted like I didn't hear it because I got so little time with Dora. I didn't want any distractions. But later the knock came again and a little voice said, "It's Sue. Susanne from Miss Wilson's up the street." Her voice sounded shaky and I was worried about her so I went to the door and apologized for not answering sooner. But later the knock came again.