In an effort to resolve last month's ambiguity regarding Poppy, I offer the following transcript:
It begins with a few favorite objects, a brass leaf that one holds and twiddles in avoidance of nicotinic meditation, a smooth stone from the French Riviera and a little wooden plug that popped out of the furniture. One sets them side by side. One gets out the watercolors and pencil and it begins.
"What's this thing on my nose?"
I could say it's nothing --hardly noticeable-- but one look at her eyes and one understands the danger of casual falsehood. I can't lie to Poppy, not because she won't believe me but because she WILL, utterly and profoundly. Lying to Poppy and having her believe it is not something one wants on one's conscience.
"It is a doodle, a doodle of a very smooth pebble from the French Riviera."
"It's not very big, is it?"
"Each stone is a study of the world done in little, Poppy."
"Well, I have a question."
"It's about a report you sent in a while back, called 'Pumpkin Pants, Evolution Or Creation?' Was that entirely factual?"
"Well Poppy, I'm a bit surprised. You know the present is only marginally dependent upon the relative past, but past and present both are predicated on another temporal area."
"You're saying the past..."
"Falls out of the future, Poppy, as does the present."
"Wait a second, you know I'm writing this down, don't you?"
"This is my evaluation, isn't it?"
"Yep, and you passed, Geo."
"Oh boy, now I get to say it: My pleasure, and my privilege."
"Everybody knows you're a girl now too, Poppy."
"Oh yeah? Well...well...same to them!"