Sleep Dream.   I am at the Cedar St. house of Grāvele. It is sunny, spring. I’m in the kitchen (which waking Vitauts doesn’t at all remember) by myself. The space feels odd, but not at all threatening, a bit sterile, like no one really lives there, like a motel. There is going to be some sort of Latvian gathering there. In though the back door arrive half a dozen or so people. A tall and hefty fellow comes right up to me, smiling tentatively, as if he knows me. I’m not certain who he is, but feel OK with it. He holds out his right hand. „You don’t recognize me, do you?“ he says with a grin. „I’m Arnis.“ Of course! Antra‘s brother. The Ziedonis parents are there, perhaps the Binders couple. All friendly, but not interacting with me, they are bustling around the kitchen, getting food and beverages ready. I see Antra, standing by herself. I note how short she is, no taller than four feet. Short, curly hair; large, timid eyes; a large, pale-skinned face. She seems like a scared ten-year old. No anger, no hard edges. Sweet and unexceptional. Lost in the hurly-burly. Grāvele enters. She, too, seems timid, like a kid, unthreatening, as if wanting guidance.