Things move along... I'm on call again this week for the shelter. The phone rang, quite late, after I went to sleep last night, and I got up to answer it thinking, "gotta go out in the cold, where did I put the shelter keys", steeling myself for the emotions on the other end of the phone, but it was Kirsten's boyfriend, calling to apologize to her for something. She said, "I'm sorry he woke you up, Mum" but I was so happy that it wasn't a crisis situation that I just said, "Oh, no problem, at least I don't have to go anywhere" and I went back to my warm bed.

This morning we got a call from a little friend of Rachel's. She spoke to him briefly and then said, matter-of-factly, "He's coming over because his parents haven't come home and he's hungry." So he came, he and Rachel played video games for a while, we made KD, he wolfed it down and went back home to wait for his folks. Poor little sweetie.

The bake sale yesterday was fun. We had a table in the gym at the school, along with everyone else who had crafts or MLM or baking to sell. I made turtle cookies and date squares, like I used to make when I had the coffee shop, and we sold everything we had. I made tons, I've never gotten the hang of small batch baking again after the coffee shop, if I make cookies I make ten dozen, but it was good because only one other lady baked. I saw lots of people who've taken workshops over the last couple of months, and they introduced me to their spouses and babies.

This bookcrossing site looks like a lot of fun... (you were right, delia, it is my kind of thing) I used to live in an apartment building where people would leave books on a table downstairs, for others to pick up and read, and I would always look when I came home from work to see if there was anything interesting.

On the radio yesterday, there was a man talking about how he feels that writing in books is a good idea, marginal comments in pencil. Then what he does is give the book to someone else to read, and encourage them to write marginal notes and pass it on. So by the time he gets the book back, he has the thoughts of five or six other readers in the margins... I thought that sounded like a neat idea too, except that I'd want to have control over who got the books... no philistines...