dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Saturday, October 24, 2015


This morning I didn't serve the hungry but Ming picked me up for the weekly community meeting, and we got there in time for me to rinse dishes, which was fun.  "Do you have anything you need to confess to me today?  Anything you're not telling me?" the dishwasher asked.  I was laughing because it is like that.

Then we had our meeting.  During check in, our friend G was talking about how at the bookfest he had a booth and showed lots of people his old printing press and some type and some printed ephemera.  "It was good to show everyone my junk," he said, and all of us started cracking up.  "Usually my junk just sits there in a corner with nobody looking at it," he said.  "And I made some contacts."  By that time I was laughing so hard I cried.  Then he told our friend R that he hadn't come to the bookfest, so he didn't get to see G's junk.

Otherwise the meeting was good though we were missing a couple people.  JR is sick with a cold.  And JZ was slow getting to the meeting.  "It's like herding turtles," G said.  JZ walks with a walker.

We went to WinCo, the grocery store that's a worker's co-op.  I wanted fresh basil so I can try making that avocado pasta sauce again.  I wanted walnuts.  I looked at lots of candy.  I should have got some raw cashews for making vegan creamy sauces.  We are learning about that store, with the amazing bulk bins.

Home again, we napped.  Our propertymate H rang the doorbell.  It works.  It plays a jazzy saxophone tune.

We need to roast about 12 spaghetti squash for tomorrow's Food Not Bombs serving.  I will use the oven oven though it smells.


Post a Comment

<< Home