Oh, tofurkey, how I have missed you. We've pretty well given up all processed foods around here. The occasional box of cereal. Loaf of store bread. Chocolate bar. Bag of pasta. Everything else is single- or logical- ingredient(s). But on a visit to the GTA, the grocery store we picked up a helium balloon for our three-year-old niece in greeted us with the novelty that is good sandwich "meat". And with heavy spicy mustard on crusty buns, I have been enjoying it. If my stomach would allow it, I would probably have eaten it all by now, a sandwich for every meal. Oops?

I've been picking away all day at prep for our new interns. Two of them arrive within the next week. We're trying to decide to hire a fifth or not. And another email from a wwoofer rolled in this afternoon, asking if we'd like help starting this weekend. Putting together their binders, writing policy, making support materials, small assignments, etc for them, it's just now occured to me how strange my life is. I round up the kids (still v. close to being peers) whom I (we) respect the most, and then I invite them to come live with us for six months, with a handful of other peers who share the same drive +idealism + goodness.

I remember when I was about 19, coming out of small town USA, moving to the suburbs of one of the most forward thinking cities in Canada, reading about a little village on the edge of the sea, where you could come live, and surf, and squat, for free, as long as you helped out. For free?! Coming from a Republican heartland, I remember thinking this must be the most beautiful, perfect thing I'd ever heard.

19 year-old me would be proud of 29 year-old me.

Differently, I really want to play in clay. I really need a pottery wheel.