Please live here and eat homemade bread

Handwritten page of a diary dated February 26, 1992

after that happened, I’d begun thinking my luck had gone from bad to worse.

Then I got that letter from Cam, saying his friends were going to Japan for a year and looking for a responsible person to housesit their houseboat. Cam said they used the phrase “non-partying” and I was the first person he thought of, which at first I thought made me sound ultra-completely-dull, but then I saw a picture of the houseboat and I was glad to be thought of as dull because the houseboat is       to     die       for.

So then I leave blizzard country and drive all day arrive at the houseboat (surprise, it’s even better on the inside) and I was only there 24 hours before the lady from the big yellow house brings me a loaf of bread covered with poppy seeds. She said she saw me moving my stuff in and she knew right away I’d be the type who could really appreciate homemade bread (and she was right and I got some butter and ate some right in front of her to prove it). She said she bakes bread about every 3 days and always ends up with too much, so I’d probably be seeing her again in 3 or 6 days.

I guess it’s really true that I’m on a schedule when every time I have a dark dismal year then I get paid back with a divine streak of good luck.


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Published in: on February 2, 2011 at 12:29 pm  Comments (1)