When you do both, they become one. You work hard, and play hard. There isn’t much difference, anyways, except for the fact when you work you get paid.

I’m still a volunteer at the Bright Lights Book Project. I don’t foresee my getting paid in the very near future because no one on the BLBP board is motivated enough to work to change the situation. Talked with a person about being a volunteer coordinator, which we need – a good choice. There was no mention made of paying me.

The problem might very well be that, subconsciously, I feel as though I don’t deserve to be paid. Once I convince my subconscious differently, the situation will change. In the meantime, I am going to keep doing what I appear to be doing so well.

I made a wise decision in deciding not to be a vendor (this is what they call them) at this year’s Emergency Preparedness Fair. Yes, it would have been a good idea to get emergency preparedness books into the hands of appreciative readers. The problem has been that in the past there were not enough appreciative readers at this event. When you have just one event table, and hundreds of people are rushing past you, stopping just to pick up a book and run; well then, the mission and vision are then a wash.

This morning I stopped at Fireside Books and picked up a copy of Dostoyevski’s The Idiot for Cathy Stone, our artist in residence and my good friend. She’s been blown away by this author’s writing, so I went and purchased this book.

It was interesting – there were far more new than used books at Fireside. Could it be that we have cornered the used book market? Or is there more profit in selling new books? I spend too much time thinking about these things.

I did get a swim in today, and I gave a card that Cathy made to my lifeguard friend, George. He is the Palmer Pool Bookcase guardian. He then helped me stack the pool bookcase. We talked for a while about pool and reading literacy.

I also talked a few times with my friend Mary. The issue of what to do about Mario has not been resolved. He needs a more comfortable place than where he’s now, at home. It’s hard now to find places for the elderly to spend their final days because there are now so many of them.

Youngers make up the majority of journalists, and so this matter of there not being enough places for the elderly is of little interest to them. I don’t know what is of interest to them.

Those who are older are speaking disparagingly about the youngers, saying they have no drive and no initiative. I wonder if my grandmother’s generation spoke similarly. Or is this now a truism?

Well, the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel is now a community. Mission accomplished.

Next: 253. 9/20/25: A Day off: Coming Right Up