Thursday we play racquetball. It feels a little strange, not to get up and go to work. We try to keep to the same schedule, more or less. So I walked the dogs, but it was a little later, enough to be light out, and not quite so cold, around freezing. I ate some yogurt and took a muffin with me for later. The racquteball was fun. I managed to win the second game. It was slow getting going and I am thinking, "I am just doing this. It is not really fun or not fun." Then, I work reallly hard for one point. Ray returns a difficult shot. "Damn your eyes," I yell and return it in a way that it is impossible for him to hit. I feel a tiny bit the thrill of sports.

In the locker room after my shower, two young women are talking. They say, "it must be the scale." "Oh, good," I chime in. "Unless it was the pizza," one says. "Or the barbecue I ate last night." They are tall, thin, blond, but not unfriendly. One says, "are  you going to the Vagina Monologues tonight?" "I don't think so," says the other. "How much is it?" "I think it's fifteen dollars, but you know it's for charity. It's to help battered  women." "Yes, but you don't know how broke I am. My mother only gives me $600 a month." "You get an allowance?" says the first one. I ask  her if she has ever been. "You should see it." I say. They talk about it some more. As I am leaving, I give her ten dollars, folded up from being in my purse. "I can't take this," she says. "I want it to go to Project Safe. I want you to see it. Pretend I am your mother. " "Thank you," she says. I  am embarrassed. I don't want her to think I am some creepy old woman. But I remember not having money to do things. And I hope that my children could afford to go to a show they wanted to see. I hope it will protect her and educate her.

I am at work before 10. M. and I talk a little. I read my e-mail and do some bookkeeping. Before long, it is lunch time. I drive to Five Points Deli to meet Janna. We have a nice lunch and talk. Then I drive to ACTION. Meredith and I are being interviewed about our organization's needs and how the BCS grant can help. It is so much fun. We take turns. She has all the right jargon and kisses up really well. I fill in some details. We are a team with high hopes for the potential of our organization and we work well together. We are positive and enthusiastic. They will make a plan to help us and present it to us next month. They are also giving us $26,700 for new computers, a consultant, some of my time.

Unfortunately, I call HED and they are not recommending us for funding. The grants I wrote in December for child care and transitioning out of the shelter will not be funded. Meredith and I talk about it. We could stir up the board and our supporters and go to the commissioners and ask them to put some money for us back in--and they probably would. I know several of the commissioners and they are very supportive of what we do. But Meredith says no. We need to diversify our funding. More than 60% comes from government grants now and she thinks it is better to go to our donors and say, "we lost this funding and we need to make it up from somewhere." We think we can do it. There is a lot more that can be done in terms of fund raising. So I say goodbye to the work I put into writing those grants, calculating how much it would cost. I like having someone to listen to my thoughts and do the decision-making. At least so far.

At 5:00 I drive home. I have Janna's video camera, to videotape tonight's cooking class. I got it at lunch. I thought, "I better charge the battery." But I cannot find the cord. I think I may have seen it somewhere in my house. I look for it and change my clothes. My father tells me about my mother's visit to the doctor. Some of the medicine she has been taking has reduced her kidney function. It is not a huge concern, but aggravating. Good thing she had blood work done. She has to stop taking some of her pain medicine--and calcium of all things. They think it will be okay, that it can be stopped. They are going out to dinner. I have to go without finding the cord for the video camera. How frustrating! I am angry at myself for not keeping my house tidier and my life more organized. And I am worried about my mother's health.

I get to Hugh's house a few minutes early. I try the camera. I turn it on, but nothing happens. There is a spare battery, so I switch it out. It works! It looks like it's still fully charged, so I put the camera in my purse and go in. Mom and the two little girls are leaving for the science fair. One has her Brownie sash. The other tells me she is a Daisy. I tell M. I have two daughters too. She is the nicest person. I say hello to the people already there and take a front row seat. Another woman who was there last week says "age has its privileges." I ask generally about videotaping (again) and no one seems to mind. Another woman is taking lots of flash pictures. There is Angela again and a man nI know slightly, Ed L.

Peter Dale is the chef at the National. He looks even younger than Hugh. He came to the Five and Ten to learn to cook. Hugh says lots of people come and work for free so they can learn from him. Peter was put to work butchering ducks on his first day. After a while, Hugh started paying him and now they are partners at the National. He is even more unassuming than Hugh, cute in a different way, incredibly earnest and soft-spoken. His mother is from Ecuador and he talks about his aunt and grandmother there. He makes the sauce for seviche and cooks the shrimp. Also the shrimp shells and then purees them in a blender to make the cooking liquid. He makes hominy salad and reheats pork he has already braised. He makes plantains, green and ripe. Hugh pours wine, gets the pots out and helps cook. It is delightful, maybe a tiny bit less so than last week. But I think, "I could spend a lot of time sitting here, drinking Hugh's good wine and watching and listening and eating." Because I was videotaping, I don't have any photos to post. Sorry. The kitchen was the same as last week.

Then I drive to the Classic Center, where the Democratic Committee is having a fund-raiser. They are roasting Michael Thurmond. I didn't really want to pay $50 for that, so did not mind that the cooking class kept me from going. I get to hear a lot of the presenters. They are very funny. About 200 people are there listening, many that I know. There is a good feeling. Michael says we need to eleclt a Democratic governor to save the state of Georgia. We all agree. I talk to Jackie Guy. She is working for the caterer, Magnolia's, and going to cooking school at Athens Tech. She seems happy. Ray introduces me to Brian, who is running for state superintendent of schools. His wife is French. We speak briefly in Fench. I introduce Janna to him. I wave and say hello to Becky and Kent and many other people. A hug for Charlie Maddox, a chat with Nancy Denson. Bernadette Allard has lent some mirrored squares for decorating the tables. We help collect  them and carry them out to her car.

I am very sleepy in the car on the way home, but we are home by 10. Ray puts the Olympics on--men's figure skating. I am too tired to watch and quickly fall asleep.