Ray left for work and I had a lot to do. I talked on the phone with the woman from the Memorial Society, who will send brochures for the End of Life Workshop. I arranged a date for the poverty simulation Feb. 4, which involved 3 phone calls. I did some work on the dessert workshop, too. I learned that I will take a test Friday for a housing counselor job with DCA on Friday.

I ate a sandwich and put away some things for our weekend away. I drove to the bank and made some deposits and then to the writing workshop, which I enjoyed. The first usually involves doodling and cutting pictures out of magazines. How could it not be fun? Then I took the clothes and jewelry in the back of my car to the Project Safe Thrift Store. I bought some yogurt and fruit at Bell's, so we would have breakfast today.

When I got home, there was my Dad's car in the driveway. He had brought some great pig food from Porterhouse and was watching Dean Martin on TV. Some of it is pretty funny in a dated and sexist way. Classic slapstick/vaudeville type humor. Ray called and I grabbed his jeans and boots and put on my pig-feeding clothes. Captain gave me a ride and we met him at the pigs. He had been to the feed store and got the 5 50 lb bags of feed that we buy every 2 weeks or so (more and more often of course). Paul was there too. He is building a root cellar for Karen. He and Ray carried the bags in and mixed the feed together. We poured the last of the old feed into three buckets, with some of the scraps from the restaurant and took them down to the pigs, who were happy to see it. My Dad hadn't seen them in a while and was happy to notice how big they were.

Ray and I went home in the truck and fed Cameron and ourselves. We watched TV, but I was in bed before 9.