This is just a quick post I knocked out as I'm attempting to gather all the ingredients needed to make bread.*
Since the local thrift store is only about a mile away my friends and I go there quite often whenever the need arises for any hopeful but random object.
A week or so ago I was thumbing through the cookbook section when I ran across this
This is the record of a special moment between mother and son that I had somehow been given a speacial window into.
I wonder about how they both felt when he left home.
I wonder where he went, and how much use he found in this book.
I wonder why he didn't keep it, even just for the sentimental value.
Standing there at DI I felt like I had a string of lightning in my hand, one that connected me to this Sheldon Martin, where he went on his mission, and his mother.
I put the book back on the shelf.
* you wouldn't think it would be so hard would you?