Everytime I stop by my sister's place to shower and do some laundry, she says the same thing: "Why don't you move in with me and Phil? How can live like a homeless person? You've got family, you know. We're your family."

Homeless? I've got a home. It's like the hobos of the 30's used to say: "I've got the whole star-filled sky for a ceiling, and God's fertile earth for a floor. I just don't have any use for walls." (My crazy Uncle Georgie used to say that all the time.)



"I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul." -----Victor Hugo