When I worked at Pax Lodge, everyone had their "book," essentially a blank notebook. Whenever someone left, everyone else wrote in the departing person's book and she had the arduous task of writing in everyone's book. When we were fully staffed that meant that those not leaving wrote in one or two books a month while the poor person leaving had 13 or 14 books to write in on top of all the stuff one has to do a month before leaving somewhere they called home.
These books had a tendency to start out nice and thin but then expanded, sometimes even bursting their spines, as people added all kinds of things to them - pictures, badges, pins, gum, seashells, and all kinds of other assorted goodies. And of course the words...And the main thing, their contact information, the only consistent thing among almost every single book entry!
Anyway, while I was waiting for Alex to come home from work, I pulled out my books. It's a nice way to spend the evening, looking at pictures, being reminded of inside jokes and forgotten events, and reflecting on the wonderful friends I have (while lamenting that we're scattered around the globe).
p365-96-07
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