Well, Rivendell Housing Co-op is certainly alive and well. There are now eleven residents including three children under the age of ten. I arrived in the midst of another spring thunderstorm, making my way through the L-shaped livingroom toward the loud music in the kitchen where four residents were busily at work slicing and dicing vegetables. It was a brutal sight as they emptied pile after pile of dismembered vegetables into a pot of boiling water for the soup. Kathie was rolling up other piles of rice and diced vegetables into sushi rolls and someone else was chopping the rolls into sections. They put me to work stirring the pot which seemed one of the safest things for me to do. They were also preparing the batter for the carrot cake, substituting one thing or another for missing ingredients as the process went along. All the time there was this running conversation about past and present residents, with my admiration being expressed for the new stone countertop, the tile floor, and the dishwasher. The residents now own the house free and clear of the original mortgage and are quite thankful that we started this whole project. They've certainly made other major improvements in the house, the new efficient fireplace insert in the livingroom, the new furnace, the new roof, the conversion of the attic into living space, all fun for me to see. About eight of us actually sat down for dinner, other residents being either late or committed to other evening activities. There are three massage therapists in residence, a carpenter/handyman, several musicians, some college students, a woman who was raised in a circus family, a young Black woman and her teenaged daughter who were in transition to Ann Arbor in a week or so, and a neighbor who shares meals at the co-op. I learned that there were other interesting things happening in the neighborhood, including a co-housing project where 12 families had taken over a block of houses. After dinner we did a little singing, I wished everyone the best of luck, and departed into the greater Twilight Zone of the Lansing night.

Today I have some more shopping to do for nieces graduate presents, and then dinner with two of my old Rivendell housemates who live in this area.

Charlie the gray cat seems to be tuckered out this morning; he's sprawled out on the left side of this keyboard, which enables me to use the mouse with my right hand.

Cheerily,
Charley Noble