This is one of our best fundraisers. We usually have 40 to 80 people.

Some of the people who bought tickets told us to keep the money.

Our donations are down by at least $10,000. We're hurting for money. I know there's a lot of donor burnout. We do appreciate all the food and personal items that people donate but we need money to stay open.

Unfortunately, the winter has not been that bad until last weekend. There's not as much cabin fever as we expected. It has not been an old gloomy, ugly, cold winter.

He'd solved the problem you see—and that's the way some people are. They are ceaselessly finding ways of getting to grips with the world, of surmounting certain antipathies so as to apply themselves to it that little bit more. It's quite admirable really, how they refuse to let anything come between them and the rest of it—Oh, the rest of it! Sort of there, sort of hovering there all the time. Different ideas come to me now and again—strategies I suppose that might inculcate a little more compatibility. I just don't know if I'll ever get the hang of it if you want to know—as a matter of fact I think I've left it a little too late to cultivate the necessary outlook.

Everybody knows deep down that life is as much about the things that do not happen as the things that do and that's not something that ought to be glossed over or denied because without frustration there would hardly be any need to daydream. And daydreams return me to my original sense of things and I luxuriate in these fervid primary visions until I am entirely my unalloyed self again. So even though it sometimes feels as if one could just about die from disappointment I must concede that in fact in a rather perverse way it is precisely those things I did not get that are keeping me alive.