I suspect I evaded the cameras on Thanksgiving and the day after, so I don’t have proof that I looked homeless. I was presentable enough on the holiday, wearing a green top and black jeans. As usual, the following day I wore the same clothes to walk. People were up and waiting for us when we got home, so I went into high gear to get breakfast on the table. Of course, we visited at the table and drifted into the kitchen to chat. I planned to shower and change clothes when there was a natural break. Well, the natural break never came, not while I kept talking. On the spur of the moment, we went to the dish barn down the road, and after that, we ate leftovers for a late lunch. By then I had quit thinking of getting clean. After Beth and Bob left for home, I wanted to write before the young set came home. The clock chimed six times. Well, who showers for the day at 6? Might as well go to bed dirty. The next morning I didn’t have any already-worn clothes except the ones that were double dirty. I’d wear them only to walk to the creek with John and visitor Chris, or so I thought. We saw Amy on the way out and invited her to have breakfast with us. It’s marvelous having neighbors who can do things on the spur of the moment. We had some good laughs at the table, but I knew the next activity had to take place inside the shower. I was afraid that at any moment someone might tell me that I SMELLED homeless.