The Turning Point

Walked the uphill and did the other morning stuff.  After computer time, I walked over to Von's for a few items. Lunched, then hopped on the bus for town, as usual. I just happened to walk along Thompson Street, which I usually don't when I go to The Promenade. Saw a place with a sign, "The Turning Point," in the window and wondered what it was, so I walked in.
It turns out it's a refuge for the homeless, which abound in Ventura. Here, they can have a meal, take a shower, get counseling on resources, and--under certain circumstances--sleep for the night. For some reason, I was intrigued, and the woman I spoke to gave me some cards and a flyer on services. After I finished my usual on the beach and walked up to Main, I gave the cards to several of the homeless I happened to meet. I hope they can take advantage of The Turning Point.
Home, I was cooking my salmon for dinner when the olive oil set off the smoke alarm--I had to wave a magazine under it and it finally stopped. Suzanne rang my bell, having heard the alarm, and I invited her in. She just got back from Sacramento (retreat, then a visit with friends) and we had a long talk covering several topics, including The Turning Point. We talked until 7:00, an hour past my regular dinner time, but I was perfectly okay with that, as I much prefer to talk to Suzanne, anyway.  (Or, as I've heard some people say, "anyways.")