If I was high risk (i.e. pregnant, toddler, diabetic, etc) I would pass on the home made goodies and either donate money or find something store bought that is probably there. But we all have to be responsible for what we put in our own bodies or that of our children or pets. Just because it is in a restaurant doesn't mean it is clean,. When I was a kid there was a grist mill in our community. They were struggling but they had a quality product. The new health inspector was so proud to site them when he found 'ingredients' spelled wrong on the bag. The actual word 'ingredients' He made them issue a recall on the product. What the......? They went bankrupt every employee, was laid off. (I think there were 7) Now what in the world would that have hurt anyone? I wonder what effect this will have on the food network's call for people to have bake sales for hungry children. I have seen time after time where stupid laws prevented the less fortunate to benefit from something that would otherwise be discarded. In no way do I have any conspiracy theory about the government, but I wonder how many of these laws are really meant to protect the average citizen and how many were generated by lobbyists lining the pockets of those in the position to make laws. Just like those peanut processing facilities in Georgia and Texas. Trust me they were unsanitary a long time before it was brought to light. I would bet my now pathetic 401K on it that people were paid to look the other way. Many laws say this effects businesses with more than so many employees or only if you have this sale more than so many times a year or if you a dollar volume of so much. Bake sales, car washes, block parties, school carnivals, church bake sales, they all help the community and are a way to bond with your neighbors. We used to adopt a resident at a local nursing facility and all year do special things for him. We would cook for them and bring treats that they longed for (as long as it met dietary requirements) no more, governemnt says no.

My youngest grandaughter got a DS (hand held nintendo game) for her birthday from her "rich" grandma and grandpa. She could not hardly wait until Christmas to give me her gameboy. She knows what a gamer nut I am. And I always played her gameboy when I was at their home watching them. And with the Monopoly game in it. I absolutely love it. I play it all the time and carry it with me in my purse... Can you picture that....a 63 year old granny with her gameboy... And yes I've bought more games for it...yeehaw...I love it. I could just kiss her everytime I pick it up. Oh...and I've got to tell you...when Bradley (her 8 yr old bro.) knew she was giving me that...he had to dig around in his room to find something his grandpa would like...LOL...he got a rabbit skin....that made me laugh. I had to warn Denny to really act surprised and happy. patti

I lived in a ballroom for five years. It was part of an 1820 addition to a 1770's coaching inn in New England. The ballroom was 40' long by 20' wide, with a 16' high barrel vaulted ceiling. Lots of windows. Gorgeous honey-brown hemlock floor. Narrow kitchen and bath tucked in on one long side. Massive crown molding where the walls started to curve into the ceiling--made a ledge that my cats would perch on. Fireplace at each end. I loved living there. Watching the sunlight come in the windows at the east end in the morning and stretch all the way to the far wall 40' away, lighting up the floorboards. The mellow old brick wall at one end--originally the exterior of the inn, until the addition was put on. The space. The light. The openness. I'll admit, the first night in such a large space with the ceiling so high overhead was a bit odd. I felt sort of unprotected. But that feeling vanished very quickly. The building was brick, so not drafty. The landlord had put in modern, energy efficient windows and added a ton of insulation to the ceiling, as well as putting in a special energy efficient heating system, so it was not as bad to heat as I was afraid it would be. The big problem was the floor, which was, back in it's early days, some kind of special "sprung" flooring, with a bit of give for dancing. By the time I lived there, it creaked. Everywhere. Even when my cats walked on it. I put down area rugs everywhere, mostly to define living spaces, but also for the benefit of the tenants below me. Not that the rugs helped much. The other apartments were much more chopped up into little rooms, that would have been bedrooms and dining rooms and parlors in the original inn. One had the original kitchen fireplace, big enough for people to stand in, with bread ovens on the side. One had a cute little corner chimney, with shelves built-in over the fireplace. The building was L-shaped, with a kind of a courtyard in the back, where you could barely hear the traffic noise. Coming home after a hectic day's work, it was like entering a quieter time and place. I had always thought that I didn't like open-plan houses. What that apartment taught me was that I did like open-plan living spaces. What I don't like are open-plan kitchens. I loved the fact that the kitchen was in its own room, not visible from the rest of the space. I could leave dishes in the sink without feeling like I had to jump up and clean them. Cooking smells didn't permeate the entire space. I left there when I finished grad school and moved back closer to family. But I still miss it.

I hope you all understand what is happening. I truly don't want to come across as some God fanatic. I went to Catholic schools all my life and never, ever believed in God (who knew?) I went to a high school with cloistered nuns (4 years). One time, they took all the seniors on a "retreat". In this big ass bus. Three nuns came along with us. I was the one who put the 4 ft statue of the blessed virgin that was in the lobby of this retreat center in Sister Mary's bed (yup, that was her name, no kidding) then we covered the statue with a blanket. We still laugh about that. Then I went through the rest of my life. It ws one bad thng after the other. I remember saying to myself "why me?" And it wasn't that I was being punished for the pranks. Whatever I did was all in fun. I can say now, 30 years later, "thank you, God". When I look back at my life, I should have been dead. Three times over. To think that I never believed in Him, when he was there, right by my side the whole time. It's amzing. And believe me, it's not luck. I'm here in this B&B, with my beautiful, beautiful husband and my two gorgeous Saint Bernards, because I'm supposed to be here. If all that happened in my life, DIDN'T happen, I wouldn't be here right now. And I KNOW I'm supposed to be here. So when you say "it's a small world" -- there's a reason why these people come into your life. Or come into your life AGAIN. You just have to tap into it.