This is perhaps my favorite of the Lamatt memoirs. I liked her little stories, again, written in a diary-like format (and once again rife with grammatical mistakes!), and her descriptions of her fellow homeless 'housemates' in the shelter.

I sympathized more w/Lamatt in this book, though I still find it hard to relate to Lamatt as a mother. She left her family-her drunken husband and her two children- to go live with a friend. She moved several states away, never to return, and called her children weekly, according to her. And yet she wonders why her 'family has abandoned' her. It sure seems to me that she was the one doing the abandoning, not the other way around... And so now, in this book, she finds herself alone without a place to live, her friend had died, and somehow she hasn't anyone at all whom she can call on for help..... It is amazing to see how people like Lamatt and her housemates there at the shelter fail to see their part in their fates.... But despite that, her writing is interesting and I found myself not wanting to put the book down.

It would be wonderful if Lamatt found herself a good editor, a professional one, who could help her with her writing, as she is a good story teller. ( )