"My mother isn't very organized yet," said Dawn. "Actually ever. Mom!" she called. "Mom, I'm home!"

"I'm in the kitchen, honey."

Dawn and I stepped over and around things, and managed to reach the kitchen unharmed.

I could see what Dawn meant about the house being small. The kitchen wasn't even big enough for a table and chairs. And it was dark, the window being blocked off by some overgrown yew bushes outside.

A pretty woman with short, curly hair that was every bit as light as Dawn's was standing at the counter slowly turning the pages of a large photo album.

Dawn took a look at the mess (the kitchen

was as jumbly as the living room had been) and then at the photo album. "Mom!" she cried. "What are you doing?"

Mrs. Schafer looked up guiltily. "Oh, honey," she said. "I keep getting sidetracked. I was working away, and I unpacked this album and an envelope full of pictures marked FOR PHOTO ALBUM, and I just had to stop and put them in."

Dawn smiled and shook her head. "I don't know, Mom. The way we're going, we might as well leave the house like it is. Then, if we ever move again, we could just throw the things back in the boxes."

Mrs. Schafer laughed.

"Mom, this is my friend Mary Anne. We eat lunch together."

Mrs. Schafer shook my hand. "Hi, Mary Anne. Nice to meet you. I do apologize for the mess. If you go up to Dawn's room, though, you'll find the one civilized spot in the house. Dawn had her bedroom cleaned, unpacked, and organized the day after we moved in."

Dawn shrugged. "What can I say? I'm neat."

"Would you like a snack, girls?" asked Mrs. Schafer.

"Is there actual food?" asked Dawn.

"Well," her mother replied, "there is actual grape jelly and an actual can of peaches."

"We've been eating out," Dawn told me, "in case you couldn't tell." She turned to her mother. "I think we'll skip the snack, Mom. But thanks."