It's dark today, and misting, but not so cold. Numerous folks were enjoying the smoking area when I arrived, and my boy was playing with his yo-yo in the parking lot. He ran up to me as I came toward the door, "Do you have any yo-yo strings?"
"Yes, I do," I said, setting my bag on the nearest bench that happened to be on the "pre-release" side. The child started to come to me, then stopped. He's been told, apparently, that his group isn't allowed on that side of the front door. He inched close enough though, and I gave him a string. At first he said he could put it on by himself, then he said maybe not, and he would see me later for that. But he didn't come to lunch, so I'm just glad to have seen him at all.
A pre-release fellow begged me to make them some potato soup, but I reminded him that fresh potatoes were hard to come by there. "Probably take an act of God!" he grumped. I agreed.
One of our homeless who happens to be jolly and plump did a lot of mopping and other chores this morning. We fed him very well, and mirth is always welcomed there.
Lunch was already planned—Doug was cleaning out the refrigerator… leftover potatoes, steamed broccoli, BBQ chicken wings, corn dogs, peaches, applesauce, and fried potato cakes—depending on which group you were in and which plate you got. There was grease aplenty!
A young man who is working off his community service hours worked with us for a long while. In preparation for Thanksgiving, Mr. Huggy had put dozens of turkeys in the walk-in refrigerator and those had dripped a deep yucky puddle on the floor of the fridge. You can't imagine how upset our cook was about that, but our helper stacked the turkeys neatly and mopped up the puddle. Then he and I made up 48 sack lunches. I was exhausted long before serving time.
The pre-release were house-bound today (because of some infraction that had occurred). They were grumbling about not getting to see their families, but for the most part, they were in good spirits. We have one who doesn't eat pork. I enjoyed telling Doug about the days when we had many who didn't eat pork, boasted of their Muslim ties and all the other neat stuff they'd learned in prison. Doug was surprised! Come to think of it, we haven't had a group like that in a very long time. I wonder why…
Big John was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he got out early. I failed to ask Doug.
Among the homeless at lunch was our sick fellow. He's on oxygen now. It's uplifting to watch the others hover around him, bring him his food and see to his needs. I heard his voice at one point, and it was stronger and more upbeat than I would have expected.
The huge pale fellow I dubbed our "new kid" is ever present in the dining area and always of good cheer. He's got a warm bed and three squares a day for the whole winter, if he follows protocol.
The people who bring bread donations each Sunday arrived around 12:30, as usual. Doug and I no longer get excited about the many loaves, and today Doug demonstrated the loud "crack" that a loaf will make when you drop it on the floor. Then he scored 2 points heaving it into the dumpster out back—bam, chunk, boom—as it hit the side and bounced its way to the bottom. I found another rock-hard loaf and asked for a replay.
I'm thinking our creative cooking is not going to happen again for a couple of months. Those dozens of turkeys will not be consumed on Thanksgiving and will be served out (as always) for at least a week afterward. Then the Christmas feast will begin…and endure.
There was no exhilaration driving home in the mist. I was not excited to tell you about today's events, but I was there and I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
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