PLEASANTVILLE...

       Doug had today's lunch planned to be as easy as possible. He deep fried chicken nuggets, home fries, and onion rings. I cored and quartered a bowlful of apples (he says I'm spoiling the residents), and I took some little skewers with cubes of pepper jack and cheddar cheese alternated with black and green olives. Those are always a big hit.
       Other than cutting up the apples, I was at loose ends before serving time, so I made 35 PBJs for BOB to sack this afternoon. Yes, he still comes right after church, and that cute gal who helped with the Christmas meal and who has my same last name still comes every Saturday. If I quit this job, somebody would slide in there so fast I'd never be able to get back on the ride!
       Angry Mom and her boys spent some time in the dining room before lunch, and came again for their meal. My girl and the baby were seen earlier, all dressed up, but they didn't come to lunch, so I assume they had a better Sunday than would have been possible cooped up at the shelter… but I missed them.
       Next week, Doug has an event to attend with one of his own children, so BOB and I will be the Sunday lunch cooks—solo! Doug put a sack of canned goods from the mystery box in my car for soup (lest it disappear during the week), and he will order chicken salad for us to serve. We'll be fine, but I'll miss him.
       There is a lot of ill will and odd behavior among the staff, from the top down. Miss Lillian again had Joey as her helper, one day last week. Someone commented that it was "just like old times." Again, she did not order the foods that Doug needed, but he says the milk will run out on her day, so there will be payback. It was also mentioned that the head of the whole shelter went ballistic on every member of the staff last week. Another rumor has it that the Crusty Old Gal I like so much might be let go, and would Doug like to have her job? It is said that she is far behind in her paperwork and does little. To Doug's surprise, he learned that none of the "social workers" there has any sort of qualifying degree for their positions. Crusty is the "head" of gatekeeping-with-form-filling, and if Doug wanted her job, he could have it—along with more pay. He doesn't want it. Neither would I.
       So there you have it—this place that the destitute and the delinquent are obliged to call home is about as dysfunctional as anyplace else they might occupy. The state inspector is due this week. I understand that there will be hell to pay for the deplorable conditions in the homeless men's area. Crusty is in charge of that…
       The Christians came to the shelter much earlier this week, on one of Miss Lillian's days. They had dozens of fresh doughnuts. Lillian told them, "these people don't need that stuff," and sent the Christians packing. Lillian is right, to some extent, but as long as she will pour bacon grease on fresh broccoli, she hasn't a leg to stand on when it comes to nutrition. And rude is unacceptable.
       Maybe next week will be filled with laughter and warm fuzzies. This week was reality's turn.