BRINGING IN THE SHIVERS

       We had a lovely snowfall Friday night—if inappropriately obliterating the PEAKING of our autumn leaves. Most of the snow is gone today, but it's cold, and the masses have gathered at the shelter—for shelter.
       Doug had some things to unload on me this morning. Miss Lillian had gone in last week and declared to the upper echelon that she'd never seen such a dirty kitchen in her life. In fact, after I'd been there 2-1/2 hours, it became clear that Lillian has been throwing Doug under the bus for many months, whether during her brief "retirement," during her brief "part-time" position, or now, as she makes plans to return after a brief illness. We don't understand her need to do that, unless she wants her full-time position reinstated…
      Meanwhile, a new part-time fellow has been hired, and I've spent time with him these past few Sundays. He's just the sweetest, most unassuming fellow—and caring. I don't know his story, but he surely has one, being past middle age and working such a menial job. His radio "at the house" broke this week, so he guesses he'll need to get another one. I sense in his telling about it that such a purchase must be made thoughtfully. These events bring out the thankful in me, and I need to have that brought out often.
       BOB and Dean have come to know each other, filling in together lately. The whole clan stands behind Doug—except for Lillian. The hierarchy also mentioned this week that a huge amount of donations had "disappeared," and that won't be tolerated. Only two people, to my knowledge, have helped themselves to the goods, and it's almost funny, but those are the two who try hardest to get Doug in trouble. What a mess!
       Today, I found 3 large crates (the size of banana boxes) full of beautiful yellow summer squash in the cooler. I cannot afford yellow squash unless I find it at the outdoor market in summer, but there it was, all free today, and not a soul willing to cook it. I brought home 5 squashes, but it didn't put a dent in the donation.
       Another large box was full of new potatoes (red & white) and bell peppers (red & green). I used a dozen of the little spuds and a few of the squash for my soup. Also in that box were 5 tiny turnips (I brought those home too). It was my house or the landfill.
       Just to give you an idea of the massive amounts of donated junk foods, imagine six banana boxes full of donuts, two filled with bakery cookies and cakes, two full of animal crackers, one full of last December's Moon Pies, and one full of candies and gum.
       It's SAD that the nutritious foods are not used because "we" are too lazy to prepare them, but the gooey sweets are embraced gleefully. Our 4-year-old's mommy wouldn't let me give her a candy because "she already has too much of that stuff!" Good mommy!
       You won't be surprised that Doug and I raided the main pantry for canned goods for my soup. I was intrigued with cans of "turkey meat in sauce," so I took a few of those, thinking they'd be almost like having chicken in the soup. Man! I popped the lid off of one can and saw what looked like dog food. It didn't smell any better either. Doug's taking it home for his dog… Oh, and the pantry was nearly bare. Doug says we no longer give bags of canned goods to the homeless who are walk-ins. Last week it was full; this week it is one hungry-looking pantry. Why don't we give the fresh vegetables and oversupply of donuts to the walk-ins? Surely, some among them would have a stove… you think?
       Still, we had enough assorted vegetables and chicken to make a fine pot of soup. Our 500-pounder declared it to be the best soup he'd ever eaten… and no, he didn't need his insulin at lunchtime…
       If we have any "fun" pre-release, they either weren't there today or they were too cold to be jolly. They came, they ate, they left. The homeless came en masse, and there are new children, so now we have at least four. They got their choice of bubbles or PlayDoh, and  gum. I noted with interest that the homeless wore their heavy coats and scarves to lunch, in the same room where I had to crack a window to avoid heat stroke. I guess that's like wearing your diamonds as opposed to leaving them at the house, at risk of theft.
       Doug spent most of our time together scrubbing down everything he could. The bread box was scrubbed. All the spice bottles and their box were scrubbed. Lillian had fussed at the new part-time fellow last week for leaving the salt box on the shelf over the stove, while he was cooking and using it. She wanted that salt put away when it was not being shaken into a pot. I dunno, but something is amiss here, and I'm really happy to have a day job that doesn't include "the powers" at the shelter.
       Doug gave me the distinct feeling that he would prefer making the same wage at McDonald's to working under such stress, so I must wonder how much longer he'll kowtow to the bizarre system of this environment.
       Feels like change is in the wind again.