THE MORE THINGS CHANGE…

…the more they stay the same. Doug had a gigantic pot of his potato soup on the stove, and it was full of fresh, diced potatoes! Usually, it's just made from potato powder and milk, but this pot was hearty. To appease me, he asked me to make a little pot of vegetable/chicken soup. We served chicken salad and fruit on the side. For dinner he was making deep-fried breaded chicken breasts, green beans, and rice.

       Mr. A. was busy making sack lunches; "the helpful one" was not there, and we appreciated not having the help. If BOB came today, it would have been after 1:00, and I forgot to tell you I saw Mr. Huggy last week. He's been in hospital with gastrointestinal issues that you don't want to hear about either.
       Because the deep fryer was in use so much, the large overhead fans were running most of the morning, and the rice steamer was too. Either of those is enough to drown out all other noise, so there was little room for light banter.

       Doug said that two of the guys who work there regularly "got into it" one day last week, right there in the kitchen. Thankfully, it was only words, but when Doug tells a story and demonstrates how he stealthily avoided physical contact, it's just plain funny.

       Of our diners, several stood out. Among them were a 72-yr-old man who looks much older  because of meth, a silver-haired short paunchy fellow who is said to have been a mafia head (and looks the part), and a child. I didn't see the child until I was about to leave near 1:00. He was in the dining room with his parents. All were well dressed. They were not there to eat, but to visit. According to Doug, the father is a pre-release but doesn't eat there because "they have money." He has done time because he embezzled money from a bank, and didn't I remember that story? Nope. So they "have money" and don't eat at the shelter.

       The pre-release who brought a friend last week (not allowed?) brought him again today—it's his brother. They've both served time, and the brother has those tattooed tear drops at the corners of his eyes, indicating having served two sentences. Those can also indicate having committed murder or having been raped in prison. These brothers also have a sister  and parents who've served time; I think Doug said it was a family business…

       The scruffy fellow who thinks I'm special was there, but unusually quiet today. And our bottomless pit, the disabled guy who is always so neat and dapper but had a brain tumor… he ate and ate and ate, as always. There's something about his system that allows him to hold vast amounts of food but never gain weight. He's a pleasant one to have around—always cheerful.

       We have a very large woman resident who uses a wheelchair. Doug said they had a fire drill last week, and the woman got out of her chair and ran outside where she began to yell, "help!" Doug asked one of the head honchos if he should help the woman but was told, "only if you want to hurt your back." Sad.

       Late into lunch hour, Gatekeeper brought a young woman to the kitchen to get her started on some community-service hours. Mr. A. put her to work making PBJs. She said it was fun…

       The candy bins (two!) are well fixed, and again I brought home enough to hand out little candies to every diner for the next two or three Sundays. It's apparent that feast and famine can both be depended on to visit the candy bins, so I'm stashing it away.
       today's chuckle: The stove repairman refused to bring the replacment part on Thursday because Miss Lillian was working that day; and that's the way it is.