I parked out front to avoid Kevin, though I saw no evidence of him when passing the back porch. Sweet Gatekeeper was in the kitchen, and she'd already pumped out 50 PBJs. I set to work sacking them. We went to the walk-in fridge and made lunch and dinner decisions based on the myriad restaurant donations. Sadly, many of those stayed on the "dog food" shelf.
For lunch, we had several large trays of donated hors d'oeuvres. Gatekeeper plucked off some moldy peppers—then she taste-tested several of the vegetables! That girl must have a stomach of iron. We also chose rice-stuffed peppers and stuffed chicken breasts. Some of those foods were delicious, according to reports.
For dinner, we chose a large pan of shredded beef, black beans, a dozen fresh spaghetti squash and rolls. (We have five 5-gallon tubs of black beans, so the next time you order those at your favorite restaurant, give it thought.)
The spaghetti squash was fresh, and Gatekeeper and I both knew those were destined for the dumpster if some woman didn't come along and cook them. So we did. Cutting them up was very hard, but when they were baked she enlisted a young man from among our residents to help us prepare the dish. He's working at a restaurant, and he has culinary skills. My arthritis and I were thrilled to have his able hands scraping out the "spaghetti" and mixing it with herbs of his choice. It smelled divine!
There were so many jobs to do that they all ran together—coffee, ice bucket, serving lunch, preparing dinner, cleaning, and there were requests to open the door (keep the gate), provide sack lunches for late churchgoers… "Unending services rendered here."
A young woman is staying there now with her large, beautiful black dog! I didn't know we housed dogs. I did see my little boy as I entered through the front today. He and his daddy were waiting to go to church. I told him I've missed him awfully! He said he's been at summer camp and today church. I asked him to leave me a note or draw me a picture because I miss him so much. He looked a bit sheepish at the suggestion. How cute was that!
Kevin was in his private apartment on the back porch lift. He slept through the entire day. I can only imagine that his Saturday night was a doozy. Gatekeeper and I checked on him from time to time. At least three people mentioned Kevin today, saying he holds a special place in their hearts. He has no idea how many people love him.
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| Kevin sleeps. |
Our steady friend from the hotel across the street came for lunch, and he brought his new boss with him. They are delightful young men! One of them even repaired our toilet seat—just because it was wobbly. That was dear.
As afternoon came on and we began dinner prep in earnest, an interesting character took up the piano bench in the dining room and began to play. His appearance is reminiscent of Red Skelton's Freddie the Freeloader, and his posture is like that of Victor Borge in his comedic element. His hair is dark and curly, and if he's had a bath this year, it is not apparent; however, Gatekeeper assured me the man bathes.
His piano abilities are all in his mind, but if you listen closely, you can hear the genius in his renditions. There is a mystical rhythm in his choices of bass and treble notes that gives away the depth of his musical emotion. I thought it might be fun to play Chop Sticks with him, so I wandered over to the piano and asked him, "Do you play Chop Sticks?"
Yes, he does. He rolled immediately into his version of six strikes with each hand, high and low, no special choice of keys, but so obviously a rendition of Chop Sticks. I gave him a smile and a thumbs up as I hastened back to my kitchen post.
Often, I thought I would leave there today with many aches and pains, but by the time I finally left, I could only feel the glow of a magical day in a magical place.
P.S. To my Romanian reader with the Macintosh: How did you come to find this blog… why do you open it immediately upon its posting (is that programmed into your system?)… and why do you read it?
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