SO LITTLE TIME

    When I approached the stairs this morning, shortly after 10:00, a woman was on the sidewalk across from our back porch. She was talking, but I assumed not to me as I headed for the steps. I caught a glimpse of a man relieving himself against the back of the building's el, rightfully assuming it was Kevin. On Kevin's "apartment/lift" was a lovely foam mattress. The woman, it turns out, is well known around there, and she had been cursing so loudly as to wake Kevin.

     Our gatekeeper went out then and told the woman to move along. Kevin tidied up his place on the lift and disappeared after that. Doug had asked him where he got that nice mattress, but Kevin wasn't telling. It came with a fitted sheet too! About an hour later, the woman came to the back door, asking for a drink. Doug told her no. 

The construction site continues to evolve.

Expired drinks, cereal and pastries, and recyclable plastics.
I love cupcakes; seeing them expired hurts!

    The PBJs and the meat sandwiches were all made. Doug and I sacked those with drinks, chips and sundries in a record 15 minutes. We also made 12 breakfast sacks. He was excited about that! Men feel bound to make a race of everything, you know.
     Missing today were cheese for the meat sandwiches and mayonnaise and mustard packets. Sack lunches have had only dry meat sandwiches all week. Some have complained. Doug and Gatekeeper are quick to say, "They should be thankful to have anything!" Well... it's hard to imagine, but I'm sure they're right.
     For lunch we made the soup. Two weeks ago, I took home eight nice pork chops to freeze for our next soup. Today, we used them. The soup was good! Doug deep fried mini-corndogs as the side. No one complained, and many had seconds. Our crowd has fewer women and more men now. The little boy and his father are still on the list, but I haven't seen them in weeks. The autistic fellow and his mom were there, as was Fancy Lady. Nothing to do but serve them gently and give thanks for not walking in their shoes.
     Only one fellow comes to Sunday lunch from the hotel across the street now. The others were let go. Surprisingly, he jumped in and helped serve some of our guests!
     When the lunch crowd had cleared out, Doug and I put together 30-some dinner plates: mashed potatoes, fried okra and donated meatloaf. We had no rolls.

The warming oven saves dinner.

     A toothless old one shuffled into the dining room very late. Usually, Doug reminds such folks that they are late, while giving them a meal. He doesn't do that to this one. She is too fragile and dear. She only wanted a sack lunch and some of her cottage cheese that we keep in the refrigerator. She's a chatter, and I feel guilty for not giving her as much time as she'd like. She ate in silence, dipping her spoon into the community mayonnaise jar over and over.
     I left after 4 hours, my arms full of plastics to recycle and a little box of fried okra.
     —Thankful here