FRIDAYS CAN BE FUN

     Kevin was snoozing away when I arrived shortly after 10:00. Around noon, he made an appearance at the back door to ask for drink and ice. Doug provided. As much as Doug cares for poor Kevin, he is facing a hard issue: Kevin's friends are beginning to bed down on the back porch with him. This is not a sustainable situation for the shelter—after all, Kevin doesn't even live there.

Looking back, I marvel that he lived through the winter,
and only his demise would save him from another.

     Doug had a family emergency this morning, so I busied myself alone for an hour or more making breakfast, lunch and PBJ sacks. I had no idea how heavy a box of bread can be: If you fill a banana box with loaves of bread and place it on a top shelf, it's heavy!
     Only five or six folks came for a sack lunch at noon. Doug took care of them. We have a new fellow who is fresh from prison, and one of our former pre-release is returning to the shelter soon. We favor them, you know.
     For dinner, Doug made cornbread, fried okra, fried catfish and haricot vert fin. We were disappointed to find that the green beans had come from a scorched pot. I haven't seen my beloved beans since last I was in France, and I was so excited… until I tasted them; but, they were free.
     Well after the lunch hour, there came a loud knock at the dining room door. Doug was ready to dish out some scorn to the dimwit who dared come so late to lunch. He alerted me to his forthcoming rage… then opened the door only to find our wee toothless old one. Boy, was he glad he'd held his tongue. Soon, he was just as sorry that he'd allowed a conversation to be started. Tedious place, that.
     We spent a lovely afternoon mulling over political events and plating dinner. I'll admit, I had a ton of fun just being there. See you on Sunday, God willing.