There but for the Grace

On Sunday I stopped to talk to what I assumed was a homeless guy though perhaps he was simply a trendsetter without much of a following. There don't seem to be many visibly homeless in downtown Soquel. Or at least I don't see them. There are a couple of card-board-sign holders by the Safeway (my sister-in-law suggested these sign holders were part of the Wall Street takeover as in Take Back Soquel). In a small town with one major intersection, and at any given time, only a few people milling about, this guy stands out. He's shaggy and scruffy and scooby! and who wouldn't be after sitting on the cold cement curb?


I stopped for gas and then pulled up along side him as he sat there. He turned his head and asked, "You got any herb?" I have herb at home. In fact, I have some basil he can have, planted in a pot that would really spruce up that location.


I told Brandon that because I was going to the grocery store, I'd pick him up some food. I don't have much money but still I have a heart (somewhere). Brandon continues our conversation by offering a list of food items and I'm thinking OMG he's a vegetarian -- with a grocery list. How must it be to be homeless and a vegetarian? It's difficult enough being one or the other but both!? My heart went out to him. "I want hot tomato soup," he says, "and can you get some crackers too?" I sort of waved him off at that point. I figured I'd still be there if I waited for the rest of his wants. As it was I had to go to Whole Foods to get hot tomato soup at that time of day. Do you know how much their soup costs!? I also bought him an organic apple in case he had a conniption about organic verses non-organic produce. I didn't want to hear that argument when I returned with his free groceries. I bought him a jar of organic peanut butter, praying he wasn't allergic to peanuts. Finally I picked up a small bag of nuts mixed with chocolate (must.have.chocolate.) from Trader Joe's. If I were a homeless vegetarian without a peanut or chocolate allergy -- this is the kind of quality food I'd like to eat -- sitting on the curb by the gas station all night in the cold without herb.


I hurried back to ensure the soup was still lukewarm to the curb where Brandon was still sitting. He arose and sidled over to my car. Thank goodness my nose quit working years ago. I asked Brandon if needed clothes which was truly a dumb question. This guy needed a make-over! He definitely needed a shower and a new homeless guy outfit. He needed a tent and some blankets and pillows and a chair and probably a flat panel TV. He told me (maybe it was a hint that I wasn't going to take) -- "I'm trying to find a place to live before the rains come" which seemed like a worthwhile goal though since he was sitting on the curb when I first saw him and still sitting on the curb about an hour or so later, I figured he may not have felt all that motivated. It wasn't raining yet. He said he'd been kicked out of several places. I asked what his drug of choice was? Herb. I asked what happened? Herb and family problems. I asked him why he wasn't downtown where the majority of homeless services are and he said "I get hot waiting in those lines." Plus if he stays in downtown Soquel, he's sort of a shelter of one with not a whole lot of competition.


Years ago I volunteered with a group of people who helped (one day a month) feed another group of disenfranchised and homeless people at a church over the hill. The guy who organized this particular evening hadn't done the greatest job of getting the food together yet still we had plenty of hotdogs (poor vegetarian homeless!!!), chili and other side dishes. The whole meal was sort of not all that well thought out I guess you might say. The volunteer group used their our own money, asked for contributions and cooked the food themselves. This effort took time and money when I could have been home with my family watching The Simpsons. Volunteering felt good, like I was doing something worthwhile for people less fortunate. Until this one night -- this one big guy standing in line waiting for one of us to hand him a plate with the lone hotdog, some chili and fruit -- obviously tired of standing in line, tired of being tired, tired of the curb-life and most likely a vegetarian with a peanut and chocolate allergy, belligerently critiqued "You guys need to get your sh*t together!"


If I recall correctly that night was the very last time I volunteered with that particular group. Now with Brandon and his shelter of one, he seemed far more appreciative of anything I offered (though he could still use some herb!). If by some chance Brandon had an allergy to any of the foods I purchased, by the time he mentioned it - I was nearly home, grateful I have a home I can go to for shelter once the rains come.

Of Squirrels and Men

I met Jesse late yesterday in Aptos at Zameen's. We ate their version of Mediterranean food. Jesse's the ex-bf's son and in spite of that connection, Jesse has turned out to be a thoughtful, compassionate young man - must have gotten the good traits from his mom. I've known Jesse now since he was 13 years old - we stay in contact though we don't see each other often. He is very tall. I'm 5'8" and shrinking so you can just imagine his height - if you're bored. We had a fun time, shared a lot of laughs and some sadness. We talked about our dead relatives, his mom, my husband. We talked about relatives that may as well be dead. He offered interesting gossip about one relative (of his) in particular though I mention no names. ;-) I'll simply reiterate that I seriously dodged a trailer-trash, alcoholic, pot smokin, unconscious, not-that-there's anything-wrong-with that bullet. Everything makes so much more sense to me now.

Not to change the subject but...
Lately when I take Bella for our before-work walk, it feels as if I'm accompanying her on her own version of  grocery shopping. We walk down the dead carcass isle first, then we hit the assorted wild animal poop piles among the other gross, smelly, on-sale foresty things in the "store." I quickly scooted kicked a squirrel fur carpet - laid out just like a fancy bear rug right before Bella scooped it up in time to put in her cart (so to speak) and underneath the squirrel carpet was another layer of carpeting - maggots. We escaped just in time though Bella would have lingered - longingly, lovingly, devotedly after all the other shoppers left the store.


The weather has been super-de-dooper. Last weekend, I was filling cracks in the driveway with tar. (You're right, I don't get out much.) Bella was really interested in what I was doing. She was sniffing tar and standing between my legs as I bent down to fill each crack. Ultimately, she got tarred on the back of her head, one ear and under her chin which you can kind of see in the photo. Now everyone who pets her has to be forewarned that her fur is crunchy and that I am a bad pet owner though someone offered feathers to go with the tar just yesterday, and that sort of seems like a fun idea especially with Halloween around the corner. Another helpful person suggested I use peanut butter to remove the tar when I know scissors will work too. Bella would try to eat the peanut butter and she'd be covered with tar and peanut butter. I can't use scissors because Bella is allergic to anything remotely clean-related (broom, vacuum, rake, shovel, hand vac etc.). Scissors would cause a frenzy while tar (or maggots) near her fur don't seem to bother her at all -- along with the poop stench she purchased earlier while on our walk through the (store-est) forest, toting stink like a reward. Don't get me wrong, Bella's still cute as can be as long as you don't pet her much. It's a relief to know that she is crate-trained for sleep at night so she can keep her stinkin, crunchy, tar-covered, poop-smelling body to herself -which brings me back to the some memories of the dodged bullet in the paragraph one.