Helping Not Helping

It's taking me two days to eat the pomegranate I retreived from the trash mash of failed vegetables. It was among the dark bruised avocadoes. I found a mango, too. A small triumph of retrieval and I had hopes for the firmness i felt among the soft alligator pears.

The bread this week disappointed. This excess spread over three six-foot tables, loaf upon sorry loaf of stuff I never ate and would not now eat.

Not eating what i never ate has served me well, so I starved genteely in the nursing home after feasting at the hospital where they made gourmet vegetarian options.

Each week some intrepid citizens get or others bring-- I've seen a large black man haul in the bread--- an array of discards.
One morning this included fruit tarts, cheesecakes, cakes as welll as the standard breads. And these not day old, but day of.... a marvel that often includes the multigrain artisanal loaves, my favorite being mutligrain with currants and sourdough pecan raisin.

Ahhh it would be nice to be able to get food from the supermarket. I have a lead again on someone to hire. And yes neighbors have offered, but one was unable to find raw almonds and it required five minutes of discussion to tell her what I meant and where to find them and still she returned with a tiny bag of slivered almonds for baking. I won't bother relate other failures to get single items, because I am grateful that should my need be dire I can make a request.... but old habits die hard and I so miss being resourced and rescourcefull

Anyway scrounging among the trash sometime yileds somthing and the avocadoes were mostly a waste but five spoonfuls from them was wonderful. And in addition to the alien and delicious pomegranate was a mango.

This saves me at least a meal of two extending the time between chinese food orders. And with a Christmas invitation to a mea, it has been a week and half since my last order. So when the Chinese food man came he questioned me a bit more closely as is to discern why I was three days late on my weekly call. We chatted about the two new years and he played with Obi who let him manipulate his body into silly anthropomorhic poses.

But I'm skipping the earlier part of the day. The crochet part has now spun off to a crochet blog. My tall nieghbor was talking to a short man who she kept insisting had a communication problem. His English was fluent and articulate so I didn't know what she meant. His hearing loss left him unable to hear the higher frequencies-- mainly women's voices. This makesme laugh. He is humorous and warm.

Turns out surgery has left him disabled and out of work and his hearing loss and lack of both money and equipment compunds the problem. All these troubles and challenges since coming from Cuba. Anyway I am moved to try to assist--- seems he's fixed several computers for folks but does not have one that works and has no internet connection to boot. I call the Center for Disability Rights--- why:? given thei utter lack of doing a single useful thing for me-- I don't know. Maybe because I believe his probelm is solvable. but no. They won't help me help him. He needs to call. I could have spit I would have or kicked or punched, because I see see seee the obverse of what happens to me.
their smug insistence in not helping and the way they find to not do anything. I'm trying to help the man get the MEANS
to help hinself. An Amplified telephone a TTY. Have him call theyy say make an appointment.

I remember frantically seeking a way to get connected and help to get connected to the net. And I remember frantically searching for the apartment and calling and calling and these organizations set up to help who? did nothing for me except make ecxcuses. And these are the same folks I called to find help shopping, to find help getting an automatic door put on a building that is HUD and asupposed to be wheelchair accessible and the hlep was never forthcoming, only the wasted time.

But I had to ask. and I did, for him. The Center for Indepent Living, as for me in the past, was ever so much more pleasant and kind. They suggested he stop by. I wrote down the information and left him a note under his door.

He was out conducting his own physical therapy, walking with a walker in need of repair. I hope I can hlep myself and then maybe find a way to help Mr. J.