Sight after working Christmas Day this year...

...as I come up out of the subway, to get my bicycle and bicycle on back to my house:

A metal tray with a few peas in it, and some peeled potato quarters and some carrot chunks and some more peas scattered all over the pavement near it, like someone had dropped a tin of vegetables that they had brought to or from someone's house that they had been visiting.

Sight after midnight mass this year...

...as I descend into the subway downtown at like 1:45am in order to go home:

A little metal packet of mayo sitting out on the turnstile box, right next to where you swipe your card so you can get in.

I found a glove.

The other week when I was working at the home of my one assisted living client with disabilities, I went to go take out the trash and recycling, and there I found a glove sitting on the pavement of the parking lot right outside the backdoor of the apartment building.

It was a black and kind of nice-ish ski glove type of glove, and it seemed kind of new, so I brought it back inside the building and I left it inside the small main floor foyer on a table that's between a couple of chairs that I've never seen anyone sit in, though sometimes people leave packages on the table for people to pick up.

I hope the person who lost the glove looks for it and sees it there, before a cleaning person or whoever sees it there and takes it away and chucks it.

. . .

[. . .]

Revelation of a (petite) resthome resident who used to work in department stores:

Her family emigrated from Germany because of increasing anti-Semitism, and she was there for Kristallnacht when they burned the synagogue in the town where she had lived in.

"Seeing the flames like that is something you never forget," she told me.

When she said that, she had been telling me that years ago they put up a plaque commemorating that and the town had invited her back, but she didn't even reply to the invitation.

"They didn't want me and they didn't get me the first time," she was like, "so why should I give them a second chance."

Sight leaving my one resthome job the other night:

A (laid back) (older) (black) woman in a wheelchair in sunglasses and with a big scarf wrapped all around her head and neck and shoulders, just hanging outside the liquor store as it's closing, singing "O Holy Night" at the top of her lungs to the pretty empty street.

And, she didn't seem insane, just bored, and maybe doing things in her own style.

Idea of some resthome residents, after a recent discussion group.

The other week I bumped into some resthome residents after they had attended the weekly discussion group, where the topic that week had been the impending legalization of recreational marijuana in our state.

They were saying that for the January discussion group, since that stuff would be legal then, that they should bring some in and smoke it while they talk.