It was blocked by a big kitchen garbage bag, full of half eaten food, covered with my folding, wooden chair.
The contents were primarily Mexican style foods, such as Tabasco sauce, spices and half a package of taco shells. But it was also Asian foods, such as rice crackers, packets of broth, rice sugar candy, etc.
I fed the rice crackers, taco shells and some evil-smelling-spiced snack food to the pets.
I wondered if some local person, who reads my blogs, had left it. But the most likely candidate was the homeless man.
The best thing in the haul was two plastic bags, full of long grained brown rice: nearly five pounds.
This morning, Porkchop was barking, so I went out in the alley to look.
There was the homeless man. He handed me three eggs, an apple, 3 Little Debbie donuts and a perfectly-good nonstick pancake griddle.
I thanked him. He had, indeed, brought the food.
I thanked him and brought the food in. I put on some sweat pants and went back outside, but he was already gone.
I'm going to make apple pancakes, and was going to ask him if he wanted some. I'll wait, and see if he comes back, but I doubt it.
He pointed out that tomorrow is the 1st of the month, which is when many people move into new digs. So the trash this week will be full of move-out stuff. I'll be more thorough, as I pass through the alleys on my way to the radio station.
I'm going to ask him if he wants to collect stuff and store it here, so we can have a yard sale in April, when the weather gets warmer.
He has very interesting stories. I'll tell you some of them later. He is an alcoholic. He's disabled. He's a veteran. He was employed full time in air conditioning repair. He had a nice home and he had a vehicle.
Now, he's a wanted man, with multiple warrants. He's very sick and has no income. He sleeps, most nights, in a cemetary.
He's a good man in bad circumstances. He's so far off the grid, he doesn't see any way to get benefits, health care, subsidized housing, etc.
He doesn't complain about his circumstances, except when he's cold and wet. The other night, we had a serious rain storm, which turned to snow. He got soaked through. His pants were frozen to him, and he had to have help, from a lady at the laundromat, to get his pants off to put them in a drier. And the owner of the laundromat had reset the drier timers to less than ten minutes, so it cost him a lot of money to get his clothes dry.
I'm hoping to interview him for the radio, but that's not my primary motive for talking with him. We've been talking for about a year. He comes by, hunting aluminum cans to sell, while I'm in the empty lot, gardening. We just started chatting.
I think he's surprised I talk to him. He actually thanks me for my time, after I've dragged 2 lawn chairs out into the empty lot, given him a cup of coffee with artificial sweetner and a cigarette, and sat with him in the sun, listening to his stories.
We don't listen. And that's all most people really need or want: just hear me.
I hope he comes back today.
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