Steve Maskery
Old Oak
My partner has got involved with the local Food Bank. Whilst there are no vast swathes of housing estates in decline in this neck of the woods, it is not a prosperous area and there are a surprising number of people who live in pretty primitive domestic situations. And of course, some of them have complex problems. The food bank gives them somewhere to go for a cuppa and exchange their vouchers for food and other essential supplies.
For example, there is Cat Lady. She lives alone with a million cats. It must be pretty unpleasant in there. But she spends most of her tokens on cat food. Who are we to say Non? And there is the alcoholic guy we have met on a few occasions, drunk as a lord at 10am. Nice enough chap, a philosopher. He insisted on giving us a book about Aristotle, in French.
Anyway.
She was on shift this afternoon and asked if I would make a cake. So yesterday I donned the pinny and make a trad English Swiss Roll (if that is not too much of a contradiction, generally unkown round here) and a dozen carrot and pineapple muffins.
"Ooh la-la!" was the general welcome as she entered, until the Boss arrived and said they were no longer allowed to sell home-made cakes. Quoi? Given thatr they were already on plates, she agreed that, for today, they could be sold. "Magnifique gateaux!", so I'm led to believe. But what a shame, eh? Something that adds just a little bit of pleasure to the people most in need in our community, and we are not allowed to do it.
Not just bonkers, but sad.
S
For example, there is Cat Lady. She lives alone with a million cats. It must be pretty unpleasant in there. But she spends most of her tokens on cat food. Who are we to say Non? And there is the alcoholic guy we have met on a few occasions, drunk as a lord at 10am. Nice enough chap, a philosopher. He insisted on giving us a book about Aristotle, in French.
Anyway.
She was on shift this afternoon and asked if I would make a cake. So yesterday I donned the pinny and make a trad English Swiss Roll (if that is not too much of a contradiction, generally unkown round here) and a dozen carrot and pineapple muffins.
"Ooh la-la!" was the general welcome as she entered, until the Boss arrived and said they were no longer allowed to sell home-made cakes. Quoi? Given thatr they were already on plates, she agreed that, for today, they could be sold. "Magnifique gateaux!", so I'm led to believe. But what a shame, eh? Something that adds just a little bit of pleasure to the people most in need in our community, and we are not allowed to do it.
Not just bonkers, but sad.
S