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This morning I had zwieback. I walked right past the ovens, did a nose double take, made a mental note of the tickets required and bee-lined for the food ticket tent. Six toasty-warm bunlets of bready goodness. A couple of creamy butters to go and I made for the first seat available.

Saturday morning, kicked out of my home by good-hearted volunteers coming to slop paint on my walls, and floors, and fixtures.  We are going on month 3 of total chaos in my apartment. It actually has me starting to feel a little bit depressed. I have to write this to be honest, it is a love-hate relationship with volunteers. Well-meaning, with great intention, wanting to help, taking that action step of service, exposing their members to the plight of downtown, to the good work of Community Benefit Organizations… Every other weekend I awake, make a donut run, pick up bits and pieces of my house. Actually of late, I’ve cut the pretenses, its dirty and that is the final word. It is exhausting, answering questions, making sure everyone has a job, got the right color, a brush. Funny things too, taking a picture for facebook, rallying the group to sing ‘Happy Birthday,’ card boarding up a broken window, letting the man do it his way because he knows best and on…

Is there another way or is this the best way? God bless Habitat because they do everything by volunteer labor. Volunteers undo what other volunteers did wrong. Volunteers get it right and it moves forward, at the pace of a snail at times.  But I love Habitat, and being the latest elected Board Member, I’m incredibly proud to represent them in our cmomunity.  Perhaps volunteer coordinating is really just a wonderful gift, right up there with working with Jr. Highers in my book.

Which takes me back to zwieback, it is a gift to the belly and this morning, to my soul.


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