We revisited the excellent Jean’s Place for breakfast this morning; they are the best pancakes I have ever had. My pancake days are mostly over, but I had eggs over light with toast and home fries. They were great.

The food is exceptional there, and the atmosphere is warm and inviting.

You might recall we visited Jean’s Place a lot during the early and frightening pandemic days and did what we could to help them.

This is a community place; everyone there seemed to know everyone else there, we were well treated and had a great breakfast, but I also felt very much like I an outside. Nobody there recognized us or remembered who we were.

They were very thankful for our help, which they said helped them get through the worst days of the pandemic. That was very nice to hear.

They are back on their feet and then some.

The only thing in Jean’s that had changed were the staff, and wooden blinds hung up in front of each window to block out the bright sun. There were signs on each one asking customers not ever to touch them.

Otherwise, nothing has changed, except for some of the staff and a few photos on the walls..

It was great to see Jean’s booming again; there was hardly space for our car in the lot.  it was tense then, but they soldiered on through it all.

During the first months of the pandemic, I was always eating at Jean’s. We pushed takeout foods, and I set up a dozen catering treks to the Mansion.

It was a bit of a bittersweet visit.

Today I came in as a stranger; to my knowledge, no one there knew me or recognized me.  They did all know each other. But I also felt proud. We did a lot of good for Jean’s and helped them when they most needed help.

It was a pleasure. The deck is stacked against small businesses and restaurants like Jeans. They need to survive; it seems clear that they are.

It felt strange at first, then natural to be back and unrecognized. But in the work I love to do, you learn when to come and when to go. Helping isn’t the same as belonging.

I like the group that assembles there, but I’m not one of the gang. They look at me oddly, sensing I’m not one of the tribe. And I do know my place. As near as I can recall, there is no group or gang that I belong to.

That is my life, in a sense, a wheel that keeps turning and turning.

I’m used to this; I call it the refugee phenomenon. If you were not born and raised here, you would always be another, a stranger outside of the tent, a refugee.

I felt the same way in New Jersey, where everyone is born elsewhere. Jean’s was a club I wouldn’t have minded joining.

It’s not an uncomfortable place for me, this position in life; I think of my life as a river of change. People come in and out and come and go.

I don’t hang on to people, and people don’t hang on to me. But I meet the most wonderful people along this curious path.

My life is chock full of now.

Jean’s place is a warm staff, incredibly hard-working – they know the names of everyone who comes in there and do a lot of social work in the rough and tumble little city of Hoosick Falls.

I miss the sense of danger and adventure Jean faced after the pandemic hit.  They are tough and resilient. They got through it, as good as new and better.

But Jean’s will never be just another restaurant to me. It speaks of, another time, a vanishing sense of community. Jean is a fixed point in a dizzying world. The community absolutely thrives there.

I’ve never seen a single rich person come in or a fancy car in the lot.

Jean is a working person’s eatery.

And no one will ever top their staff or their pancakes.

I did feel some melancholy in there, but it will be gone by dusk.

I think I was born to be an outsider; people don’t stick to me for too long. I’m growing into it.

My daughter and granddaughter are coming next weekend, and I wanted to buy her some art supplies.

After Jean’s, we went to Bennington to an art store to get her some painting supplies. I hope to do some painting with her, and so does Maria.

This time of year, there won’t be any apple picking or hanging out in the pasture for too long – it’s cold, and there is ice and snow.

I appreciate Emma coming up here with Robin to see me, and I haven’t been able to get down to New York City much. I’m going to get some cool graphic novels for her as well. Feels like a creative visit coming.

We’ll be ready. I pick up some graphic novels at Battenkill Books tomorrow.