I came downstairs and looked at the window this morning, and I saw a cute and gutsy little yellow finch starting at me a few inches from me right next to the glass. He saw me and stared, then went on eating.
He seemed fearless and hungry. He wasn’t the least bit afraid of me. It was a lovely way to start the day. He came back a few times, and then Zip began to crawling around, and the finch took off. I like my intrusion into the lives of birds.
The animal rights people e-mailing me (the Yay Jon Band and I) have quieted down for now. I told them of our decision to let Zip into the house on warm and cold nights.
It was a difficult decision, but the animal rights people have been so thoughtful, empathetic, and understanding about Zip that we met yesterday and made some decisions.
(In the above photo, Zip is getting the news about moving in.)
We will abandon the furniture in the living room and confine the dogs to the basement. Maria will sleep in her studios with Fate, and Zip will have the living room and the kitchen all to himself.
I know there are some mice and occasionally a rat running around there. According to the animal rights people, this would be the most humane thing to do. He may or may not be happy, but he will be as warm as a piece of whole-grain bread in the toaster.
Unfortunately, to make room for the very active Zip, Maria has decided that I need to move out of the house and sleep in Zip’s heated cat house. I can also use the rocking chair and extra blankets we put out there for Zip. He’ll have the wood stoves to keep warm.
She feels terrible about it, and so do I, but apart from missing her, the barn and the heated cat house will be comfortable places for me, better than an assisted care facility or nursing home. And in some ways, it’s better than our bedroom.
Maria says she can visit me twice or thrice daily to tie my shoes, ensure I’m fed and comfortable, and take my medicine. If it gets below zero, I can always crawl into the warm and cozy space Zip has made between some hay bales.
Going to the bathroom should be easy there is urine and fecal matter all around.
Maria says she’ll come and sleep with me on cold nights; the heated barn house can be expanded. Sadly, humans don’t grow fur in the winter like Zip; all animals do. I will need some sweaters and some canned food. I can even blog out there if I bring a computer and a plug.
We are grateful to the animal rights people for their kindness and compassion. They taught me a lot about honesty and empathy. It’s a tough decision, but Zip comes first, and we were persuaded to rethink our rigid position.
I am annoyed that Zip will get my favorite reading and sitting chair. The Yay Jon Band will approve, I am sure. They have been hoping for me to be nicer.
Fair is fair; just is just. I am told it is cruel for outdoor cats to live outdoors, so I am responding.
I do not consider myself abused or harmed by getting kicked out of my house. It’s noble of me, and I am eager for the people of animal rights to approve of me at long last. I need their approval for what I do.
I know this doesn’t mean I am not scum, as was suggested. But I am trying to be more caring like they are.
Life is all about change and being loved. Kindness brings kindness, and mean draws mean. Thanks for sticking with Zip and me through this difficult time. Maria is okay with it. It’s not what he seems to want, but no one cares about that.
Zip will get used to it.
The rain has stopped, and the sun has returned. I’m out with the camera tomorrow morning to explore. We have dinner guests on Saturday and Sunday, which is unusual for us.
We’re looking forward to it. I’ve got two good books to finish reading. Tonight, I’ve challenged Maria to a chess match. She’s up for it. That remarkable person I married is up to just about anything. It is never dull here.
Last night, I stopped at the Dollar Store in the rain to get some dog food for my Amish dog friend Tina and someone with dogs who needs canine food support. I do this regularly, but never at the Dollar Store.
It was too messy to drive to a supermarket.
I wanted to buy two big bags and expected to pay at least $50 or $60 for each one. I was raised to be a snob in many ways, and I’ve always avoided the Dollar Store; I didn’t trust the low prices and the atmosphere.
I’m a brand snob and thought I was above the dollar store. I sometimes confuse the most expensive thing with being the best. That isn’t very smart.
Maria, a born working girl, has no such reservations; she loves to shop at the dollar store.
My recent life has both humbled and awakened me, and I am happy about that. I needed to open up. That brought me love and too many good things to count.
I was shocked to buy two bags of very good dog food for $12 apiece. I couldn’t quite believe it. On the way out, I passed some Kleenex boxes for sale for about one-third of what I pay on Amazon. I also passed some Band-Aid boxes for less than half of what I have been paying for them.
I’m opening up to things, I am just realizing how closed up I have been. I’m glad to change.
I got religion at the Dollar Store last night. I’ll be back and never turn my nose up at it again.
On the way out, I passed the town’s car wash shining in the rain and color. I love Americana photos like this. Good on my camera for catching these colors in the dark.
If you judge a person by their dogs or cats, then Sumer Quickenton is a kind and sweet person with a great heart.
If you gauge a person by their stories, then Sumer’s life is one tragic explosion after another. She is fortunate to be alive.
She is 28 years old. I met her today in her apartment and liked her. She is articulate, honest, and in great need, with a horrific family and life history.
(above, Sumer with her dog Sally)
It is common for poor and younger people to get snared in the great American corporate legal and financial system. Once in, it takes luck and hard work to get out. Sumer is in.
She plans to get out.
I will write regularly about her and how much a food pantry means to her and many others in the coming weeks.
I am grateful she agreed to meet and talk with me as I enter the rapidly growing world of Food Pantries and the Army Of Good.
I’m writing because my small town has a small food pantry that feeds hundreds of people every week, and I want to talk to Sumer to understand better what drives so many people in my town and elsewhere to food pantries to feed their families and to hide it from the world.
Also, to support the pantry, the heroic effort of a small-town pastor to help the poor was a Christian idea often lacking in modern-day Christianity.
Although the pantry is booming, if that’s the right word, it’s something of a secret. Nobody who goes there is at ease talking about it. I respect their privacy; I intend only to bother them if they want to be bothered.
I’ve already established a great working relationship with the competent new Executive Director, Sarah Harrington. She gets it.
(The Cambridge Pantry Amazon Wish List we put up yesterday started with 17 items (multiple needs of some), sold out, and is now up again and down to nine. Please consider the new and remaining items.’
The Army Of Good has always succeeded in finishing off a wish list for a good cause, and this is a good cause, as is the Mansion and the refugee children. You can find the remaining items here. The list is different from yesterday; it lists food items that are not available from other sources: vegetable beef soup, creamy peanut butter, Bumble Bee Chunk light tuna, Progresso bread crumbs, Grated Parmesan cheese, Canned Shunk Chicken Breast in water, Kraft Ranch Dip & Dressing, French’s Classic Yellow Mustard, Zep Streak-Free Glass Cleaner.)
(Sumer with Jack)
A government report issued last year found that 44.2 million people lived in households with difficulty getting enough food to feed everyone in 2022, up from 33.8 million people the previous year.
Those families include more than 13 million children experiencing food insecurity, a jump of nearly 45 percent from 2021.
I understand why people are embarrassed to speak of their food needs. They feel great shame about not being able to feed their families.
Summer is the only person who goes to the pantry weekly and is willing to talk to me and be identified. I understand that pantry customers are embarrassed; I get it. Summer agreed to tell her story without hesitation or constraint; I admire her for that.
The visitors span all ages and social structures.
Sumer is determined to stay healthy and talks about how vitally important the food pantry is.
She has one child but has lived with up to seven. She takes in kids of parents who need help with addiction and other problems. With the food pantry, she is sure they could all be fed.
“I depend on it,” she says. It makes a huge difference in my life. I’m not sure what I would do without it.”
She says she is still determining what she would do without it. They ask no questions and make no demands.
Sumer has a job now, which she sees as temporary. It pays little.
She was a counselor for parents with troubled children in Vermont and loved the job. She briefly had some money to pay her bills.
There was trouble, and she had to leave the job. She needs a bit more training to get another job like that. There are many obstacles to that.
Like many young and poor people in America, she is snarled in a web of bills, fines, and obligations.
I know from my life as a reporter that when people get snared into drugs and addiction and legal issues, it is tough to get free and have the life they want. The system shuts them out and doesn’t like to let them back in.
Summer is brave and determined, but her face tells the story of her exhaustion, depression, and constant stress. It is no picnic living in America with debt and little income. The food pantry makes it possible for her.
“The pantry is so important to us,” she says, speaking of herself and her son Lucca. “The people there are very kind, and we can go every week, not just once a month. They have clean and nutritious food for us. I wish there were more meat available, but they do the very best that they can.”
She has suffered a great deal all of her life; she and her mother, who is dead now, both suffered from drug addiction. “She was very troubled but was my protector; I miss her,” she said. It didn’t sound to me that Sumer had much protection from anyone for most of her life.
She sometimes feels like she is often losing “pieces of my soul.”
Sumer said she sometimes sold pieces of herself to anyone who would pay for it, and she has dreams about her all-night walks through downtown Albany selling her body to strangers, sleeping in the streets. Addiction is a nightmare, she says; it can eat you alive.
She had a severe drug addiction but has been drug-free for the past three years and lives with her seven-year-old son and a stream of temporary kids in a small apartment house not too far from our farm. Sometimes, she has to feed them all.
(Above, soap donated by Cindy Casavant, Goat Lady, to the Cambridge Pantry, where soap is in constant demand. I brought it there this afternoon.)
I’m not trying to save Sumer or tell her how to live. But she has much to teach me, and I want to learn it.
Sumer and I both understand the value of boundaries.
This is about my work, the food pantry, and the Army Of Good. Sumer is a willing and articulate guide into this world for me. Maria came with me to meet Sumer; she had dogs and cats in her lap most of the time. They are what we call lovebugs. I said it was nice to see her smile, “the dogs usually do it for me,” she said.
We both left saddened at this young woman’s suffering.
I was touched by the fact that I only saw her wonderful smile when she had a dog or cat in her lap. Dogs are reliable judges of character to me; you can tell how they have been treated.
There is a lot of warmth and love in Sumer, but life has not given her a chance to experience much of it.
Her family and personal history are a horror story that I don’t need to detail.
I will join Sumer occasionally when she goes to the Cambridge Pantry to get food for her and her family, and I’ll stay in touch with her. I did fall in love with her adorable dogs; they both ended up in my lap, too.
I learned much about food deprivation, how it works, and how good people work hard to help others.
