It’s been one of those days, one that came in the midst of one of those weeks, in one of those months during one of those pandemics, and so on. Yes, the refrigerator in the saute station was down, and yes, the vacuum packing machine needs parts in time for us to get this Friday’s hospital donations packed, and yes, the reason this email is so late today is that the computer that we got to replace the crashed former computer is still filling its coffers with thousands of old emails (at least I hope that’s why it’s still running so slowly.) And it’s a rough day here, to be sure. But it’s a rough day that’s been punctuated by glimpses into other people’s rough days, and those days are making my day look like a cakewalk. I could really go for some cake.
There’s been some death today, and some pain, and some intense fear, most of which I’ve had the privilege of watching from a relatively safe distance. So without going into unpleasant detail, I’m writing to say to you that if you’re experiencing any of it yourself, firsthand, here’s some love from us. Whether you’ve known us since Feast was tiny or whether we’re nearly strangers to you, some days it’s nice to be reminded that there are other people out there who wish you well, and we do.
Here’s a little bit about what we’re doing this week, in case you ignored Sunday’s email, but I’ll keep it to a few lines and a few accompanying links:
There’s our delivery to the crew at TMC coming up this Friday:
There’s our wine tasting this Saturday:
There’s our hub delivery on Saturday to the north and northwest:
And the other one on Sunday to the south and southeast:
and then just the plain old menu.
And that’s all well and good, but ultimately, know we’re here for you, and know how grateful we are that you’ve been here for us, and let’s all go out and be there for someone else at some point today. It’s a rough one for someone you know, I’m sure, and it’ll make a difference.
A Grateful Doug and all the other Grateful People at Feast