We just arrived home after 3 shifts as mashgichim (kosher supervisors) at an assisted living facility here. I say three, because we had to be there Friday at 2 p.m. (at least, my D. H. had to; I came later). We stayed overnight in the mashgichim apartment, had ourselves a nice Friday night Shabbat dinner (we brought our blech) after D.H. locked up the freezers, coolers and kitchens (there are three: milchig, fleishig, and in the middle separating the two, a pareve, baking kitchen).
Shabbat in the summer is lo-oooooong, ending after 9:15 p.m., so it is a bit hard: we have to walk up three flights of stairs to check each of three pantries and dining rooms, check the silverware to make sure it's the right kind for the coming meal--either fleishig or milchig--and make sure everything is just so.
D. H. did most of the supervising, because my legs were not in great shape (I used to do this hashgacha myself, years ago). So I stayed in the apartment most of the day, read the parsha, and read a memoir of a Jewish writer's mother in Poland just before and at the start of the Holocaust.
I am extremely tired now, but I wanted to post for Nablopomo, so I am.
Lailah tov, and goodnight.