GOT CROWD?

       Yowzers. Just when you think you've seen it all, they shake things up in the soup kitchen. The annual "Crowd Fest" is in town this weekend, so I had to take a detour just to get there, and then I had to squeeze thru orange cones to get into the front parking lot because the back lot was locked—don't want those Fest people using our lot. So the morning began with a twist. Joey said, "That's my Miss Joy; I can just see you squeezing thru those cones!"

       Joey was at his station, rolling out the frozen foods he'll serve for dinner. Lunch was well underway, and I needed to make 28 sack lunches. I used to think those were for shelter residents who went out to their jobs during the week, but that was wrong. Those sack lunches are for all the residents, and that's all they get for lunch on weekdays. Wouldn't you just die?—that's the first thing that comes to my mind—ham 'n cheese, turkey 'n cheese, chips (of various natures), a cookie, and a soda, five days a week.

       The bread is seldom soft because it's been donated because it's not super fresh; the chips are often stale, and the sweets range from donated muffins and gooey blueberry croissants, to old cookies. Most of the soft drinks have Xs marked on their caps, indicating they've reached their expiration dates. I have to haul myself up and remind me that this is what we have, and this is what I can give them.

       There's a new guy in the kitchen, Kyle. He's muscular and handsome… and no doubt fresh from prison. He worked hard the whole 3 hours I was there. He scrubbed pots, he cleaned out the deep fryer (a major effort), he mopped. He and Joey get along really well and, truth be told, Kyle cost me some of my Joey time today. But I'm thankful for Joey to have so much help with the heavy stuff.

       Took my hors d'oeuvres in and showed them to Joey. I said, "There are SEVENTY of these!" I'm not getting caught short like last week with the deviled eggs. Joey grabbed one, popped it in his mouth and said, "Now there's 69."

       We had biscuits, sausage gravy, eggs, bacon, fruit salad, and those little hors d'oeuvres. Mr. Picky stuck up his nose at my creations, but I called his bluff. "You don't want one of my hors d'oeuvres?" I whined. He put on his bashful grin and took one. They're all just big babies underneath.

      One of those big babies asked after my daughter today. I wanted to say, "She moved to Zimbabwe!" He's really, really pretty too… Just puts a chill in a mom's heart.

       Our new door-unlocker lady was in the kitchen often. She and Joey talked about many of the residents, and I learned a lot about shelter life that has eluded me. Bed #7 was tested with a breathalyzer, and failed, so he's gone. Bed #12 drank his way out as well. Bed #22 is "probably faking that limp," so he can stay longer. The door lady and Joey disagreed on that one. Alcohol seems to be the biggest burden our residents face. One beer can cost them their bed. I wonder if the work-release prisoners have as much problem with that.

       So the lady was in the kitchen, Kyle was in the kitchen, Joey and I were certainly there, and then another social worker came in saying he needed to cool off—it's too hot in the front of the building. NO WONDER everybody's hanging out in the kitchen today; we had the only really good air conditioning!

       I saw a child at lunch and heard his voice, but he was unfamiliar, and we did not have opportunity to interact. I did have the pleasure of interacting with many of the residents, and they are so delightful. Two fellows asked for a second plate of food! Joey said they could have them. I hate it when I have to seek him out to see if it's okay to give somebody food! I'll be making executive decisions in the near future.

       Well, those 28 sack lunches came together, I made a batch of fruit salad, served 18 work-release plates, and 25 resident plates. Then I peeled potatoes for the dinner menu. Anna came through the back door just as I was attacking a pile of onions—Heaven-sent angel!

       About that time Joey said, "We didn't get to listen to our music today, Miss Joy!" The music was there, but we didn't get to enjoy it together. I never knew that little kitchen could be so crowded, and so busy! And you want to come too… I don't THINK so!