AUGUST 1

       Well, well, well. Kyle greeted me at the back door when I lugged in 3 gallons of chocolate pudding. By the time I unloaded and looked around, it was obvious that we were a large group again this week. Joey introduced me to a young woman who was helping. He said Anna couldn't come this afternoon, and would I mind if Lucy helped me make the sack lunches... silly boy. We knocked those 27 lunches out in jig time, then put together 25 PBJ sacks. During all of that, Kyle was mostly stationed at the chicken sink, and Joey was scurrying around so that I couldn't tell exactly what he was doing. He has a large cut on one hand, so he wasn't able to do some things.

       There was no "menu" for lunch today. Joey served some deep-fried corn dogs and French fries, but most of the plates were made up of dishes left from yesterday—everything from sausage and eggs, to burritos. And I used the deep fryer by myself! Thank you, thank you very much... oh that's why my shirt smells so funky...

       Earlier in the week I told my husband I was going to make butterscotch pudding for the shelter this week—with whipped topping! "No! He said. "Nobody likes butterscotch! You've gotta make chocolate."

       So I made chocolate. Just before the first meal, I spooned it into little bowls with generous dollops of whipped topping. I put those inviting desserts on the serving shelf and waited. To my disappointment, about a third of the pre-release folks were out on family passes today. Mr. Picky stopped to look at the puddings. "There's no onion in that," I said. He smiled and walked away.

       Later I found him again at the serving area, looking as if he needed something. "Can I chop up some onions for you, Darlin'?"

       He's growing on me. Cutest grin. Leaving next month...

       The shelter's homeless had a much larger turn-out, but Joey was expecting a dearth of them as well, "Because it's the first of the month, and they just got their checks." Apparently, a fresh check will lure one away from the shelter dining room. Anyway, we had pudding left over.

       I sighed and said, "I told my husband I wanted to make butterscotch pudding, and he told me nobody likes butterscotch..."

       FOUR PEOPLE shouted in unison, "I love butterscotch." Then Joey said something about next week when I bring butterscotch. I dunno.

       Because of his cut, Joey had to get help opening several dozen cans of green beans for the evening meal. In fact, I think he cut his hand on a can before I got there. About 90 minutes after the pot of beans began to simmer Kyle said, "What's burning?" It was the beans. We tried to salvage some, but the burnt taste had ruined them all. I was moved by feelings of teamwork, as Kyle held up the huge pot and I scraped out the beans. We wanted so to save them. Only now do I recall that he's not a "Sunday lady," or even a volunteer... but we're certainly on the same team.

       Joey and I didn't have any "our time" again this week. I did find him alone long enough to ask about school. He said it's going fine. As far as I know, the only thing he's studying is vocabulary.

       Giving eye contact to the residents has become easy, but this has been a long road. I guess I used to feel ashamed or embarrassed for them, so I wanted to give them a bit of anonymity. Now, they feel like friends or neighbors. Me too.

       After 2-1/2 hours I'd done all the damage I could do. I gathered up my things and heard, "Oh, I hate the sound of that purse; my sugar dumplin' is going home!"

       "Joey," I smiled, "your sugar dumplin'  is pooped!"

       ...but in a good way.