IS IT SOUP YET?

       It is! It's soup!

       You know those 1-pound tubes of ground beef? Joey had one that was 4 pounds! He put a 4-gallon stock pot on the stove and I browned the meat. Joey has a nasty head cold, and anything I wanted to do was fine with him!

       I dug some onions out of a 100-pound sack in the walk-in fridge and an apronful of potatoes from another 100-pound sack. Joey found some pruny carrots and celery. I added two jars of spaghetti sauce, water, corn, macaroni, a gallon of green beans, a few peas and carrots from the cooler, and we called it soup! It was ONE HOUR from nothing to something. Oh! and I mixed up about a gallon of cornbread. Joey helped with the big pan. I thought it wasn't as good as it is from a cast-iron skillet, but people were eating it.

      My favorite fellow was there—he held the door as I came in, and said he was looking forward to having me cook up something good. It was just SAD to realize he doesn't eat beef. Little Moon Face had some of Aunt Mama's soup though. Wonder how it feels to get off the school bus from kindergarten and walk into the shelter?

       Mr. Wilson surely had the soup, but he fussed at me for not getting the cornbread out of the oven until he'd eaten his soup—we did have a bit of a time crunch. Besides whipping up all that food, I made 40 sandwiches for 20 sack lunches. There was no goofing off, though Joey and I fully enjoyed our jammin' country/western music.

       Late in the pre-release lunchtime, a surly man came to the counter and turned his nose up at the soup. "What kind is it?"

       Joey said, "Vegetable beef."

       The man wanted to know if he could have something else (we did have a large tuna/mac dish in the fridge), but Joey said, "No." The man left with nothing! I whispered to Joey about the tuna. Joey was quick to tell me he does not like that man, and he can't wait until the man leaves! I'm pretty sure Joey's world is often a scary place.

       Nobody came to the back door! The little man who'd been helping in the storage room has been denied that privilege. One has returned to his regular shift, and around 11:30 the young volunteer who's pregnant came in. She won't be pregnant much longer—Mr. Wilson was teasing her, and I'm telling you HE could be carrying triplets! Joey says his daughter brings him fried chicken and pizza.

       Mr. Wilson is a whole study in himself, with his devil-may-care attitude about his health. I imagine he thinks of his death as something that will just "take him" one day. I wonder if he understands that his diabetes and morbid obesity will chew him off, one leg at the time? I don't think he has entertained that version of the finale.

       Well… my feet and legs have entertained the finale of kitchen duty for today! Wonder what Map's making for dinner.