One lone smoker stood outside the shelter this morning as I scurried in with coat, scarf and gloves. Our venerable door unlocker was nowhere to be seen. A man and I waited for her in the lobby… and we waited. Then, my favorite pre-release saw us standing out there and let us in! I do have a crush on that boy.
Joey was rustling up pizza and baked beans. The fridge had only 12 sack lunches, so I started on 33 more, or 66 sandwiches… It went well, and when I finished Joey was asking for input on the dinner menu. He's making pork chops. He thought some instant mashed potatoes would be nice with pork chops but, you know, there's that 50-pound sack of potatoes in the walk-in fridge, and I thought they ought to be used, so he hauled the big sack to the peeling sink for me. Have I mentioned the dearth of tools in that kitchen? They do have a peeler, but it doesn't work.
It took me 20 minutes to go to K-Mart and back. The new peeler works well. I peeled about 20 pounds of potatoes; Joey had to lift the big pot to the prep table for me. A young woman who is a real volunteer came in while I was shopping, and she and I put together 30 PBJ sacks. She did all of the serving while I peeled potatoes, then she helped me cube them. I left them in her trusty hands for the cooking—our plan was to boil them, then add milk, butter, salt and pepper.
My favorite fellow was leaving the dining room when I returned from shopping, and I gave him a hug. He wanted to know what wonderful thing was I making for his dinner. I said, "homemade mashed potatoes, no meat!"
"You remembered," he smiled. Of course, I remembered, don't be silly.
Sadly, there is no means of mashing potatoes in that kitchen. I hope nobody's upset about the change.
Joey gave me a full report on learning. He's at level 3, and he was upset, thinking he wanted to be number one. I asked him what level he started on, and he said "one." So I pointed out that 3 shows great improvement. He says reading and spelling are coming so much easier for him now! Isn't it amazing what a little effort can do? He's still reading the book, but I could tell he hadn't done much with it this week. He did write something for me! I've been nagging him to write since last spring, and finally he did—he even told his teacher that I had asked him to write. Sadly, he forgot to bring it, just as he often forgets to take his new spelling list home from school. Somehow, things always get done, but if I were his mama, I'd worry myself silly. That child "almost bought a phone this week, but the guy wanted $150 for it, and after that he said I'd have to pay every month…"
"Joey," I said, "you want a pay-as-you-go phone, remember?" We've had this conversation so many times.
Mr. Wilson was of good humor today, I just didn't have an opportunity to enjoy him.
I was 3-1/2 hours getting back to my car, but before I left, Joey gave the other volunteer and me an earful about SEX in modern times. He doesn't understand why girls are walking around half naked these days. "When I was growing up," he whined, "little girls wore ruffled dresses and little Mary Jane shoes. Now they just want to show everything!" I'm tempted to chuckle at his old-man airs, knowing Joey is well under 30, but he's right. When he was growing up, little girls did have modesty. One day they had it, and the next it was gone. I remember. It was just gone.
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