NO TWO ALIKE

       Every Sunday at the shelter kitchen is as different from the others as can be. The clientele change, the food changes, the weather and our moods change. The pain is the only constant, though I continue to be surprised when my body protests after a few hours there. Miss Lillian certainly deserves a lot of credit for the whole days she puts in—mopping too! She's a really sturdy-looking woman, though…
       To my dismay, she was there this morning, but to my relief, so was Joey. Lillian was just putting in a couple of extra hours (gee, I'm glad I don't have to do that on my real job). She'd brought a very small child with her—a distant relative who is permanently in her care. In my personal circle, we don't have those kinds of situations, and we are rarely, if ever, fully aware of how many people do. Anyway, she finished her extra hours shortly after I got there, which was fine by me. Country 'n western it is!
       Joey's drama class—I waited 2 weeks for the report. It wasn't good. My boy was the only minority there, the class was totally Shakespeare, and he doesn't know beans about Shakespeare. "I just felt illiterate!" he cried. So I gave him a micro-lesson on how uppity folks in the 19th century had nothing better to do than study elocution, gavottes, and leg crossing, so their language was strickly a fluke of that small culture and place in time. People who understand it have to learn how! But blaming himself—no, no, no. He does have three upcoming classes that were included in the series he paid for, and the others appear more appealing and doable. I'll get back to you.
       His final GED exam for this quarter is next week, and he's really proud of his work, saying even today, "plus, now I know how to spell redundant!" He wants to bring in the list of words he's learned, so I can see it.
       The air conditioning was broken in the kitchen. It was working in the dining room, but we had the deep fryer in the kitchen… I took a 1-minute break in the walk-in refrigerator, and I told Joey about it a little later. "Miss Joy," he informed me, "the freezer is much better!"
       Can opener. Not. "Joey," I said, "this really pisses me off! I'm tempted to take that can opener home!"
       But Joey and One and the upstairs social worker assured me they would push for installation this week. The AC, sadly, is now on the same "fix-it" list, and the handyman is taking long enough for the small stuff! …my shirt smells like deep-fry.
       We served corn dogs and fried potato wedges—plus a dollop of canned fruit. I could not believe it but there is a woman with two little children staying there now—and they're vegetarians! So those children got a small handful of fruit chunks and some fried potatoes for lunch (and maybe a PBJ, I didn't watch). It's one thing for an adult to choose veggies-only, but to deny one's children protein seems somehow abusive.
       Our babies are still there, and I had the pleasure of chipping up their food (and removing the gooey corn dog batter). They had milk, cheese, and crackers, too... and they are just so cute.
       Interestingly, Joey mentioned that the pre-release folks have "not been themselves" for more than a week. He feels like "something's in the air" that he can't get a handle on. He's mentioned it to One, but One doesn't see it. They were awfully quiet today. Maybe it's the heat.
       So that's the best any of us could do today—One made himself fairly scarce (AC in the office is working)—and Joey was almost faint with the heat… so there wasn't any jumping and jiving. Stay cool.