Girlfriend, I'd bend your ear to heck and back with details of today's kitchen… if you'd let me!
Joey and I made plans last week to make a real soup this week, and to serve a Caesar salad with it. He was ordering the bags of salad, and I was bringing the dressing, sliced red onion, and cans of black olives. Joey was also going to have chicken or ground beef ready for the soup—I wanted it to be hearty. It was one of those best-laid plans.
I stopped at the grocery for Trix yogurts, gummy bears, and bubble gum for our children. I was high on life when I stepped into the kitchen and put my loot on the prep table.
"Oh, Miss Joy," Joey began, "we don't have any salad."
I don't remember if he failed to place the order from the supply pantry, or what, but there was no salad, and Joey had not remembered to thaw the five-pound tube of ground beef. The only frozen chicken he had was in a 5-pound frozen square. We put it in the microwave on "thaw," but I didn't have much faith in it. Besides, it was WAY too much chicken! (Before any damage was done, we stopped the microwave and put the chicken back in the freezer.)
Joey had prepared a large sack of canned goods that he thought would make a good soup. His choices were excellent: corn, tomato-basil soup, lots of chicken/noodle/rice soups, tomato sauce, and diced tomatoes. We added my red onion, a can of refried beans, two cups of diced frozen potatoes, and a half pound of green beans. It looked like we might succeed, but the "hearty" wasn't there—until I found a CASE of tiny cans of chicken in the pantry! That was the final touch.
Honey, I enthusiastically opened a dozen or more cans, saying, "Look! We have a can opener! Somebody take our picture!" Did you know??? Our new can opener will open a TINY can of chicken OR a half-gallon can of fruit. It will! What a marvel is our new can opener—did I mention we have a new can opener?
"I use it all the time," Joey said. "And you know? Sometimes I even forget we have another can opener!"
That's because they don't have another can opener… but I'm just gonna wallow in self satisfaction.
So we served fruit with our hearty soup, and we served fresh, buttery-tasting croissants that were donated just this morning. Some of them even had ham inside and cheese crusts. It was so much fun serving up a lunch that I was proud of.
Far into the homeless folks' lunch hour, Joey remarked, "It's so quiet in the dining room today!" And I thought he was saying that our folks were unusually down and out, or some other pall had fallen over the crowd, but he went on to say, "They love the soup. They're eating!"
I had to remind myself that I only witness one meal a week, while he is there for many. We were so pleased with "the quiet." Too, a lot of folks came to the counter for extra soup and croissants, and there were many compliments. I ate a bowl too—dunking my croissant in the soup. Joey observed, "This is the first time I ever saw you eat here, Miss Joy." Well, duh; it was good.
The cute little community-service girl (40-something, but still a "girl" to me) came again today. She made sack lunches and PBJs, and did other chores as Joey assigned them. I know, I know, we're not there to have a good time, but we just had the best time!
Angry child was polite today, asking if we had yogurt. I was pleased to give all of the children yogurt, gummy bears, and bubble gum. They're all boys this month, ranging from 7 to 11. It must be so hard to be in school with classmates who live "at home."
Well… we are planning to serve up the "good soup" most Sundays, now that cooler weather is here. I hope they never bring in that pre-fab frozen stuff again. Who wants a bowl of soup that already smells like bell peppers?
I know I'll think of other highlights, but I have work to do, and art to make, and you'll just have to deal with it. Thanks a million for coming by! Wish you could go with :)
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
DO WE EVER GET IT?
Now that we're having record low temps, that big stash of frozen soup is gone. Nobody's complaining. Joey made deep-fried chicken nuggets and jalapeno/cheese peppers. I opened two half-gallon cans of fruit chunks (by myself), and we called it lunch.
Either crime is up or the system is just cycling, because the pre-release population has increased markedly (up to maybe a dozen all told). The homeless, sadly, have increased as well, so we had what I used to think of as "the usual crowd" today. Maybe it was just me, but the homeless had a low-down feeling about them that I haven't sensed before. Even tall, handsome "One-front-tooth" was missing his grin.
I printed out a picture of my grandfather for our new Jewish fellow, so he could have a visual of the "family nose" I boasted about last week. He's such a nice guy. I just don't get it.
We needed 34 sack lunches ... ew... but a new "community-service" person came, and I had help with those! She's just the cutest thing--maybe 40--and just as "able" as can be (in my eyes), but she's applying for disability. She's been working since she was 14 and says she's ready to "just do nothing." Lifestyles. I just don't get it.
We all had fun, though. Joey even turned up the CW music so we could rock out
The gatekeeper has changed again! This one is adorable, too, and introduced himself as something like "senior advisor." He does have a more professional air than the others. I still miss One, and this constant changing of the guard keeps me alert ("Is Joey here?").
I asked the community-service worker how many hours she had left to serve, and she said 40. So I suggested she come back during the week and knock those out. "No! she said firmly. "I'm not coming here unless Joey is here."
"I heard that," I said. "You and I are soul sisters." So I guess I'll have help with the sack lunches for a few more Sundays.
Vegetarians... gone.
Angry child with blitzed mom... still there. Didn't see Mom today. I took kiddie yogurts and gave them to four young fellows. Angry child also got a pack of bubble gum. I told him, "Hide it. Nobody else got one." Again, his hand found his pocket as if he's practiced that move often. Poor little guy. Joey said the child's mother just "fell out" on the sidewalk one day. We talked about how all children love their mothers, how that child might be better off in a stable home, how much responsibility and humiliation he feels for his mother, how twisted his chances are. He's a little boy; he deserves so much better. I just don't get it.
Either crime is up or the system is just cycling, because the pre-release population has increased markedly (up to maybe a dozen all told). The homeless, sadly, have increased as well, so we had what I used to think of as "the usual crowd" today. Maybe it was just me, but the homeless had a low-down feeling about them that I haven't sensed before. Even tall, handsome "One-front-tooth" was missing his grin.
I printed out a picture of my grandfather for our new Jewish fellow, so he could have a visual of the "family nose" I boasted about last week. He's such a nice guy. I just don't get it.
We needed 34 sack lunches ... ew... but a new "community-service" person came, and I had help with those! She's just the cutest thing--maybe 40--and just as "able" as can be (in my eyes), but she's applying for disability. She's been working since she was 14 and says she's ready to "just do nothing." Lifestyles. I just don't get it.
We all had fun, though. Joey even turned up the CW music so we could rock out
The gatekeeper has changed again! This one is adorable, too, and introduced himself as something like "senior advisor." He does have a more professional air than the others. I still miss One, and this constant changing of the guard keeps me alert ("Is Joey here?").
I asked the community-service worker how many hours she had left to serve, and she said 40. So I suggested she come back during the week and knock those out. "No! she said firmly. "I'm not coming here unless Joey is here."
"I heard that," I said. "You and I are soul sisters." So I guess I'll have help with the sack lunches for a few more Sundays.
Vegetarians... gone.
Angry child with blitzed mom... still there. Didn't see Mom today. I took kiddie yogurts and gave them to four young fellows. Angry child also got a pack of bubble gum. I told him, "Hide it. Nobody else got one." Again, his hand found his pocket as if he's practiced that move often. Poor little guy. Joey said the child's mother just "fell out" on the sidewalk one day. We talked about how all children love their mothers, how that child might be better off in a stable home, how much responsibility and humiliation he feels for his mother, how twisted his chances are. He's a little boy; he deserves so much better. I just don't get it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
GOT JOY?
Where to start? Sometimes I feel as if I did almost nothing on Sunday mornings, and other times I wonder how I did so much. Today it was much, and our CW station kept us revved up with the best of the best.
As I came in this morning, the gatekeeper was happy to announce that Joey was using the new can opener. At least three of us there feel like "our" can opener was something of a coup.
We made the soup, again, and served hot dogs with it. Joey spent most of the morning in the dining room, mopping, refilling utensil cups, cleaning windows… the kid knows when to make the best use of extra hands! And we had extra hands: a new community-service "volunteer" showed up around 11, and I put him to work finishing the 2 dozen sack lunches I'd started. Then Joey trained him on the PBJ sacks… It was nice being able to stand over the soup pot, cook some bow-tie macaroni to add to it, and use the tongs to put the dogs in their buns. My apron had a special official glow today.
Joey made a 99 on last week's vocabulary test—let's hear it for perseverance! He's still throwing "redundant" around like a pro—makes a mom so proud.
We served more people today than on any Sunday in months. The vegetarian family was there, but the child who wanted a hot dog last month did not ask for one today. His mother asked if there was meat in the soup; I allowed as how there was a little chicken in it; she turned up her nose. Then I offered her three left-over cold plates of cheese pizza. She took them. Later, the child came to ask for milk. I should have taken yogurts and fruits, but it had begun to feel so useless that I stopped. That was wrong.
"Angry child with blitzed mom" was happy today: his mother did not come to lunch when he did. Joey thought the child wouldn't like that, but I assured him that the child was quite content to not have his mother there to embarrass him. He sat with several adults and I thought he looked at peace. When he came to the counter, I sneaked him two little packets of gummy bears and told him to hide them. He slid them stealthily into his pocket. We had us a secret…
Got a new pre-release who bears my personal family nose, and I told him so. "I have ancestry with that nose," I said, "my grandfather, my father, my son, my grandson…"
"Jewish?" he asked, smiling.
"No doubt," I said, "but it hasn't been claimed in many generations. Still, we cannot deny our 'bergs, Hoovers, and 'steins."
He sensed that we had a bond—his enormous smile said so. And he's chronically ill, so he couldn't eat what we had prepared and was waiting for his wife to bring his lunch. HOW do these dear, intelligent, loving, people get so far off track as to spend a long time in prison? Why?
And our young "volunteer" today… just an average American boy… college, capable, and caught. Maybe he'll get a clue from meeting the pre-release folks who weren't smart enough to stop with a little community service.
As if on cue, the 3rd-floor social worker (Mr. Huggy) came for some lunch just before I left. Got a hug. He had a long report of what he's accomplished in the 2 weeks he's been gone—on the coast, working with hurricane victims.
There's enough joy to go around… and then some.
As I came in this morning, the gatekeeper was happy to announce that Joey was using the new can opener. At least three of us there feel like "our" can opener was something of a coup.
We made the soup, again, and served hot dogs with it. Joey spent most of the morning in the dining room, mopping, refilling utensil cups, cleaning windows… the kid knows when to make the best use of extra hands! And we had extra hands: a new community-service "volunteer" showed up around 11, and I put him to work finishing the 2 dozen sack lunches I'd started. Then Joey trained him on the PBJ sacks… It was nice being able to stand over the soup pot, cook some bow-tie macaroni to add to it, and use the tongs to put the dogs in their buns. My apron had a special official glow today.
Joey made a 99 on last week's vocabulary test—let's hear it for perseverance! He's still throwing "redundant" around like a pro—makes a mom so proud.
We served more people today than on any Sunday in months. The vegetarian family was there, but the child who wanted a hot dog last month did not ask for one today. His mother asked if there was meat in the soup; I allowed as how there was a little chicken in it; she turned up her nose. Then I offered her three left-over cold plates of cheese pizza. She took them. Later, the child came to ask for milk. I should have taken yogurts and fruits, but it had begun to feel so useless that I stopped. That was wrong.
"Angry child with blitzed mom" was happy today: his mother did not come to lunch when he did. Joey thought the child wouldn't like that, but I assured him that the child was quite content to not have his mother there to embarrass him. He sat with several adults and I thought he looked at peace. When he came to the counter, I sneaked him two little packets of gummy bears and told him to hide them. He slid them stealthily into his pocket. We had us a secret…
Got a new pre-release who bears my personal family nose, and I told him so. "I have ancestry with that nose," I said, "my grandfather, my father, my son, my grandson…"
"Jewish?" he asked, smiling.
"No doubt," I said, "but it hasn't been claimed in many generations. Still, we cannot deny our 'bergs, Hoovers, and 'steins."
He sensed that we had a bond—his enormous smile said so. And he's chronically ill, so he couldn't eat what we had prepared and was waiting for his wife to bring his lunch. HOW do these dear, intelligent, loving, people get so far off track as to spend a long time in prison? Why?
And our young "volunteer" today… just an average American boy… college, capable, and caught. Maybe he'll get a clue from meeting the pre-release folks who weren't smart enough to stop with a little community service.
As if on cue, the 3rd-floor social worker (Mr. Huggy) came for some lunch just before I left. Got a hug. He had a long report of what he's accomplished in the 2 weeks he's been gone—on the coast, working with hurricane victims.
There's enough joy to go around… and then some.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
SURPRIIIIISE!
Without further ado, we bring you... CAN OPENER! …applause …applause…
What a day! Joey and I opened three half-gallon cans—two for him, one for me. No muss, no fuss, no cuts! Joey was out sick a couple of days this week, so he'd had only one other opportunity to drive this new puppy around the block. Word has it that no one else has actually "used" it, but we celebrated.
Our gatekeeper remains the same. I gave him high praise for writing up and turning in the work order. Really nice fellow. I do miss One, and I hope he has occasion to work that shift again.
The crowd was small today—only 4 pre-release, and maybe a dozen residents. Only one child—poor little thing's mom is so winged out on drugs… that is one angry child, and why not?
I couldn't help but notice a new guy among the homeless residents—because he's gorgeous, looks like a movie star in his ball cap with sun glasses on top, and is as middle class as you'll find. I have so many questions about him, and Joey does too. Joey says I should make friends with him, so we can both know his story. Can't. Couldn't ever. Did give him seconds on everything :)
Drug mom wants to know him better too—hasn't got a prayer.
One other thing: As I crossed the parking lot this morning, a handsome young man walked out of the building and down the street, fully loaded with backpacks and, apparently, everything he owns. It was tempting to think he's just making an elective cross-country trek. Stories everywhere.
It was a great 3 hours; Joey even mentioned how much fun we'd had. I barely noticed putting together 29 sack lunches and making 21 extra sandwiches; time just passed, and so joyfully.
Amen.
Ain't she a beauty?
What a day! Joey and I opened three half-gallon cans—two for him, one for me. No muss, no fuss, no cuts! Joey was out sick a couple of days this week, so he'd had only one other opportunity to drive this new puppy around the block. Word has it that no one else has actually "used" it, but we celebrated.
Our gatekeeper remains the same. I gave him high praise for writing up and turning in the work order. Really nice fellow. I do miss One, and I hope he has occasion to work that shift again.
The crowd was small today—only 4 pre-release, and maybe a dozen residents. Only one child—poor little thing's mom is so winged out on drugs… that is one angry child, and why not?
I couldn't help but notice a new guy among the homeless residents—because he's gorgeous, looks like a movie star in his ball cap with sun glasses on top, and is as middle class as you'll find. I have so many questions about him, and Joey does too. Joey says I should make friends with him, so we can both know his story. Can't. Couldn't ever. Did give him seconds on everything :)
Drug mom wants to know him better too—hasn't got a prayer.
One other thing: As I crossed the parking lot this morning, a handsome young man walked out of the building and down the street, fully loaded with backpacks and, apparently, everything he owns. It was tempting to think he's just making an elective cross-country trek. Stories everywhere.
It was a great 3 hours; Joey even mentioned how much fun we'd had. I barely noticed putting together 29 sack lunches and making 21 extra sandwiches; time just passed, and so joyfully.
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
