The "cold" that kept me home last week is still dogging me, but it's a sinus infection, I'm on meds, and the doctor said it wouldn't hurt me to go in this morning, so I did. Missing a Sunday reinforced how much I love that kitchen and those people.
Joey was giving instructions to the cutest little girl, about 21, when I arrived. She's come in 3 days now, working off her community service. This child has already spent a year in prison and openly says "I never want to go back there!" Why she has already erred again (I don't know how) is a mystery. Her community service is in lieu of a week in jail. She's happy to work at the shelter. Still, I wonder how she's going to keep herself away from her troubles. I told her about Ali Baba and his 16 years. Her eyes grew wide.
Speaking of that, Ali Baba has been returned to prison… and a big ol' bonjour to him too. Raise your hand if you're surprised.
I told Joey I'd been in bed with my infirmity all week and that I would not be doing anything strenuous today—mostly just hanging around because I missed the place so much. "They missed you, Miss Joy," he said.
"Who missed me?"
"Them," he said, nodding toward the empty dining room. "They missed you. They don't care that much for me."
"Well, they surely prefer you over the other cook," I reminded him. He had to agree.
We served pizza and soup. Joey and his helper had made the soup from the mystery box. I added a few fresh potatoes, some peas, and a few cans of chicken. There wasn't much left when lunch was over.
Joey filled a large aluminum pan with peas for tonight's dinner. He put a half-pound chunk of butter on top, then sprinkled sugar over them. "Sugar???" I questioned.
"I'm killin' 'em," he grinned. "They'll die happy."
Lunch went over well, and a few people asked if they could have soup as well as the plate of leftovers they had chosen. Yes, they could. I handed several bowls over the counter while Little Missy watched with interest.
"Don't ever do this when Miss Lillian's here," I warned her.
"Oh!" she cried, "Now I know I'm never coming here unless Joey's here."
Apparently "the word" on Lillian gets around.
We had no children today. Angry Child is blissfully spending the day with friends or relatives. His mother was front and center with her special requests: she always asks for certain pastries (donated foods we use for the sack lunches). She eats those instead of the meals. Then she comes back for half-n-half and sugar for her coffee, as if we are waiting to serve her and she is our only concern. She reminded me that her child would be there for dinner tonight, and I told her I'd left his yogurt in the refrigerator.
The other little boys might have been at church, but I left their goodies in the fridge as well.
When the few women with extra requests finally settled down, some of the men in the dining room began a raucous round of laughter. "Hey!" I shouted, "Cheer down in there! You're bringing me down. I been sick!" (I missed them too.)
Mr. Huggy came around, just as I was running out of steam. He got soup and pizza and shot the breeze for a few minutes. Wanted to tell me about the boo-boo on his hand. He's a trouper.
Well... Ima go fall down now. It was worth the woozy feelings and wobbly legs—I'd do it again in a heartbeat.
1 comment:
Glad you got back.
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