OFF WITH ITS HEAD!

       Tomorrow's Halloween, you know. In keeping with the season, I wore a "cat ears" headband to the shelter today, and I provided Joey with a funny hat—we think it might be a frog… His costume got rave reviews.
        As I came in from the car, a big jolly fellow near the door announced, "There's our lady who makes the wonderful soup!"
      "We're not having soup today," were some of the first words out of Joey's mouth, followed by, "Miss Lillian made soup yesterday."
       …so… hmm… is Lillian feeling the competition? Should I have worn some little cat claws to go with?
       Joey was making chicken nuggets and home fries. Period. There was nothing in the cooler for salad, and there was NO fruit—anywhere. It's just wrong to serve up a plateful of deep-fried finger foods "period." So we stewed over it for quite a while, and Joey said I might find some leftover broccoli in the cooler. I didn't. I did find a huge box of enormous cabbages!
       I brought out two heads and put them on the chopping block. With our largest chopping knife I hit the first head as solidly as I could, and to my surprise it just whacked apart! The whole thing was chopped and in an aluminum pan in less than a minute. Joey put a huge skillet on the stove, added a touch of oil, and fired it up. I dumped in the first of five rounds of chopped cabbage, and Joey sprinkled his favorite seasonings over it. As the batches were finished, we put them in a big serving pan. Each batch was its own creation (butter here, celery seeds there), and they blended together well. Within 20 minutes of finding the heads, they were ready to serve. Yes, we can make stone soup without "soup."
       Our pre-release seemed extra upbeat, raucous laughter again punctuating their conversations. Reminds me of the time Joey thought the group was too somber, right before three of them got tossed out. Just after that, their cheer returned. So last week, Ali Baba left, and the people began to laugh again. Is there a pattern here, or is it just me?
       Angry Child was away again. Joey says he thinks these excursions are helping the child a lot. I hope so. I made sure we got a jump on the kid's mom today, with her demands for certain pastries. She will hold up the line of hungry people, pointing to the pastry box (for sack lunches), and insisting that Joey keep digging until he finds her favorite. I mean, just whacko. So today, I asked Joey to get that woman's pastries out and set them aside, so there would be no waiting. When she came thru the line, I set the pastries in front of her. Mission accomplished. The other little boys were present today and eagerly took the yogurts, applesauces, bubble gum, and a sticker—even their older brother who usually foregoes the goodies was happy to have them.
       A new fellow has joined our group. He's "old" (a term which becomes increasingly difficult to define), he has some teeth, and he's thin. But the most remarkable thing about him is his clothing—it's all white. It's very white. Joey reasoned that maybe the man is an angel, or soon to be an angel.
       Mr. Huggy came for nuggets and the last bowl of cabbage—and a hug. I thought he'd never let me go. What is it with huggy people? Anyway, I mentioned that I'd like to see his office "upstairs" someday, and the rest of the facility for that matter. So he took me right then for the tour. That building is nothing like I've always imagined! And we were "upstairs," as there are only two floors—upstairs and downstairs. Who knew?
        When I stepped out to go home, the big jolly fellow thanked me for the meal, adding, "That cabbage was really good!" Our angel was leaning against the spare tire on the back of my car, soaking up the sun. "I'm so sorry," I apologized, "but I have to take it now."
       "I know," he said, "but this spot right here is so warm." There wasn't another car that was good for leaning on—all coupes. I hope he's still there next week; it's really sad to think of him "out there."