HUNKERED DOWN

       Word has it that we'll have plunging temperatures all day and into the night, to go with the rain and possible snow. Residents at the shelter don't need to hear the forecast; their relationship with the weather is much more intimate than mine—with my nice house, warm car, and the freedom to go as I please. Just saying: they really get restless when they are housebound. I don't know how their weekdays are, but weekends must surely be trying. It's a wonder more of them don't go to church just to get out!
        When Gate Keeper let me in, he asked how I was. I said, in a very low voice, "I have a day job and a nice home—got nothing to complain about. You?"

       "Me too!" he smiled.

      A fellow who once lived at the shelter came to mop the floors for Joey. He does that on occasion. Joey said that man is the only one who "gives back," launching into a long diatribe about how people use the shelter but never give back… sounded a lot like Miss Lillian. Seems to me that if they go out into the world and help somebody else avoid a shelter, they've paid it forward… It's not my place to say. I did overhear the fellow saying that his family had driven him slap up the wall this morning, and he had to get out of the house! So… maybe it was a fair trade that he had someplace to go and something to do with his irritation.
       Joey and I served exactly what we had planned last week, and more! I had to cut up some potatoes (forgot my tools), and invent the soup from a sad mystery box, but it was all good, and there was no grease in the food. When lunch was over, we got more compliments than I can recall for a meal—pre-packaged chicken salad, canned fruit, biscuits, tossed salad, and homemade vegetable soup. Nobody complained.
       Digging through the big fridge for soup makings was eye-opening (or closing, depending on your preference). One canister had a 1/2-inch-thick slab of solid FAT on top. Underneath was that gelatin stuff you get when you chill the drippings from a roast or a chicken. It smelled like chicken. We threw it out. Other canisters had corn (one partially frozen, dark & tough; the other foul-smelling). We threw those out. Another canister had what appeared to be tomato sauce with green peppers. No sale. Last, and most hopefully was a canister of SOUP, but DANG: It was the soup I made LAST WEEK (with milk). "Joey! This is over a week old and was made with milk!" Now that I think about it, that was the gallon of milk that Miss Lillian had written "use now" on. It expired a couple of days before last Sunday. Yes, we threw that out too. Today's soup was made from fresh ingredients—by the grace of God.
       So... a couple of the pre-release fellows seem to have adopted me. I get special recognition from them, they call my name often, and they want to chat. These guys could be my children. Maybe they miss their moms. One of them was waylaying me when our Angel came in, and I nearly missed the opportunity to ask him how he's doing. He said it's a wonderful day. He smiled. The lost look he had last week wasn't with him today.
       Eternally Angry Pre-release Woman was quiet. She took her food and ate peacefully. She did come to the counter to haggle with Joey about the clock, when she was wanting to stay longer than allowed. She said the dining room clock is right and the kitchen clock is wrong; ergo, Joey should allow her to stay a few more minutes. She lost.
       Later, Gate Keeper spent some time with me. He's lost 6 pounds and wanted praise for that. I complied. Then he seemed to want some sympathy about the "big belly/skinny legs" thing, but I had to remind him that he was preaching to the choir and age was upon us. Our conversation turned to children and grandchildren. We do think alike.
       Among our homeless, we had a few special orders. One wanted only a bowl of fruit. Her sickly feeling was palpable. Another just wanted chicken salad and a biscuit. Another just a bowl of soup. They are so malnourished, spiritually and physically—just makes me sad.
     Our drug-deprived shaky kid is morphing into a really cute little guy with a sense of humor and a happy face. I LOVE watching them change. Just when I think I've missed him, he turns up at the coffee pot, asking us to make more. Coffee is a good thing.
       And speaking of change… Mr. Huggy came to the kitchen today! I hadn't seen him in weeks, as you know. He sidled up to me as I said hello. He put one arm around my shoulders and gave me a very lightweight greeting, compared to olden times. Oh, to be a fly on the wall…
       A woman was engaging Gate Keeper at his window when I left. "Bye, Sugar!" I called to him.
      "Bye, Baby," the woman called back. She wasn't happy; she wasn't happy; she wasn't happy.
       Oddly, there wasn't a crowd in the foyer, and a few folks were even hunkered down outside for a smoke when I left. Now that I think about it, they were the ones who brought a smothering stench of cigarette smoke to lunch with them!
       I'm going to exhale.
       Peace.

Y'ALL COME ON INSIDE THE HOUSE!

       It was a brisk 17°F when I set out this morning. I noted with dismay that my car did not warm up within a mile… or five. The engine was fine, the heater was doing its job, but there simply wasn't enough heat for that frozen car and me.
       One lone fellow sucked on a cigarette on the homeless side of the parking area. You know, the pre-release folks and the homeless have separate areas for smoking. I just saw the little sign a few weeks back. Inside, folks packed the little foyer, antsy for good weather and the freedom of outdoors. Gate Keeper let me in.
       Joey and I had planned Caesar salad, homemade bread (mine), cream of tomato soup, and canned fruit. No fried foods today. It was fun imagining how delighted our picky eaters would be with their healthy lunch. I put my whole heart into making it. For the salad, Joey provided bags of salad lettuce, boiled eggs, deli turkey & ham, cheese, and tomatoes. I brought the black olives. Joey opened some canned fruit and put it out as self-serve. One of the pre-release came to help, pealing eggs and slicing up 4 boules of bread for me. The salads were prepared in larger bowls that I found at the grocery store (a pack of 48). We had two left over, so I know we served 46 lunches today.
       The salads were pretty with meat triangles, tomato wedges, halved boiled eggs, and cheese chunks with black olives on top. Eternally Angry Pre-release Woman began by telling Joey, "I don't eat that kind of lettuce." He chided her and sent her away. Apparently they have a good-humored understanding. Later, when I peeped around the corner, she was chowing down on that salad.
       The homemade boule was snubbed right and left, "I don't eat bread."
       "But it's homemade!" we told them. Didn't matter. A bunch of the pre-release don't eat bread. Now the homeless do eat bread (most of them), and the bread got some nice reviews. Who could resist a fat chunk of fresh boule with a hot bowl of creamy tomato soup? Not many!
       Angel came to lunch. He didn't smile today, but I got a chance to speak to him and offer him "anything extra" he might want. Nope. He was fine with what he had; he just looked a bit lost. Then he rounded up the trash and took it out.
       The beautiful young man (with jerky movements/wasted and lost) is still there. He's looking much healthier. He's still throwing back a bunch of coffee, but I figure that's getting him through. He's made a reputation for himself with Joey—"He spills stuff, Miss Joy," so just give him one thing at the time—all said good-naturedly and taken the same way. He does still have a bit of tremor.
       Gate keeper appeared but once in the kitchen, and we would have chewed the fat, but I didn't stop hustling for 3 solid hours. Good meals take time and effort. The leftover meals that Joey put out (in case we ran short) were plates with a hot dog and bun, pork 'n beans, and tiny piles of lettuce. I couldn't help but notice no KNIVES were needed for that prep.
      Took my own knives today—had tomatoes, eggs, meats, cheeses, and bread to cut up. Took my own cutting board too.
       Cream of tomato soup can be made with other than canned Campbell's tomato soup. We only had a few cans of Campbell's, so Joey opened a half dozen cans of tomato paste. After we mixed a gallon of milk with all of that, a little salt, and a few herbs, it was delicious! FYI.
       Mr. Huggy was nowhere to be seen. I meant to ask about him, but forgot. We have no children there now (thank God), and the house is full. Next week: chicken salad (from a container), vegetable soup, and I forget… but nothing fried!
       When I left, the foyer was packed with residents (and some Sunday visitors). Cigarette stench was everywhere, and my pre-release kitchen helper was getting his meds from Gate Keeper—huge bottles of huge pills. He's such a cute young man—why does he have to be so medicated, and why is his life so hard?
       Stay warm!

BRUNCH

       Joey and I had planned a brunch for last week, and I was surprised that he didn't cook it while I was away, but today it became clear that brunch takes two people working really hard, and it's served 5 minutes late but piping hot.
       Joey put two huge cookie sheets of biscuits in the oven and about 5 dozen eggs on the work table. I opened two half-gallons of canned spinach and put it on to simmer with a chunk of margarine. Joey mopped the dining room while I made up 10 sack lunches to top off the stash in the fridge. Then I chopped an onion and chipped up some cheese for an enormous pan of omelet. There was even fresh sour cream for it. I added salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a dash of oregano. Eggs! Lots of eggs!
       A large pot of sausage gravy was already simmering when I got there, so we just kept an eye on it. By the time we unlocked the doors, there were some hungry people to serve, and they were curious... "What is it?" they asked. We had some newly donated plastic dinner plates with clear plastic covers… so the food wasn't as visible as usual. And they didn't seem as excited about their "brunch" until I told them I had personally made omelet with onions and cheese.
       Eternally Hostile Pre-release Woman was even of good humor. She turned up her nose at everything on the serving counter, while Joey tried to placate her. "Just tell me what you'd like," I said, "and I'll fix it for you."
       Maybe her stars are aligned today. For whatever reason, she decided that we had several things she'd like, and I prepared her plate with those. She was happy… and when I left to go home, she spoke to me…
       Gatekeeper is well. He stayed on his end of the building except for one brief foray to the kitchen. Mr. Huggy is still invisible (when I am there). Joey says he's there, and his girl friend is still with him, but Hugs doesn't come around before I leave anymore. I'm thinking his reasoning ("It's just the Devil. God can fix all things. She'll make it.") has no doubt morphed a bit. He'd have some 'splaining to do if he came around me.
       I didn't see our Angel, but to be honest, I was working hard to keep pans of fresh omelet full and serve up plates. I swear if I don't remember to take my own knives next time, I need a sound thrashing. The nice paring knives I bought for that kitchen a few months ago have long since "disappeared." How do some people do their job without a sharp knife… or use of the working can opener…
       There are no children at the shelter now. Hurray!
       I brought home a fat, split-open biscuit slathered with sausage gravy… had to eat half of it while my Healthy Choice meal was nuking. One of our homeless took a leftover meal instead of the brunch because he's worried about his health. I'd worry about his health too, but there is little I can do about his meals. It's common to see leftover plates with fat sausages, corn on the cob and mashed potatoes. THAT is probably why there is little need for a sharp knife in that kitchen. The nutrition is there, but bacon grease flows freely. Well… maybe olive oil in their next lives.