VACATION DAY

       Joey and I both got a vacation day today. I'll be honest: it was nice to not have a shelter menu on my to-do list… tho I've noted that the large cans of corned beef are stacking up in the pantry, and we might try that again with the baked eggs (not overcooked).

       I imagine my little 6-year-old girl will be gone by next week… and I SO hope she is… Joey says she's beginning to remind him of "Angry Child," and that she has mentioned wishing her family had a home of their own. I imagine that starting school has put the child in the awkward position of being the only one in her class who lives in a shelter.

       I hope Miss Lillian is cooking up a good meal for my people today—not so heavy on the bacon grease and carbs. Not holding my breath.

       Hope you had a good Sunday. Late summer is breath-taking here this year, as the cicadas finish their symphonies, the hummingbirds feast before their flight, and my one long-legged rabbit lopes by the patio each evening as if I've put something special out there for him. Bright golden toadstools have popped up in the yard—a first. There's always something new going on just beyond my door, and far too much to fit into such a short life.

WIN SOME—LOSE SOME

       I think today's efforts were, for the most part, a bust.
       The planned menu was apple/carrot/raisin salad, deep-fried chicken patties on buns, and fruit. Joey ordered the fruit cocktail on Wednesday. When the order arrived, the fruit had been substituted with sauerkraut. We had no fruit, so we heated a can of black-eye peas.
       Joey had taken the huge electric food processor out of the high cabinet for me. He had washed it. There were five little boxes with five different slicing implements—julienne fries, slicer, dicer, grater, and mystery chopper. The machine itself is very heavy. All I had to do was figure out how to assemble it. If it isn't properly assembled, it won't work at all. That's a safety feature.
       It took about 20 minutes before I got all the pieces in their places and the "go" button cranked up the machine. I ran six, foot-long, 6-inch-circumference carrots down the bunny hole and into the container in about 60 seconds. Finished. Done. I could have fed an army in 10 minutes, but we don't have an army. It took a lot longer to clean up the equipment than to use it, but what a wonder it is. Joey and I talked about trying out the julienne fries wheel…
       Chopping the apples was drudgery, but it was required. Pretty soon, I had a huge bowl of salad. I put it in the fridge and made up 12 sack lunches.
       Along with our fresh menu, Joey had a number of leftover plates containing the sauerkraut, pork 'n beans, and a fat sausage in a bun. Personally, I was not drawn to either selection, and neither were our diners. The carrot salad was probably the least favorite, and so sadly because it had taken the most effort.
       Joey said he missed my bubbly, cheerful self. I said I didn't have a bubble to give. He said he'd give me one of his but it'd probably be gas…
       Best I could tell, the clients were a bit down today too. It is chilly and rainy, and the food—well—there was nothing to celebrate. Maybe next time.

SURPRISE! IT'S SATURDAY…

      Miss Lillian arranged her schedule so that she would work on Sunday this week and have another day off. Joey hadn't anyone to help him today, so I went in. Saturday at the shelter is not Sunday at the shelter.

       Joey had nothing planned for lunch, but there were about a dozen plates of leftovers. Naturally, I made a 5-gallon pot of soup. That's what I do when we don't have a plan. Then I lay about 25 hamburger buns face-up on huge baking sheets, covered them with grated cheese and sliced tomato, sprinkled them with oregano and dried parsley, and put them in the ovens to broil. They were simple but good. Mr. Huggy took a sack full of them home with him!

      Rewinding: when I arrived, yet another door keeper sat the post. I've met her before, but I guess she'd forgotten me. Joey came in at the same time I did, so he introduced us. "Are you the Sunday lady?" she asked. "I want you to cut up all of the honeydews, cantaloupes, and melons back there for the afternoon snack."

       I like the old gal or I might have been offended. She's my kind of acid-tongued, get 'er done, love you lots, crusty old broad. She ate two bowls of my soup and declared it to be "good!"

       Anyway, I'd barely got the soup on the stove when Mr. Huggy came in the back door, in his Saturday clothes. He was there to help! It was interesting to watch him. He asked me what I was making, and he put his shoulder into it, bringing tomatoes from the fridge and slicing them. He helped find containers for the cans of fruit I opened. He even opened a few cans himself—his first. I had to laugh because until I explained the simplicity of our $400 can opener, he wasn't having much luck with it.

       He also put great effort into cutting up a bunch of melons. The enormous watermelon, however, had frozen, and we had to ditch it.

       So lunch was an easy fix, albeit an enormous amount of food. We were ready to serve up 40 plates. The pre-release came in—a bit fewer than their usual small group—maybe 5 or 6. Joey spent a lot of time fretting over what we might feed the lady with the wheat allergy (who still eats pasta salad, quiche, and pizza…). I told him to let it go, but I assume he made a special plate for her. Heaven knows I'm not falling for her special needs again.

       Joey also expended much energy fretting over vegan-heifer's lunch. The veeg didn't show, so that too was much ado about nothing.

       To my great disappointment, our homeless crowd was only about a dozen people! We had food coming out of our ears. I can just hear Miss Lillian's consternation when she sees all that leftover food. I encouraged Joey to serve it up for dinner tonight—after all, for most of the folks it would not be a repeat. Sadly, of the children, only the 2-year-old girl came to lunch. I took 2 Beanie Babies out to the dining room and sat beside her—that same little expressionless face looking back at me. "Would you like a bear… or a puppy?" I asked.

       She reached for the puppy and tucked it under her left arm. Then she continued eating her fruit. I asked for a smile, but she just looked at me blankly. If only you could see her.

       So that's Saturday lunch at the shelter. There was much more interaction between those of us in the kitchen than with those in the dining room. We had a happy morning, if somewhat wasteful, but I missed my people.

SUNSHINE AND RAINING CHILDREN

       One lone pre-release sat outside when I drove in this morning. His head was low, and it surely appeared that he was feeling down. It was that "older gentleman," the big guy with white hair. I called to him, "Would you like to help?" He would.

       We gathered up my four heavy bags and took them to the kitchen. Joey had just arrived, and the kitchen was still "cold"—no radio—the steel curtain into the dining room still closed. I had cooked the pasta from five boxes of Betty Crocker's Suddenly Salad, and was planning to cook more from the kitchen pantry and to add the mayo and flavor packets there at the shelter. That dish took the biggest bowl we had, and there was enough pasta salad for 40-some plates.

       Along with that I had taken a lot of colorful vegetables (tomato, yellow squash, cucumber, carrot, zucchini, black and green olives). Joey and I rolled up slices of ham, turkey, and cheese with toothpicks and olives for the entrée. I sprinkled croutons on the pasta salad, and those plates were so pretty. Too, we had some donated chicken wings which saved the day when the pasta ran low. Lunch was a happy time.

       There was also time enough for me to make 42 sandwiches toward the sack lunches. Brenda came in just as the serving of lunch ended—that girl has figured out the timing! She was all smiles, and chatty. Gosh, you don't supposed she was initially as intimidated by me as I was by her? Hmm.

       She has taken the paid position of GATE KEEPER, starting soon. She's such a reticent little thing—I can't imagine her tossing somebody out for drinking a beer… and that does happen. Still, I hope she does well with the position; she's excited about it. She'll continue volunteering in the kitchen, but will move that to another day.

       Mr. Huggy arrived dressed to the nines. He claims he doesn't feel well, but he looks a lot better than last week! Said his medication was too strong, so that's getting better now. I filled a take-out box for him.

       We had children today! The lady with the lap baby, 2-, 4-, and 5-year-olds was there with her whole crew. The 2-year-old and her mommy were there, and my 6-year-old was there with her parents. We had Beanie Babies to give out all around. I've never seen children so excited. I began the handing out with the 4 siblings, and their delight must have infected the others. Before long, all the children came to the serving counter to shout, "Thank you!"

       You have to be there to get the whole scene, beginning with the 5-year-old. I reached into my bag, "Do you have a frog?" I asked. "No!" he said excitedly. He loved it. Then I reached in again and came up with a spotted puppy for the 4-year-old. He was thrilled. Then I approached the 2-year-old, assuming he might not understand the little cow I had for him. "It's a cow," I said. "What does the cow say?"

       He grabbed it with both tiny fists and held it out, "MOO!"

       Well… forgive me if I take such pleasure in the children—but their joy is so genuine. The downside is that their pain is neither hidden. The 2-year-old girl still has not smiled. Today's her birthday and her mother was full of smiles, but the child… oh, sigh. At least the 6-year-old sang the birthday song to her… over and over.

       Several adults came to the counter to say thanks as well. They enjoyed their meal—and I personally had thought of it as rather bland, though pretty. Maybe it is all in the presentation…

       Vegan-heifer turned up her nose at the food, but took a plate anyway, asking for chicken wings as well. I knew she was giving those to her boy friend, but the meanie in me said, "But you're a vegetarian…"

       The lady who's allergic to wheat was offered a specially prepared wheat-free plate but declined, rolling her eyes as if she were doing us a favor, saying, "I'll try the pasta."

       There's a new fellow among the homeless—young man, well spoken. Says he's a chef and that lunch impressed him. If we ever need any help in the kitchen, he's available… he has ideas for menus, but we just don't have calamari…

       Oh, and that huge pot of fresh squash that was cooking when I left last week? It was cooked perfectly, and they ran out!

       When I left today, Joey had all the high chairs and booster seats out on the back porch, scrubbing them down. They needed it! We put our heads together long enough to figure out next week's menu: Spanish rice, fried chicken strips with tomato/lettuce on buns, and apple/carrot/raisin salad. Joey thought of that. I'll be making it on Saturday. Remind me to get some BABY FOOD!