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.