ANTICIPATION IS MAKING ME WAIT

      Last night I learned that "my little girl" had returned to the shelter. I raced to the toy closet to select two treasures from which to let her choose, knowing that seeing her again would be the high point of the day—after I had worked more than 2 hours preparing and serving lunch.

       In spite of my request last night, Cutie Gatekeeper did not spike his hair for me today, explaining that he'd slept until 10 minutes before having to report for work. Besides, it's raining, and no hairdo takes well to rain. He'll try again next week.

       He and I were the first to arrive in the dark kitchen. He doesn't know where all the light switches are either, but we tried a lot that didn't work. Pretty soon Doug arrived and we had light aplenty. Doug was in good spirits today. For lunch, we had 16 plates of leftovers from last night's dinner, but he didn't know what he was going to do about the 16 or 20 more plates that we'd need. I've been wanting to make my corned beef hash with poached eggs for a long time, so I suggested it, and Doug was in agreement. I browned the corned beef hash from a #10 can (in three batches), then spread it evenly on a large baking sheet. I made nests with the bottom of a cup, and cracked a raw egg into each one—about 20. Doug put the pan in the oven, and within 40 minutes, it was ready to serve.

       On the side, we got rid of a large pan of fruit cocktail, and a large pan of leftover rolls. As has become customary in the past 5 or 6 weeks, a man came to the back door with more large sacks of bread, so there will be rolls for dinner tonight too.

       It was interesting to watch the pre-release approach the counter. They recognized the BBQ leftovers from last night, but the hash was almost an unknown. When I told them that I'd "made it myself" and that I first saw it made in a fancy restaurant, they decided they could try it. Some asked for seconds. Some gave great reviews. Cutie Gatekeeper ate two plates. So I'm calling it good.

       The stash of lunch sacks was so depleted that I made up 30 during my 3 hours there. Miss Lillian has been on vacation for 3 weeks, but returns tomorrow, so Doug wanted everything to be in perfect order for her reentry. I asked him if anybody had noticed the missing PB&J tub, wondering what Lillian would think... and Doug said one person had asked about it last week. "I said, 'We don't have that anymore,'" he explained. What a guy!

       Our homeless residents were an extra sad-looking group today. They look homeless, though there was one man wearing an exceptionally pleasing cologne, and I complimented it. On the whole, they were a pretty rag-tag group. Of course, she was there… and I had waited so long to see her. "I missed you!" I told her. She had on a little pair of play high-heel shoes—what a beautiful child.

       Her granddad (now hear this) is not her granddad. And her grandmother is not her grandmother. They are, as I originally assumed, her parents, though the woman is said to be the only one who is genetically connected to the child. Her daddy has just "always been with her." It doesn't take genetics to make a good daddy—just being there with love—so apparently he qualifies. He did not have a good week, and he doesn't feel well today, but he did take the BBQ plate with two sandwiches, so I'm guessing his appetite is okay.

       Anyway, I offered the child her choice of toys, and she selected a patriotic Beanie bear with sit-down legs and extra-soft fur. I also had a tiny coloring kit for her, and I asked her, "What are you doing this summer?"

       She said she was going to the Boys & Girls Club, but now she can't because of her ear (swimmer's ear?). So I must imagine that she is stuck there at the shelter all day, every day. I'll be looking into activities for her this week, but I'm not holding my breath. She'd need transportation and supervision—all those things that kids with abundance can take for granted.

       There were no other children present for lunch, though the little boy in still in residence.

       Doug said that Mr. Huggy came by yesterday to say his duties "overseeing" Doug were ending, as Miss Lillian was returning. If you've been paying close attention, you'll be laughing right about now.

       The nightly kitchen raids are ongoing, but Doug hopes Lillian's return will help with those. Heaven knows how it will pan out when Lillian retires for good, in the fall.

       Dean was again not there for the Sunday meals, but he's been a steady hand through the week. And there's an old, old volunteer who appeared one day recently. She marched into the kitchen, introduced herself to Doug, and said, "You'll have to get your stuff off this work table. I'll be needing it." Come to think of it, I know that feeling :)