I'M LATE, I'M LATE!

      Just to let you know, there will be no kitchen blog next week; I'm taking the day off. I have arranged for a stand-in.

       Joey stayed up last night until 4 a.m. He told me about it after he announced that he was serving only pinto beans and sandwiches today—and—the sandwiches would be "make your own." Then he suggested that we serve deviled eggs, knowing I was good for those.

       After I was knee-deep in (only) 16 sack lunches and a pot full of boiling eggs, I asked Joey, "Why didn't you go to bed until 4?"

       "Oh, Miss Joy, there was this show on, and then there was another show, and after that there was another one…"

       "Joey," I said, "sometimes you just have to turn that TV off."

       "Yes, ma'am, Miss Joy," he said, "I know."

       Don't we all have nights when sleep just won't come?

       About 15 minutes from the first serving, I told Joey I didn't think I could finish 45 deviled eggs and put together "make-your-own" sandwich platters. He came to help me, but he was still in a fog.

       Added to Joey's lack of sleep, two fellows came in this morning and distracted him. That child loves to talk! One man came to mop the floor, and another's mission was never discerned, though the "talk" part took a long time.

       Our C&W music was outstanding this morning; always appreciated.

       I did get to serve today. I got to have eye contact with all of "my people." Mr. Wilson asked for "a" sandwich. I put one on his plate and looked at it. "You know, this just isn't going to do it for you," I said, giving him another.

       Joey and I discussed the diverse eating habits of our two groups today. He doesn't have eloquent words for their differences, but he does say the pre-release folks are more sophisticated. It's interesting that we both are keenly aware of the differences—and willing to talk about it.

       My stand-in took over at 12:15 and I came home! These legs and feet have less and less tolerance for concrete, and I bought some new Dr. Scholl's gel pads yesterday!

       Crashing. Have a happy. See you in a couple.

40 POUNDS OF SCALLOPED POTATOES

      Again, I was too busy with food prep to interact with "my people." Maybe I'll figure out how to multi-task. Mr. Wilson always makes sure I get his special hello, and assures me he is not taking care of himself!

       Kyle was there. He and Joey were hooting it up in the dining area while Kyle mopped. They do enjoy each other, and I enjoy them. Kyle spent a lot of time today heckling Joey about when he was little (they are 20 years apart). Joey denied sucking his thumb, but Kyle pressed the issue. MOM stepped in and told them to play nice! Of course they were, and it was all in fun.

       We only needed 24 sack lunches today. Joey didn't say anything about PBJs, so I didn't ask… I bagged some chips for the next crew, and I served up 40-some plates. When the last plates had been dispensed or wrapped, and just when I was feeling smugly caught up, Joey mentioned that he's planning scalloped potatoes for dinner tonight. He always pauses just long enough for me to stick my foot in it.

       So he put these four gallon-size, milk-carton-looking boxes on the work table. He told me to use them all. Each carton made 10.7 pounds of scalloped potatoes. When I finished cutting up butter, stirring in the flavor packets, and mixing in the dried spuds, Kyle put the four huge aluminum baking pans in the ovens. Forty pounds of scalloped potatoes.

       I wasted no time untying my apron and going for my good-bye hug, "I love you, Joey."

       "I love you, too, Miss Joy."

TURTLE CHEESECAKE

       My neighbor donated a turtle cheesecake for the shelter kitchen. It went like hot cakes…

       Still, I am surprised by those who will not touch those kinds of things—the little moonface boy shook his head, and Mr. Picky said no; but, Mr. Wilson got his share, even after I told him it wasn't on his [diabetic] diet. "I've been watching my shape for years," he chuckled, waddling away with his goodies.

       Kyle was with us again today. He and Joey enjoy each other's company so much! When I see both of them mopping the tiny dining room, I know they're having fun! Kyle served all the plates I usually make, and I accused him of stealing my thunder. Truth was, there were so many sack meals to make that I didn't have time to serve "my people." I missed that.

       The residents got their monthly check this week, so they weren't eating in the kitchen as often, and we had 32 sack lunches left back from Friday! Still, Joey asked me to make up the missing 13, assuming folks will return to their shelter diets tomorrow.

       Also, we needed 15 PBJ sacks, and 12 breakfast sacks. I'm all sacked out :)

       Joey says the teacher has moved his group into working with syllables. He had them confused with compound words, so I tried to explain the difference, and he got it, at least for the moment. We don't have easy access to pen and paper, or even time to use them, or I'd sit that sugar baby down and we'd have us some school.

       Our C&W station was pumping out the best of the best today. I'm going to write them back with thanks. Even the residents noticed; one of them thanked me for bringing Joey's music up to speed. I assured her it was there before I came, but Joey continues to blame me. "Miss Joy's doing the jammin'!"

       That's okay. Jammin's a good thing.

BANANA PUDDING

       Today I went prepared with "stuff" to carry in. Yep, we had banana pudding. It was a crap shoot because you never know what folks (or which folks) will eat. The overweight 9-year-old turned up his nose. Some of my pre-release guys turned up theirs. Mr. Wilson, of course, was able to slide at least one helping into his blood-sugar ration.

       Joey made corned beef and scrambled eggs. The pre-release guys were ecstatic. I'm sure I've never seen them appreciate a meal so much.

       Our C&W music station really let us down today. The longer we listened, the more depressed Joey became. "Miss Joy, I'm just sure country and western music is depressing." And later, "They say this music causes divorce… all those songs about losing your woman because she died or ran off with somebody, or you ran off with somebody…"

       I had to agree, but only because today's selections were on the sorry side of sad. Yes, I have sent an email to the radio station. Next Sunday I expect some jammin' music!

       Kyle is back this week. He made 22 sack lunches yesterday, reducing my load to a mere 23! He made the PBJ sacks too. Just always a pleasure to see those sacks put together.

       Joey is still going strong with school. This quarter, his group continues their vocabulary work, plus they are reading a book. They read it in class, going around the circle. Wouldn't it be just the bomb to teach a class like Joey's? Maybe in my next life…

"NORMAL" IS SOMETIMES JUST OUT OF REACH

       Two guys were standing in my shady parking spot when I got there this morning. I smiled and wiggled a finger at them to let me in. It was going well until I stepped out of the car and they offered to help me carry in my stuff… I didn't have any stuff—no goodies—again today. I ducked my head low, and shuffled across the parking lot, shoulders sagging. At least they got a little chuckle out of it.

       My real job (the one that faded last winter and got me into the kitchen business in first place)—that job—has kept me hog tied to the computer night and day for months now. I am tired. I am almost too tired to play.

       So I slept in this morning, and did not apologize when for cruising into Joey's kitchen at 10 o'clock. I was well rested, thinking nothing could come between me and my Sunday-Lady fun.

       Joey and I began with lots of laughs—largely related to the MATH we needed for the sandwich count. Only two bags in the fridge! So… um… we needed 43 more sack lunches, or 86 sandwiches. Just made my eyes water.

       Then Joey suggested I make some deviled eggs—we had ONE HOUR to cook the eggs and prepare them—for 40 people. Adrenaline comes in handy sometimes. Those sandwiches came together so fast, I couldn't believe it myself, and Joey helped me put them in baggies. Then I threw the lot of them in the refrigerator, to clean the prep table for deviled eggs.

       Around 11 o'clock I began to think something wasn't quite right, but I kept up the pace. We served hot dogs in buns, potato salad, baked beans, and deviled eggs to both of our groups. Then Anna called to say she was coming in this afternoon, and I wouldn't have the PBJ duty! That's always wonderful to hear, but this time I knew it was more wonderful than ever because by noon I was completely aware of a full-blown UTI! I had to come home and dig out some medicine—right then.

       So there you have it. It was a wonderful morning in the kitchen, our music was better than ever because the machines were quiet today, and Joey has surely become one of the brighter lights of my life; but, today it was all abbreviated.

HOME AGAIN

       Joey was at his post this morning! Getting to his post proved to be a challenge. I knocked and knocked on the dining room door. Finally, I went back to the front desk and asked the person on duty to call Joey and tell him to let me in. As I arrived back at the dining room doors, the voice on the loud speaker announced, "Joey, there's a woman waiting for you. Let her in."

       I cut up three little sugar melons that Joey produced, added a large can of fruit chunks and a half dozen cans of apricots. Joey baked pizza and deep fried some onion rings.

       JOEY has finished the first quarter of school, with flying colors!

       Sixty-eight sandwiches, 18 sacks with PBJs, two lunches served, and I was ready to fall down, but we had enjoyed ourselves completely. Our C&W music filled the room, and we found the clients singing along with us as they came through the line.

       A precious little moon-faced 4-year-old boy came to lunch today. His eyes have dark, dark circles under them. He ate a good lunch, rubbing those sad eyes over and over. I stepped softly inside his little head, just for a moment: he's barely aware of the world around him, he trusts without question, and I hope he won't remember this time in his life.

        Mr. Wilson was sitting on the outside wall when I left—all 350 diabetic pounds of him. "Thanks for the fruit salad; I know it was you."

       Getting credit for free is okay.

HALLELUJAH!

       The Sunday kitchen was served with a twist today. Joey was not there! In his stead was Miss Lillian who's been there for ages. There's a plaque with her picture on the wall. Pics of her large colorful family cover the refrigerator door. Miss Lillian. I knew she was around, but we've passed like ships in the night—month after month.

     "You must be Joy," she said.

       She's nice. She's heard about my deviled eggs; says I'm spoiling folks.

       I went straight to work on 26 lunches—52 sandwiches. Lillian buzzed around the deep fryer and cleaned the floors. Because she was using the frier, she was running the loud exhaust fan. Generally, the fan annoys me, but today… today it helped drown out 3 hours of gospel singing and preaching.

       At one point I told Lillian, "That preacher is breaking out in a sweat!"

       On checking the PBJ container, I found it completely empty. "Nothing?" Lillian asked.

       "Not even a bug," I said.

       "Well the sandwiches are already made."

       "Wonderful! I said, "I'll sack them." Twenty-five sacks with drinks, PBJs, cookies, chips, napkin. No problem. Lillian pulled the giant container back into the dining room.

       We served corndogs (again) and fries. There were baked beans for those who got there first. There was a new guy in the pre-release group. He's well-spoken, approaching middle age, and handsome. When he asked for a second plate of food, I gave him a secretive nod, and he took it, as did another man. After all, at least six people weren't coming, and we had more than enough. Then he started schmoozing, "You're a good woman." He wanted to hang around and talk. He mentioned the radio selection, and I said, "Yes, I know. I've been saved and healed right here in this kitchen!"

       The resident homeless  were in great abundance today. Some of them didn't particularly want corndogs and fries. Lillian has no sympathy. "They're not hungry; they're picky!" she complained. Sigh.

       She won't be there next week, but said she was mighty happy that I made those sandwiches for her. Apparently, it's her least-favorite job. Lillian also said that when Joey is not there, the other volunteers don't show up. She was quite surprised that I had come at all, like I would not have come, had I known. She was wrong.

       AMEN!