COVER STORY
Corks are popping! January is awards month in the world of children's literature. Esme Codell writes about contenders for the Caldecott award for best illustration in American children's literature, the Newbery for best writing, the Coretta Scott King award, and others...
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"I've got two cornbreads and three rolls left, the dumplings are getting low, and folks are lined up to the corner." It had all of the appearances of the dreaded slam!
"We've got three to-go orders, I need some Styrofoam cups and lids for the soup. Where are those containers for the deserts?"
"Roll or cornbread, soup or salad, we have cream of corn soup with ham. I think that Bell stayed up late squeezing the cream out of the corn so that it would be fresh today. I don't know about the cream of ham, she must have chased down a few pigs."
"Hey, did these rolls come from H.E.B.?"
"Jenny, could you check on the cornbread, I'm about out."
"Could I have more dumplings if I don't take a salad?"
"Hi, Ms. Eeds. Where were you last Friday?"
"Well, I wasn't at home with a good-looking man. In fact I wasn't at home with any man--he wouldn't even have to be good-looking!"
"We've got another to-go."
"Give me a lemon with my tea; it fits my personality."
"Hey, is this good for my prostate?"
Howdy, I'm Craig Hunter, Ms. Bell's steam table boy at the Seniors' Center, except on Fridays when Jerry takes over. Two months ago, I didn't know what a steam table was or what a person would use one for if he owned one. However, sometime during the month of October, I decided that I would venture out into the friendly town of Lockhart in search of somebody needing assistance with exposing innocent folks to the confounding realm of computers and ended up behind a steam table with an apron wrapped around me, a ladle in my hand, and a long line of hungry folks on the other side of the table.
After attempting to educate fourteen-year-olds for twenty-nine years, I retired at the welcomed conclusion of the previous school year. My wife and I moved here in August from north of Amarillo where we had both lived for most of our lives. The small town that we lived in had one flashing yellow light, but it was red on two sides. To us, Lockhart is the city.
After settling in, playing golf, checking out the green houses, playing more golf, planting several bushes and trees, playing more golf, unpacking enough boxes so that we could fit both cars into the garage, and playing more golf, I decided that I should become a volunteer. At our previous residence, I was involved in an "Adopt A Highway" project which required a friend and me, along with my wife, to pick up trash along the highway. My students would see me wearing an orange vest, walking along the highway, picking up trash, and ask me what I gotten into trouble for that was causing me to partake in community service. I attempted to explain to them that I wasn't in trouble, and that we were just cleaning up the highway because we wanted to. They were unable to comprehend a person exerting himself without compensation and concluded that I had gotten into trouble for robbing the local "Live Bait" store or some similar offense.
In my pursuit of a volunteer position involving computers, I first visited the Chamber of Commerce. After I explained my intentions, they directed me to the city offices where I obtained more information concerning a computer position at the Seniors' Center. From the city offices, I headed out with great expectations of delving in the computer assistance world.
Upon my arrival at the Seniors' Center, I was politely greeted by three members to whom I began explaining my interest in assisting with the computer classes. They informed me that the lady I needed to consult was occupied at the moment but that she would be available in about twenty minutes.
Suddenly, a frantic lady briskly appeared and emphatically exclaimed, "I'm two volunteers short, and there's no way I can serve lunch without any help!"
Being as I had to wait twenty minutes anyway, I curiously asked, "What do you need help with?" She momentarily hesitated, kind of gave me the once over, and hastily replied, "I need you to run the steam table."
"What's a steam table?"
"Come on, I'll show you everything you need to know!"
Thus was my humble inauguration into Ms. Bell's elite, efficient, and enduring food-servicing team.