It’s been a while since I’ve made deviled eggs. Partly because I was punishing the folks for not wearing costumes at the Halloween event, partly because deviling eggs has been for me an exhausting messy process because I never could get the hang of the pastry bag or Ziploc bag method of swirling mixture into the whites.
When I signed up to bring eggs this morning, I’d forgotten about the punishment – which was satisfying only to me because the folks didn’t know they were being punished with deli potato salad instead of deviled eggs at events since Halloween, and I was halfway through the process before I myself remembered.
Oh well, too late now, I thought as I finished peeling.
The deviled egg machine, anticipated to be no mess no fuss, turned out to be less mess less fuss because the container couldn’t hold 12 yokes AND ingredients, not even 6 yokes AND ingredients. Plus, I don’t have much upper body strength and it took too much brute force to press the yokes into the container through the pusher.
I ended up mixing the yokes and ingredients in a bowl, as usual, but then I put the mixture into the machine, which turned out perfect for swirling into the whites.
Heading down to the Community Room at 9:40 with my creation for the 10:00 event, I’d expected to find folks already seated, waiting. Instead, I found only two seated, The Baker in the kitchen making biscuits and gravy, and Activity Director making pancakes.
Activity Director was worried, saying she’d expected folks to be seated, waiting, as well. I said maybe it was the “sweetheart” that turned them off because most don’t have one, which she found funny, but then I assured her it wasn’t quite 10:00 yet so they’d come.
Come they did.
We do have a few sweetheart couples on the premises. It makes me smile when I see long married couples walking around hand-in-hand but, except for The Baker and one other couple (in the background) we didn’t even know lived in the same unit, let alone were married – because they’ve never been seen together until this morning, there wasn’t much of a showing of sweethearts.
For some odd reason, couples tend to keep to themselves, not socialize with the rest of us.
At any rate, we ended up with 17 residents, one of which was new, having arrived less than a month ago from Missouri.
Activity Director seated herself at my table and discussion turned to Tuesday Pizza Day.
I said, “That was quite a coup getting Pizza Hut to deliver pizza once a week. How’d that come about?”
“A what?” says Activity Director.
“A coup” says I.
“What’s a coup?” says she.
Holy crap, thought I but responded politely, hiding how amazed I was the word wasn’t in this college educated millennium’s vocabulary … “A success, accomplishment”, said I.
(I pronounced it koo. Was I wrong?)
She told me how pizza came to be, some sort of program, but I can’t remember what she said because I was still in shock. What she was saying went in one ear out the other until she asked for a volunteer to accept delivery of the pizzas and oversee distribution because folks were taking advantage, putting continuation in jeopardy.
Evidently, the pizzas are whole, not in slices, and they come with sides – chicken wings, etc.
Residents are hauling out two/three/four pizzas at a time and loading up on sides and, for deliveries to continue, Activity Director needs to show the donations are going to senior residents of the complex only. Management is too busy to oversee; the Activity Director is not here on delivery days, so she asked for a resident volunteer.
Apache said he was reluctant to do it because he didn’t want people to get mad at him for not allowing them to take what they wanted.
I said I had no problem with caring what donation abusers think of me, so I could police the event; except, since retiring, I have a problem with commitments.
Having said that, I made the commitment anyway, but said I’d try it out this coming Tuesday -- just to see if I can overcome my commitment phobia to where I’d be able to continue with the job.
I’m to be provided with a sign-in sheet, so Activity Director can show donations are going to residents per program's guidelines. Plus, I’m thinking of putting together a sign saying to “Please be mindful of others. Take only a single serving portion”.
I wasn’t thinking it at the time I volunteered, but it hit me later that maybe, if I make myself useful, management will give me a break end of year when they learn I’m too far over the cap to remain a resident.
I doubt it, regulations are regulations, but it’s worth a try.
The event was fun. We had a door prize drawing for cute valentine-themed items.
I won nothing.
Menu was sausage, pancakes, eggs, a couple puff pastry stuffed items, biscuits and gravy.
As usual, I limited myself to eating only that which I brought and what The Baker made.
Knowing my stomach rebels to anything with wheat, I don’t care what the stomach likes/dislikes when it comes to The Baker’s cooking, especially when she makes her famous biscuits and gravy, so I indulged AND I further danced with danger by indulging in one pancakes and a little syrup.
Three hours later and so far so good, insofar as stomach pains.
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