They came, they're here, and it's as crazy as we were warned.
1400 or so mouths to feed breakfast and lunch.
An hour and fifteen minutes just to put tray after tray after tray after tray of English muffins into the ovens for 5 minutes, and out again into the warmers.
Vegetable barley soup for 1400- how much barley to put? The sacks are 25 pounds- do I put 8 pounds, 25, 12, 15- all the numbers are equally ridiculous to me, so I wing it.
We cracked and scrambled 2400 eggs one breakfast.
Pancake morning takes 3 hours of 3 people on the griddles.
Kitchen boot camp.
After coming here to "Americana Summertime" from 28 years in Israel, and after actually being Canadian to begin with and not American, there are some situations here that strike me as so funny, and so culturally different:
The whole pasta thing that I already talked about, on facebook.
Six a.m. on my way to work in the kitchen- I pass two 9 year old boys drinking cans of Coke on the grass. At 6 a.m.
There was an outburst of rain at dinnertime the other night, so I had to do "guard duty" so the kids won't grab the huge, expensive garbage bags in the lunchroom for rain protection to get the 2 minutes to their bunks. Best line of the evening- "I absolutely must have a garbage bag for my friend to wear back to his bunk- he has VERY expensive shoes!" The peeved teenager of course did not appreciate my "so tell your friend not to bring very expensive shoes to camp."
No one told us about the major, huge, loud, 15 minute fireworks show that started at 9 p.m. last night, just below our window. What an immigrant I am- I can't begin to describe to you the first few seconds of what went through my Israeli head when the big booms started- suffice it to say that I did a quick look around to see where to hide (between the shower stall and the wall was my decision, with a little prayer that I would fit) while we're being attacked by terrorists. Marvin and I had a good laugh when we realized we both thought the same thing...
And through all the intense, insane hours and days of churning out tray after tray and pot after pot of all-American, carb-intense camp food, the sick feeling in my stomach and heart just does not go away, thinking of our 3 boychiks and their families... let's pray for a happy and thankful post full of good news for next week.
Chodesh tov and Shabbat Shalom.
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