Sunday was a historic day. We once again have a proper kitchen for Clive the Chef to cook in. This means that hot meals are now available again for both volunteers and recipients during the worst of the winter months. The lovely SDA congregation at Granton church have allowed us the use of their kitchen and dining areas every Sunday.
Clive was up and about at the crack of dawn, and by 9am he had already arrived and was cooking up the food we had saved from last week’s collection. Duncan and I fed the two cute cats and left them to snooze, heading for the store.
George joined us at Morrison’s and we stopped awhile to check for any fruit or veg that might be too far gone. No point taking stuff all the way to Granton, only to get rid of it upon arrival. The sun had come out of its November funk, and was shining like a summer’s day (although not quite as warm) as we sorted through the goods. Passers-by stopped to talk to us, wondering what we could possibly be up to. The ‘Cook-Inn’ banner, tied as it tends to be to the doors on our car, served only to pique some folks’ curiosity. Business Cards were given out upon request, and a couple of people who knew us already came up for a chat. One kind person gave us a bag of donations for the charity, bought just then inside the store!
As we sorted the veg & fruit I listened to my Ipod shuffle, found only a couple of weeks ago in a spare handbag, and now re-loaded with new tunes. My go-to music right now is a band called ‘2Cellos’, hailing from Croatia and quickly becoming famous in so many countries for giving well-known songs a stunning new interpretation. So, I thought to myself; why not similarly ‘revamp’ the sorting of fresh produce? I’ve googled one very beautiful tune they play, ‘The Shape of my Heart’ – and discovered that it was actually written by one of Britain’s most famous musicians; Sting. It’s on his album ‘Ten Summoners’ Tales’ from 1993. In a website called ‘Songfacts’, I found an article in which Sting himself wrote:
“I wanted to write about a card player, a gambler who gambles not to win but to try and figure out something…some kind of mystical logic in luck, or chance; some kind of scientific… law. So this guy’s a philosopher, he’s not playing for respect and he’s not playing for money, he’s just trying to figure out the law – there has to be some logic to it. He’s a poker player so it’s not easy for him to express his emotions, in fact he doesn’t express anything, he has a mask, and it’s just one mask and it never changes.” >>
This song was edited into the end of the 1994 movie Leon: The Professional. >>
Now everyone will want to hear both versions, right? You could do a lot worse of an evening than to do that. While George and Duncan chatted to folk and sorted the other crates nearby, I had my own private world for a wee while, in which to appreciate the music.
The church, and our nice new kitchen, loomed up in front of us soon enough. As we came in, we took over the generous dining area and began loading 28 bags (this week) with the fresh produce we had just brought over. I mused quietly about the nature of card games in general – how they can be just a bit of fun for some people, but could equally mean ruin for others. Like everything, I imagine it’s not what you have; it’s what you do with it. Clive doled out the finished hot rolls and soup (pumpkin – a ‘Thanksgiving’ theme, arguably in honour of our new Pastor Gabriel, who hails from America) and we all had a nice hot lunch.
As there were only two cars this week, George and I quickly delivered Fred’s Granton run – to Fred’s family, who are kind enough to ‘take up the slack’ and distribute the bags themselves. I remembered a gripping tale I read years ago by Robin Jarvis, about a sinister man who used the appeal of stories and of playing cards to rule the world, take over everyone’s minds and use their efforts for his own ends. If you want to know what happened to him, it’ll take three books to find out – it’s a trilogy. But it alludes to the underlying threat of getting so much into something, card games for instance, that you don’t notice the machinations of the person next to you. Not just what he’s up to in the game – what he’s doing to you in the real world. Before they knew it, the victims in the book were sucked in, having no way of escape. Avid readers of fiction should note, the trilogy is called ‘Dancing Jax’.
Granton run being dealt with, George and I headed for Adele’s, nipping into my house to feed the cats a late lunch on the way. Feline fans will be happy to note that Sherlock Romes is still holding in there, despite being a rescue cat in his incredible 17th year! Afterwards, with Adele’s help, we whipped round her big run while Duncan and Clive delivered in greater Musselburgh . Then home; to cats, cuddles and creative blog writing!