“Do you know the muffin man? The muffin man, the muffin man.
Do you know the muffin man who lives on Drury Lane”

I think of the famous children’s rhyme every morning when I set out to buy some muffins and bring them to the Mansion aides, staff, and the residents permitted to eat sugar.

Most of the time, I stop by Amy McLenithan’s Country Food Wagon on Route 22, the same road the farm is on. Amy has worked like a demon to set up her food wagon, which adjoins the Cambridge Livestock Auction, which she and her husband own.

Amy’s Country Wagon appears to be a hit, it’s already a favorite spot for farmers, town workers, and officials, teachers and neighbors like me. Amy looks to be having a blast,  she is a very tough critic when it comes to herself, and if she makes a mistake, she chews herself for days.

She and her husband bought a wooden shed which sits next to the wagon; it’s heated and every morning highway workers and old farmers hole up in there to drink coffee, eat some muffins and gossip.

They are the news center of our town out there, if I want to know what those sirens are about on any given day and night, I just ask, and I get an answer right away.

For all her fussing, Amy makes very few mistakes.  She has my coffee waiting for me when I pull in.  If she hasn’t sold all of them, she has a bunch of muffins all wrapped up in cellophane.

We talk about my day,  her day, and the challenges of starting a new business.

She was distraught a few days ago when a customer left in a hurry and didn’t show up for days. She was convinced he hated the food or that she had offended him. It turns out he was just away for a few days.

I like the twists and turns in life which makes me a muffin man. I leave Amy’s, or drive over to the Round House if Amy is out of muffins or I want to switch to cookies.

Lisa Carrino makes the most beautiful and delicious cookies and scones and pies.

I love the look of delighted surprise when I show up with delicious muffins or cookies in the morning, everyone says I’m their Santa Claus, and every morning is Christmas.

I think it brightens the start of difficult days.

A muffin man was a tradesman well known in London in the English cities of the 19th century. He sold muffins out of his wagon and delivered his fresh muffins from home to home, mostly for the lower class people living in the crowded urban areas.

The rhyme also inspired a children’s game in which all of the children sit in a circle and sing the rhyme, asking who knows the muffin man, the game turns into a song.

This morning, Amy was out of her Lemon Poppyseed muffins, so I stopped at the Round House Cafe, talked with Scott Carrino (he wants the cafe to be on the Zinnia Socialization List. He’s on.)

I brought 10 cookies to the Mansion. Nancy and Georgianna and Melissa, an aide, were all in the Great Room. Each one took a cookie.

Georgianna asked me for cigarettes, as she always does, and I brought the remaining cookies into the office. Two of my favorite cookie and muffin and pizza recipients are gone, they went to work in Saratoga at an assisted care facility there. I didn’t get to say goodbye, which is par for the course.

The Mansion van needs new tires, I might need to help out with that. I have almost enough money to pay for the new stage set the new drama class at Bishop Maginn is hoping to build for the set of Happy Hollandaise, the first play the school has performed in decades.

I just need a few hundred dollars more. I’m adding $400 of my own money.

And  I am helping the Mansion freshen up its Christmas displays and decorations.

Two days a week I fund a “pizza lunch” for the aides, $20 does it.

I have come to love my work as a Muffin Man, going place to place with warm and tasty muffins. It’s a special way to go good in a small way, but it can really brighten up my day and get it off to a great start. I hope it does the same for the staff.

I hope I am one day remembered as the muffin man, who lives on Route 22.

If you wish to help me in my refugee student and Mansion work, you can send a contribution to me via Paypal, [email protected], or by check, Jon Katz, Mansion/Refugee Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816. Thanks.

“Yes [or “Oh, yes”], I know the muffin man,
The muffin man, the muffin man,
Yes, I know the muffin man,
Who lives in Drury Lane.”