New Years Resolution - 2010 Style

While reading Elizabeth Berg's book last night I ran across a passage that has attached itself to my mind and will not leave.

And I am paraphrasing, "A Navajo Indian told his Grandson, 'Inside of me I have two wolves fighting. One is the bad wolf, lazy, inconsiderate, mean and without compassion. The other wolf is good, generous, willing and kind'. The grandson asks, 'Which wolf wins?' and the Grand Father replies, 'The one I feed.'"

This is my hope, that when ever I find myself in a situation I will try to ask myself, "which wolf am I feeding?"

Far too many times I am feeding the wrong wolf these days.

This must change.

I carry around a small notebook to write down the GiST observations and feelings I encounter on a daily basis. I find that I am searching out the good. Sometimes it is difficult and I have to reach really deep to overcome the depression I am immersed in. But, I am prevailing and on certain days I am happy. And because I am on the look out for such small and often overlooked events, I am climbing out of this dark stupid hole I have stepped in.

Happy New Year one and All.

December 30th

GiST 34/365

1) Next day mail delivery service from USPO (even though they piss me off most the time). I refuse to go to the small PO in Tiny Town because of Lurch, the counter person, who is very impersonal (mean) and charges me more for 1st class shipping than other PO's.

2) The most fashionable thing I own, Kate Spade sun glasses, given to me by my style conscious husband long ago (and have not lost nor have had stolen in over two years!) (lost a beautiful Channel pair on one of the cruises by leaving on the lounge chair - I'll never hear the end of it)

3) Finding $1 in change (two quarters, one dime, one nickle and 35 pennies) in the car, under the seat, fallen between the bucket seats and under the floor mats, to pay my fine at library so I can use the computer (mine is still very sick from Internet Security 2010 virus).

4) Out of the corner of my eye, as I was driving to Hop-town, I saw a horse in a field, laying on its back, rubbing itself in the grass with its legs straight up in the air! As I turned to get a really good look, he jumped up and began running joyfully across the field.

5) Finding a box in the cluttered bedroom that contained my favorite pens! A gold Cross pen presented to me as a Christmas present when I worked at WU. A wonderfully balanced pen that I received as a "major award" from the Dale Carnagie public speaking class (I was voted as the most moving speech that day). And the Schaeffer pen that Joe gave me as a surprise! I knew they were missing, and finding them was a burst of my own joy! If the bedroom had been a field, I would have jumped up and ran.

December 29th

Grace in Small Things 33rd edition of 365

1) Deciding that looking for "the cutest baby of the day" contest that I will hold in my head and announce the winner only to me is a perfect way to make the creeping crawling time pass by now that the Christmas rush/push is over and things are almost back to the vaguely boring routine at Biscuit Bucket.

2) Finding a beautifully designed simple white bowl at Goodwill for 59 cents.

3) How delicious it is to read a Eliz. Berg novel.

4) My blue and white Vitoria Secret bath robe that is a hundred years old and so comfy.

5) Laying on the couch with my legs entwined with my husbands and nodding out for a few minutes during the ESPN coverage of the UK game. He nodded out too, (we won by a million points).

Bonus # 6 - Having an anonymous comment on my "Love affair with Candy" entry about Blue Monday candy bars.

December 28th

Grace in Small Things 32/365

1) Christmas presents to yourself. Who knows you better?

2) Dionis Vanilla Bean hand lotion and Lip Balm (yup, that was my present)

3) Rita's wild plan for a business venture of which I am the partner (sounds like fun and a winner...time will tell)

4) A blissfully wonderful shower with lots of fragrant soap and foamy shampoo.

5) Finding a "fix" for my computer virus that seems to have at the very least, has me back on line at home. Thank you Public library and all the free diagnostic and clean up programs out there. (still needs a lot of work, but wiping out my hard drive is a distant horror....)

Long Time Comin' - (CS&N)

Grace in Small Things Deluxe version

Brought to you courtesy of the Public Library

December 23rd 27/365

1) Downloading Swing Music

2) My new bra! Makes me look like I have lost weight.

3) Phone call and e-mail regarding Mall position (still alive)

4) New make up from Kohls

5) My computer catching the Internet Security 2010 virus and shutting down. Making me rethink the amount of time I spend on the computer. Maybe not having a computer stealing my time is a good thing.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------

GiST
December 24th 28/365
1) Cindy's cookies at work! Great since I forgot my lunch.

2) But wait! The break room is full of goodies too! Sugar overload. How sweet it is.

3) Beginning to clean out the storage unit in a fit of anger trying to locate the Mack Daddy virus killer software.

4) Behold! Finding the cache of CD's titled Jazz Masters. Wow! Some good listening there.

5) The fat baby dressed up in the Santa outfit including black Santa booties and Santa hat. Too cute.

6) Bonus item - the wrist jingle bells. Loved them. Hate to retire them for the season.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
GiST December 25th 29/365

1) Watching The Christmas Story ......all day long!

2) Christmas with the Grand Kids.

3) Baby Nash dancing to "Put a Ring on It" - too funny. That kid's got the moves.

4) Listening to B.'s story about the true meaning of what's important and what's just stuff/b.s/irrelevant. Brought me to tears.

5) Being a very good designated driver.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
GiST December 26th 30/365

1) Realizing that I have gained remarkable stamina being around people.

2) Listening to Crosby Stills and Nash while rolling down the highway.

3) UK insignia's everywhere on their way to Nashville. Felt like home.

4) Watching old games from the 1996 championship team on the road to the NCAA title.

5) Being able to stay up until 3am!
-----------------------------------------------------------------
December 27th 31/365
1) What a gorgeous sunrise on (count them) third trip back to Central KY in five days (I must be mad)

2) My sister noticing I have lost weight (did not tell her it was the new bra!!)

3) Poinsettia drinks - yummy yummy. Cranberry and champagne.

4) Family memories. Each person tells a story they have written (does it surprise anyone that my family is an army of writers) about a family memory. It was wonderful.

5) Another group picture of the grand kids - making memories for them to pass on (in time)

6) Bonus GiST's. Sweet potato casserole. OMG. Double marshmallows this time.

Sometimes I cry, somtimes I fly like a bird - (Boz Scaggs)

December 23 GiST edition 26/365

1) My music on the MP3 makes the long (well short comparably) drive to Louisville easier

2) Seeing hills!!!!!!!! (did not realize how flat this area is. Not as flat as NE IN, but flat)

3) Seeing a bona fide SKY LINE!! (Ah Louisville how I miss you and your lit up cathedrals)

4) Christmas shopping with Bridget (good thing? Ha!!)

5) Schimpff's Confectionery in Jeff. (OMG!)

December 22

GiST 25/365

1) Joe scraping the frost off my car windshield for me in the morning.

2) Having health insurance and RX coverage.

3) Salvation Army bell ringers and having an extra buck to toss into the kettle.

4) Rita bringing treats to work including bourbon balls - yummy.

5) ESPN's coverage of the UK2K last night. It made me proud to be a Kentucky fan and knowing that all across this mighty USA hundreds of thousands of UK fans were feeling it with me.

December 21st

GiST 24/365

1) Waking up very early for some me time.

2) Washed dishes sitting in the drainer. Ah, all is well on the kitchen front.

3) Bag of sliced oranges.

4) Rediscovering Bit-O-Honey (hated as a kid. Love as an adult!)

5) Being told a joke by an old lady at work...."Two old ladies in church listening to the preacher go on and on. One leans over and whispers to the other, ""This lecture is so boring my butt has fallen asleep", "I know", she replied, "I heard it snore twice."

December 20th

GiST 23/365

1) Excellent nine hour day at work where everything was clicking and the three of us working together were in a groove. Had 3 one-thousand dollar hours back to back and missed the fourth by less than 70 bucks! Darn..

2) The thrill of expectation of a snow fall.

3) Finding the misplaced Disney Reward card. Found it right where I hid it months ago.

4) Christmas party at Golden Corral.

5) Having that moment where I realized I was happy and taking note of the glorious feeling.

December 19th

GiST 22/365

1) Opening the front door and there is the Three Legged Cat waiting to come in after an evening of romping with his "girl friend" (TLC is fixed, girl friend may or may not be a girl, but I suspect she is)

2) Finally being able to use my "Sleeping with Alan Jackson" sales pitch and having it work!!

3) A tall glass of water with lemon slices.

4) Rita bringing me an Angus Burger from Cosco for lunch. Obviously she thinks I need to be fattened up (smile inserted here).

5) Finishing Thirteen Moons by Charles Frasier. Definitely one of the three best books I have read this year. I read it slowly so to savor every word. There was something magical to this book. I read Cold Mountain over ten years ago and I remember sobbing at the end. I had read reviews about Thirteen Moons and how it was no Cold Mountain. I suppose it would be like Martha Mitchell's second book if she had ever followed up Gone With The Wind.

Teaching an Old Dog New Tricks

GiST 21/365

1) Being in possession of an ice scraper.

2) Smiling at the sight of two girls posing on the trunk of the huge pink elephant that sits at the cross roads.

3) Finding my candle making stuff in the storage shed! Making a candle and failing. Finding a video on You Tube and re-melting it on the stove (vs. the microwave) and better the second time but still a wick failure! Lesson learned - nothing is as easy as it looks.

4) Flipping the heat on in the house.

5) Missing Survivor last night because I had to work, but knowing I can watch it on the Internet later today (maybe tomorrow).

Lunch Box

Brought to you by {W}rite of Passage

(Written in fifteen minutes!)

Grammar School Lunches –

You must know,number one, the school was a two room Parochial school that taught maybe sixty students in eight grades located in the living quarters of the Nuns of Divine Providence. We had no cafeteria and we ate at our desks during most the school year. Weather permitting, we went outside. I vaguely remember picnic tables along the south end of the yard.....only vaguely.

Anyway. Lunch was an important affair when taking place on the playground. When allowed outside the four walls of formal education, it was a mass sprint to acquire the best spots the play ground had to offer. The best being, sitting in the shade under the sliding board. This was not typical namby-pamby sliding board, but the mother of all sliding boards. I can close my eyes and still see it, still feel its cold metal under my hands. It was 10 feet tall (at least!), made of solid iron, its steps pitted for traction and worn silver by the millions of trips us kids took to the top of the magical tower. You could see the entire grounds from atop.

But the best of times was when the weather turned very cold and icy, so cold that the ground was frozen and ice formed on the blacktop. We would polish the board with wax paper until it shone and was as slick as snot. Then we would carry buckets of water from the water fountain and toss it in front of the bottom of the slide making a hazardous path towards the merry-go-round (which was like a monstrous tilt –a-whirl top!).

You would climb the steps to the top, crouched on your haunches facing downwards waiting to be shoved with herculean effort by those behind you to descend down, hair flowing behind you, hats taking flight, a steak on the the greased death slide, hitting the child-made frozen path and steer your self by keeping hold of your knees, as far as you could go careful to avoid taking out a first grader or some goof ball not paying attention. Many a child’s life hung in a suspended balance as they failed to fall sideways before sliding, at breakneck speed, under the crushing jaws of the Merry-go-round! We would scream , shout and cheer as we ran towards the bone crushing monster and stopped it moments from smashing in the head or obliterating the bones of the greatest slide of them all. Or at least that day.

Lunch? Everyday, without fail, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich lovingly folded in wax paper accompanied by a tiny bag of Frito’s and two cookies.

Lunch was wolfed down and the cartons of milk tossed back quickly in anticipation of that precious hour of bone chilling, death defying, bone marrow crunching, dare devil and double dog dare playground time after lunch.

GiST #20

1) My knock-off Movado Museum watch in motion again.

2) Releasing the unmistakable aroma of Gain detergent as I unload the dryer.

3) The self-serve station at the post office to avoid standing in the long long long long and then long again line.

4) The V-6 in the Sonata, vvvvvvvvvroooooooooooooommmmmmmmmmmm

5) Remembering it's garbage day and getting the container to the road before the truck arrives (5amish!! Can you believe it???

Number 18 Number 18 Number 18

GiST

1) Coffee - the nectar of life - first thing in the morning.

2) Ability to remove myself, if only for just a few hours, with a short journey/adventure to parts unknown.

3) A pen that feels just right in my hand and writes with a smooth flair.

4) Small towns without even a four way stop.

5) An Amish buggy tearing down the two lane highway! I have not seen such a throw back sight since leaving Ft. Wayne over two years ago. I knew the Amish/Mennonites had settled around this West KY area, but I had yet to see them. They are a fearless people.

Number 17

Grace in Small Things 17/365

1) Awaking to the distant chords of The Nutcracker Suite playing from the television turned on in the living room and being overwhelmed with the image of taking Bridget, as a very young child, to the Louisville production every year.

2) Christmas lights glowing in the black darkness.

3) Joe ironing my shirt.

4) Bob's Old Timey peppermint candy.

5) The season finale of Dexter. Wow, never saw that coming, (though I should have).

Grace in Small Things

16/365

1) Being told by a second party how the first party brags about how wonderful/good you are!

2) Zac Brown Band.

3) Finding the perfect Christmas gift.

4) CBS Sunday Morning segment about Paul McCartney and the Beatles. (I'm a long time Beatle fan)

5) Joe bringing home a Courier Journal (Louisville's Pulitzer prize winning newspaper).

Number 15 - 350 to go!

Grace in Small Things

1) Small pocket notebooks

2) Honey made by local beekeepers.

3) My new friend Rita - Who has these little nervous tic's like Rodney Dangerfield

4) Joe coming home from a short trip to Central KY

5) My sonic toothbrush.

Grace in Small Things

14/365

1) Getting a paycheck every week! I use to get paid once a month! What a difference (in so many ways).

2) The scent of candles

3) The beautiful fleeting 4pm sun drenching the bedroom.

4) Babies with bows in their hair (little wisps of fine baby hair)

5) Vivid dreams starring friends from long ago.

Careful what you wish for

What seems like a long time ago, when I first "retired" from the Beverage Company I hoped that the next job I found would be less stressful.

I figured that I would take it easy for awhile. My father was very ill and I had been away from home for over two years and wanted to spend time with family. My Mom's 80th birthday party was planned for that summer and relatives from all over were coming in for the celebration. There was plenty of time "later" to look for a job.

I began to envision the career I would seek out. Less stressful meant I could leave it at the doorstep when I went home. I did not want my cell phone ringing 24/7 with problems I had to smooth over or find a way to resolve. I wanted a job where I could sleep soundly at night and not toss and turn until the sky began to lighten and soften from the blackest of night to the gray of a winter morn. I wanted to not bolt upright from a sound sleep when my subconscious remembered I forgot to download my orders the evening before because I got distracted. Or bolt upright from a sound sleep when I remember that today is the day I am suppose to turn in a lost equipment report which I have not even started. I wanted to not feel myself become worried senseless because I have upset a customer with some regulation that is outside my realm of authority and those higher up could care less. I wanted to leave behind forever the mini anxiety attacks being brought on by some Big Wig from Atlanta that was going to hop in my car and spend the day with me visiting the Bengal Camp. And on and on and on.

I wanted a job where I did not have to recall what I wore last week so that I would not wear the same thing twice to visit an account.

I rolled it over in my mind that wearing a uniform would be good. Very good. It would be heaven to not think about clothes!

And my wish came true. I iron my pastel button down oxford shirts and laugh at the absurdity of my never having worn much less owned such a shirt before. My apron with my name and lone star makes me ponder irony.

As I fall into bed and sleep soundly and without a single honest work related care in the world, as the frustrations of too much responsibility are replaced by the frustrations of ego...

As I wake at 330am in the morning after a deep six hours of sleep I also marvel at the power of the invisible hand coupled with the fickle finger of fate that can make a dream a reality.

This is Harder than it looks

GiST part 13 of 365

1) Pancakes with cherry preserves (more of the food theme)

2) E-mail from Gayle (hi G.!)with picture of childhood buddy.

3) Pumpkin spice flavored coffee

4) Making it home in time to see most of Survivor.

5) Finding a $5 bill!

12 of 365

Grace in Small Things

1) Lip gloss

2) Talking to Mom on the phone

3) Receiving first Christmas card

4) Having a nice conversation with an elderly lady in the line at the PO that made the 20 minute wait tolerable.

5) Chicken-n-Dumplings at work (there is a pattern of food stuff in my GIST's!!)

extra! Extra! UK beats UCONN in a thriller and I stayed awake for the whole thing!

GiST 11/365

1) For some crazy zen like reason, I enjoy ironing my cotton long sleeved shirts with the can of starch.

2) A pb&j for lunch

3) Reading an article on line about the lack of jobs and professionals taking retail jobs for the Christmas season and how the retail industry was remarkably improving because of it! Better customer service----hello.

4) A well deserved afternoon nap.

5) Fortune cookie "Your problem just became your stepping stone. Catch the moment."

Offical Kick Off of Write of Passage

Character.

Working with the general public all day long exposes you to the entire spectrum of personalities and character types. Serial shoppers , mean people, deformed people, challenged people, rude people, warm people, hyper people, people who allow their kids to run wild, people who are amused, people who are bored, people who just want to eat, people who just want to shop, people who want to eat and shop, people who hold purses for their wives , people who just hold purses , people who help their mates to the bathrooms, fat people, skinny people, people returning from cancer treatments at Vandy, people with no hair, people with too much hair, people with seeing eye dogs, people without an arm, people without sight, people without shame, people without compassion ,people who want candy, people who want pies, people who express gratitude, people who express impatience, people who want gift wrap, people who tell you how to do your job, people who are grateful you know how to do your job, people who want bows, people who want boxes, people who want an uncrushed box, people who want what is on the top of the highest shelf, people who like snowmen, people who are afraid of the weasel chasing the ball, people who look good in wraps, people who look short in wraps, people who ignore you, people who call you by name, people who smile, people who scowl , people who hum, people who talk to themselves, people who touch everything, people who bark at their children not to touch anything , people who look lost , people who are lost, people who rush to the bathroom , people who do not flush, people who line the commode seat with tissue paper and leave it behind, people who miss the trash can, people who refuse to touch the door plates and open with their elbows arms crooked like a doctor entering the OR , people who startle easily, people who enter the wrong bathroom, women who scream when seeing a man in the women’s bathroom, little boys in the women’s bathroom , sad looking little girls exiting the men’s bathroom, old folks on walkers, young folks in wheel chairs , broken arms in pink casts, broken legs in blue casts , crutches , canes, and XXXL “do you have anything larger” people, Tennessee orange , Alabama red , Florida orange and blue , Kentucky Blue, Austin Peay Red, Western Kentucky red, tall athletes, bus loads of retires looking for Horehound drops, basketball teams, volleyball teams, cheerleading teams, little league teams, coaches, People with books, people with newspapers , people with Bibles, people with brief cases , people with notebooks, people with lists , people in groups, people alone, people together, people kissing , people hugging, people kissing passionately , people rocking , people expounding on religion, people preaching politics, people talking about mission trips, men and women in fatigues, men and women in dress uniforms, people attending weddings, people attending funerals , people traveling , people passing through, people stuck, people yanking children by the arm, people with twins, people with four day old babies, people carrying baby carriers, babies laughing, babies crying, children running, children throwing tantrums, children playing in the toy department , children in Uggs, children in cowboy boots, children barefoot, children with a white streak in their hair (natural), children living with their grandparents , children visiting their grandparents, grandparents visiting their children, soldiers returning from Afghanistan, newlyweds, married 64 years, those who love, those who do not love, those who are affectionate, those who are chatty, those who are sour, those who are happy ,those who are sad, those who are lonely, those who are in a hurry, those who linger too long ,those who want something from six months ago ,those who want the last one, those who will not take the last one, those who wait until it goes on sale, those who don’t care what it costs, those who tell you how wonderful you are, those who tell your boss how wonderful you are, those who burst out the door shouting how rude you are, those who touch, those who grab your hand, those who tell you secrets, those who tell you dreams ,those who tell you “thanks” and not mean it, those who tell you thanks and mean it, those who dress like hookers, people who do not wash and smell bad, those on spike heels, those in combat boots, those in work boots, those who run out on the check, those who checks will not cash, those who return (used) merchandise, those who steal merchandise, those who argue about merchandise (that is clearly marked 25% off!!), those who want the manager, those who run out of gas, those who need a jump, a phone book, an aspirin, those who need a slap in the face, a course on etiquette, a bath, a kick in the ass, those who are too sweet, too young for motherhood, too young for fatherhood, too young for military service (they look like they are 12 sometimes), and then there are those who make you cry with their stories, who make you laugh with their witticisms…….

How in the world could I make up stories about the character of the people I meet and greet in a typical day?

The reality is enough.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This post was written in response to a writing challenge from {W}rite-of-Passage, a "...group of writers seeking a challenge, getting critique, and finding community."

10/365

GiST

1) Walmart having monitors on sale

2) Getting into a check out lane with no one in front of you!

3) Working a shift with Rita - who loves to gift wrap (yea!)

4) Finding a peppermint in my purse.

5) Finding "Tales of the Scale" at the Salvation Army store - a book written by a blogger who use (notice the past tense) to have a great blog called Lose the Budda.

9/365

Grace in Small things

Double header

1) Downloading the newest Neil Young.

2) Sirius Radio

3) Successfully selling Joe's golf clubs on Craigslist

4) Chocolate chip cookies recipe courtesy of Foodnetwork.com

5) Arriving two hours late for work because you read the schedule incorrectly and everyone covered for you and no one knew!

Second Week - GiST

8 of 365

1) Having a Saturday off!

2) Having a Saturday off and finding out UK plays UNC on TV at 11:30!

3) Living in central time zone.

4) UK playing awesome 1st half and I was jumping up and down and then they played a mediocre 2nd half but they WON!! Great game!

5) Finishing my first draft for (W)rite of passage.

GiST

7 of 365

1) Realizing I was watching a sunset and it was beautiful.

2) Not burning down the house. I remembered I had left the oven on earlier in the day when I rushed off to work! I had thawed out several chicken breasts and they had been in the refrigerator tooooo long and I thought I would cook them before leaving for work. Great ideas gone bad! Joe home at 330 and turned off oven! Chicken burnt to a black glob. That's what happens at 350 degrees for seven hours!!

3) Thin crust deLITE pizza from Papa Murphy's.

4) Money grams at Walmart - too easy and a Christmas discount.

5) The end of a trying day that was coupled with my out of sorts mood.

GiST

6 of 365

1) Andrea Bocelli singing "Because God Made thee Mine" makes me cry it is so beautiful and fills me with memories of my Dad singing the song to my Mom.

2) My MP3 - Andrea Bocelli and some other guy singing "Because we Believe" because it gives me chills (and brings tears to my eyes too, it's so beautiful)

3) That I made it to the gas station this morning before running out of gas. I cut it way too close this time - almost.

4) Unexpected trip to Trader Joe's!

5) Message on the answering machine regarding job at the Mall ????????!!!!!!!!!!1

Grace in Small Things

Five of three hundred and sixty five

1) Waking to the sound of rain.

2) Smell of brownies cooking. Yum yum.

3) AT&T cell tower finally (after seven months living here) turned on! Cell service in Tiny Town! Yessssssssssssssss

4) Employee appreciation days - 30% off the merchandise. That makes Buy one get one half price very sweet.

5) Getting a doctor appointment with a specialist immediately! Unheard of!

4 of 365

Grace in Small Things

1) Satisfaction that comes from completing a task! Even if it is only cleaning out the cupboards and refrigerator.

2) Libraries - thank you Ben Franklin for dreaming up the concept of a free library. With computers and DVD's, music CD's, old books - new books and everything in between.

3) Finding a four leaf clover.

4) A cute little boy pushing miniature shopping cart at Kroger (I go to market quite often..lol)

5) Hearing laughter and looking north and seeing the playground covered with children! Flashback to Ft. Wayne and a playground next to the Little Caesar's covered with a recent heavy snow and the seemingly hundreds of colorfully clad kids frolicking on the equipment.

Grace in Small Things

3 of 365
1) Christmas Carols on the piped in music to sing along with.

2) Finding exactly what I'm looking for in the stock room.

3) Two Amazon orders in one day.

4) Southern Comfort Egg Nog! (Hooray!!) at Kroger's. (boo Walmart).

5) Cat sleeping in my lap in yellow checkered blanket.

2 of 365

Grace in small things

1) Good laugh about cat sitting on the back porch of the new neighbor - who owns a dog!

2) Finally making the telephone call I have been creading for some time and it turned out OK.

3) Reading "just one more chapter" while lounging on the bed - just like I did as a kid in my upstairs bedroom with the pink walls and the deep burgundy rug.

4) Being told that I am #2 in sales for the week, #1 for the month. I modestly say that it is a group effort but inwardly my heart is doing the dance of joy.

5) Aspercreme - what a great invention!

Grace in Small Things

One of 365...

1) White fences of central Kentucky

2) Kentucky almost beating Tennessee in over time

3) My sister understanding when I shouted "You're like Cartman singing "O Holy Night"!! Who knew!" (talking about her prowess at Corn Hole!)

4) My mother finishing up the grace before the meal by saying, "And thank you for food, friends and family...and everything that begins with the letter F" ... a one beat of astonishment at the table and then snickering and then laughter and then.."Football!" "Fruit"...etc. etc. etc. (though we were all thinking one thing...) and she clarifies, "Good things that begin with the letter F.."

5) Family together

All the time in the World

My hubs went to Memphis for several days beginning last week. Last Tuesday. The few days stretched into a few more and now he will return tomorrow. it has been like a mini vacation! Only I am the only one to feed and let the cat out in the middle of the night.

When he left last week I thought, Oh Boy! I can lay around and read as much as I want and eat what I want and no fighting over the tv programs!

The reality is this, I started a book I could not get into...Little, Big. I am just not much of a "fantasy" fan. I enjoyed the imagery of the prose (...His hat looked as if it had been in a fight....) but I could not for the life of me get interested in the story. I would begin to read and find myself asleep. So much for reading.

I made my current favorite dish, Chicken Pot Pie. I have discovered the joy of using my eight inch iron skillet as a pie pan! Golly gosh (this is how I cuss these days because of my career at the People Pleasing family oriented Biscuit Barrel and their three strikes you're out cussing policy)it makes for a flaky crust! I might buy another one just for fruit pies! Anyway, something happened to my broth. I'm not certain what I did, maybe not enough chicken stock and onions. I used the Barefoot Contessa recipe as a guide instead of just winging it. It did not have the usual "Hamburgers! that's good!" kick to it that it always has when Joe is around.

And I thought I would breeze through a project I have been working on, off and on, for several months on the computer. Guess what? Never looked at it.

What I have done is sleep a lot, eat a lot and not read a lot. Download a ton of music from the MP3 program and work a lot of extra hours. And not care a fig about tv. (Anyone watching Survivor? I love that guy Russel from New Orleans. What a peacock!)

And it all ends tomorrow. I have missed him. Life is sweeter with him around, if not more hectic and demanding.

Farmer in the Dell

Early to bed and early to rise makes a person healthy wealthy and just a plain old bore.

Actually, the damn three legged cat begins walking across my chest around 3am. And he is heavy! I am able to steal another 50 or so minutes of sleep before giving in and feeding that lard ass cat and then letting him out into the neighborhood which is his jungle.

It's 4am and I am awake. I like the very early hours. It's quiet and I feel like I am the only one awake....besides the farmers.

A lovely quiet. A delicious quiet.

I did a short four hour stint at Biscuit Bucket yesterday and not much happening of the unusual sort. A kid with a broken foot hobbling around on one of those foot boots, "What happened?" I asked as I have found people love to talk about their injuries, and since she was a young kid of about nine I added, "Did you kick a boy?" She laughed and told me she was going to tell everyone from now on that's what happened because it sounded better than tripping over her wiener dog.

The only other good action happened over by the Alan Jackson display. A young couple had taken the hat (Stetson knock off for $49.99. You too can look like Alan Jackson!) and she was taking a picture of him with her cell phone.

I swooped down on them and slipped one of the red and black cowboy ostentatious shirts with embroidery and snaps galore and said, "Here, slip this on, put the hat back on and hold up the back of the CD! " I was recreating the back cover. "Tilt your head down. You will look just like Alan Jackson." They loved it! "Are you sure we can do this?" I looked all around and put my finger to my lips, "We won't tell the sales person on duty what you are up to."

"Brilliant Face Book photo!" he laughed, "Now, who is Alan Jackson?"

They were not from around these parts. I laughed, they laughed and the older couple standing in the clearance corner laughed.

"You're next!" I called to them.

The older couple ended up buying several John Deere head gear hats.

I'm good.

In The Groove

I have about twenty minutes to kill before heading into work and I thought I would dust off the keyboard.

I meet the most interesting people on a daily basis at Biscuit Bucket. On the whole, very nice folk, but there are those who are a bit testy. I love hearing the stories that pop out of their mouths. The type of stories that you tell perfect stangers that you will never see again. Probably, you hope, never again.

It's my job to entice people to at the very least consider looking at our merchandise. I talk to everyone. Men or women, young or old, angry or sad. You just never know who will respond and in which way.

Headed on thier way out the door last evening I thanked an older couple for dining with us and that hopefully on the next trip they would look at our new Alan Jackson stuff! She turned to me and began to tell me all about her trying day. She went to town to find wall paper. Did I know they don't sell wall paper anywhere in this town?!! (It does not surprise me, the town with no used book store nor a Fresh Market). And that she went to Walmart because a friend had told her that she bought a do-hickey that you put around your pie edges and it prevented them from burning. No one had heard of such thing at the Walmart!!! The they went to the doctor and found out they both had high cholesterol!! High cholesterol!! And she can't take the medication! Fish oil pills! Can't take those either (try freezing them and then taking them! "Does it work? No burping back up the ...fish?" "Guaranteed!")

"Have a nice evening. Maybe you will find something nice the next time you come back in."

"I doubt it, he is tight as a tick! Never should have married him. Hummphhh" and out the door she went, a full five minutes behind him. He was probably revving the engine and restraining himself from tapping on the horn.

Everyday I have three or four encounters like the one above. People just spill their guts to me. I should write a book!

Autumn of your Life crisis

My dreams have been multi-faceted, richly textured, incredibly entertaining, all in living color as of late. My mother is young and handing my younger sister (who is a baby of about two) a Pez candy dispenser in the form of Bozo the Clown. My father, also young, is smiling from a passing car. There is my old grammar school friend, Flea, running down a dark street that is pocked with spectacular glass shards as he calls to me to wait for him. I run on pain free knees. I run very fast! I am weaving my way through a bistro, people gathered and laughing, waving interesting cocktails in shades of chartreuse and ruby. I carry a shopping bag. My cell rings and I step out onto a back patio to answer and enter a zoo with swimming dinosaurs and toothy snakes!

I awake, feeling the comfort of my hot-dog bun mattress bed, with my three legged cat lifting his head to gaze lovingly and beseechingly at me (because he knows its about chow time) and I think....

I finally understand! Mid-life crisis!

Since I can put a name on it everything falls into place. Only, I am well past mid-life! So, it's post mid-life crisis. Autumn of my life crisis. Maybe I can accept the condition I find myself in, the circumstances so appalling and so embarrassing...maybe it's time I just close my mind to the "what-ifs" and the "I should haves" to the peace of just being where I am and not fighting it.

Break it to me gently - The End

Part IV

After four interviews and spending $25 at Fed-Ex Kinko's, putting together a killer proposal, day dreaming for two and a half months, mentally putting together sales proposals for partnership solicitation for the children's center, making a list of the organizations I would join and the publications I would subscribe to, putting together my resignation letter to HeatherBeThyName and visualizing her begging me to stay ...after asking my Mother to have her prayer circle pray for me(!) and even taking a talisman with me the last two meeting. After having three "off the record" interview encounters at the Biscuit Bucket...I did not get the job.

Because it would not be doing me a favour to offer me a position when I had minimal exposure to managing a Mall. The learning curve is too large, too something or another (I was zoned out at this time realizing I was OUT) and would I consider taking the Assistant job.

Certainly. I had also contemplated this offer. It had to pay better than slightly above minimum wage at less than 30 hours a week.

I could be Robin to her Batman.

I should have realized that I was too - overqualified - for the second banana job. Under experienced for the first, too much for the second.

But, in some half assed way they offered it to me. That was last week. Last Monday. Almost two weeks ago. I had to "interview" with the girl/woman they gave the job to to make certain we jelled. ("The temp we have really wants the job and I told her to go back to school! That she would have plenty of opportunities in time.")She was to email him and let him know we hit it off okay.

Still, nothing from him.

I call - "I've been out of town, as you know, and have your paperwork her in front of me. I will get it together and hand it over to HR by tomorrow or the next day."

"OK, I will not panic until Wednesday after noon."

He laughs.

It's Saturday afternoon and I have not heard from them. Hope evaporates and I have not ever known the depths of depression and frustration as I feel now. Calling him again is out of the question.

It feels like ashes in my mouth. I never knew what that meant before, but I feel like I have ashes in my mouth.

What a terrible place this is to be. Maybe they will call. I feel like the teenage girl sitting by the telephone waiting for the call that never comes.

Break it to me Gently - Part III

Today I was called into the back of the office - again - and told that one of the area VP's, the head bitch of the Retail Department in this area, had entered our Biscuit Bucket and "observed". One of the things she "observed" was that when I came out of the bathroom and squirted some hand lotion onto my raw chemically seared hands, I just sashayed off and did not "greet" her and Great Heaven to Betsy, did not try and sell her any hand lotion.

"Don't freak out" my Amazon manager told me, "But later she stated that she saw you again in the "clearance" area and once again you did not greet her or acknowledge her in any way."

"Great!" I thought to myself, "I'm going to get canned from the dag gone Biscuit Bucket."

Truth of the matter is I was selling my ass off all morning! I had it going with this particular display, which was 40% off. Anyone came near that display, I was on them and showing them "my favorite" thing, a basket that is the perfect size to put in a pie or a casserole dish. Dazzle everyone at those family gatherings or pot lucks!

Feature and benefit, baby. I sold about eight of them. I only had about two people who could resist me!

I had it going yesterday too. I sold the Hell out of our Halloween merchandise. No one could resist my powers yesterday. And today.

I am a selling machine.

But...always the big BUT....I can not do it for six straight hours. It's torture. People every where, blocking the aisles, lugging along babies in carriers, some people pissed off because the wait is 35 to 40 minutes, talking on cell phones, giving you the "I don't respond to sales people" cold stare as they brush by you ...

....(and I hum the Rolling Stones song in my head at these moments...

Who would believe you were a beauty indeed
When the days get shorter and the nights get long
Lie awake when the rain comes
Nobody will know, when you're old
When you're old, nobody will know
that you was a beauty, a sweet sweet beauty
A sweet sweet booty, but stone stone cold) ..........

Because 9.9999 out of 10 they are a young woman who sneers at you.

Because I do not talk to everybody. I just can not. Will not. I do not have the emotional energy.

Anyway. This comes after another set back last week when another VP came into the store (are they any other Biscuit Buckets in the area!!) and was not "greeted" for 30 minutes. The manager on duty took me aside that day and began his spiel to me, "You have great potential........." The kiss of death when someone begins a "pep talk" that way.

Man, Retail sales is not Rocket science! It's harder!

(P.S. we have been breaking sales records and setting new ones for the area. You'd think they would have something positive to say, wouldn't you?)

Break it to me gently - Part II

I dragged out the two containers of coffee I use every morning to make my one pot of the delicious nectar of life and discovered I barely had enough to last the week.

Running out of coffee is not something that is easily remedied. I do not run to the local Walmart, Kroger or even ALDI to pick up a new pound of freshly ground. No, I must plan my escape - I mean my trip to Nashville to visit Trader Joe and grab another canister of New Mexico Pinon Coffee which is only the best coffee ever!

I practically smile all day long knowing that not only will I grab some fine coffee, but I will also grab some Cranberry Oatmeal cookies. Yum Yum.

I'm showered and out of the house before 9am. I am in Trader Joe an hour later and happily munching cookies ten minutes after that wondering what to do with myself now - the whole town at my beck and call.

I make a run to the farmers market and find a 44 ounce jar of Wildflower honey made in Tennessee. I am a honey convert. A fine supplement to the sweet nectar of life is the sticky nectar of life.

After that I ponder my options and decide to find the Goodwill. I wander around town quite a bit, finding the hole in the ground where it use to be and a large sign telling me where it now resides. So I head off in that direction and after a couple of erroneous starts and backtracks I find the Mack Daddy of Goodwill stores all but hidden in a maze of back streets, clearly visible from the expressway, but difficult to maneuver.

As I stand in front the wall of hard back books I know all the trouble has been worth it! I begin on the left and work my way to the right.

I find treasure right off the bat. A first edition of an American translation.

Two rows down another find, 1st edition of The Fabric of Memory by an Eleanor Robson Belmont. I have not a clue who she is, but it was published in 1959, the book is pristine and the pictures reveal a magnificent woman in old turn of the century garb. I realize she is the Belmont of The Belmont race track. Yes indeed!

I find a lot of 1st editions and my arm becomes strained trying to hold them as I continue to read through the titles. I decide to park them on an end table positioned behind me. I keep my eye on them as I feel another person begin to study the books to my left, going through the titles just as I was doing.

I pull out a cook book or two and set it on my pile becoming more and more wary of the guy next to me with his long yellowish white hair, pulled back in a foot long pony tale. Obviously well dressed in pressed jeans and a corduroy jacket. "A dealer?" I think to myself.

As he gives up his search he walks behind me and toward the doors. He leans sideways and reads the titles I have set aside.

"Do you like John Updike?" he asks me.

I hesitate a moment and then say, "Sure, I like him."

He returns to the book case, pulls a book that I have already passed and hands it to me.

Rabbit at Rest.

"I see you enjoy good literature" he says, bows slightly and walks away.

As is my habit these days, I flip it open and look at the copyright page.

A first edition. Unread, perfect condition.

I place it on my pile and turn to repeat the thank you. He has vanished.

I was stunned when I researched the value of that book.

All because I needed coffee.

Break it to me gently - Part 1

I think no one cares why I don't write anymore. Yet when I come across the thoughts from someone else concerning why they no longer write (blog/journal on line) I find myself reading it, no devouring it with an obsessive curiosity. I try and find the similarities between us and usually they are there.

I miss writing down the hum-drum threads that make up the drama's of my life. I do not live with high expectations that I will ever be among the lucky ones discovered in the Blogosphere. Not now, not with the millions and millions of bloggers out here. Maybe when I started, over six years ago, it might have been possible. Maybe if I had not hitched my wagon to AOL...??

Anyway, I will never get my book deal.

I am a little fish in a big pond that gets bigger every single day. Just yesterday I was browsing and killing time at Borders and saw a book about Tweeter. Tweeter for God's sake! Blog creates writers who become celebrities, as does You Tube and I suspect Tweeter is not far behind.

So, I concede. I will ramble on about the boring aspects of my boring life and years from now when I am wondering what I was doing the first of October 2009 all I have to do is flip over here and....there I am.

Oeufs en Gelée

From his usual spot at the foot of the bed, in the left corner, the cat lifted his head made eye contact with me and blinked twice. I laid my book down (Julia and Julie, turning out to be quite a disappointment after a wonderful movie and a marvelous "My life in France" read) and listened.

A strong wind is blowing in from the west. At first I thought it was my husband, fallen asleep watching the UK-Florida game (as equally disappointing as the Julie/Julia book) stumbling around seeking the bath room in a semi-conscious state. "Joe!" I called out then remembering the last time catching him only moments before he confused the front door with the door to the bathroom, the cat and I rushed to the living room.

He was safely and peacefully sleeping through the trouncing.

I opened the front door and the cat and I stepped outside. A brilliant half moon lit up half the sky, the other half shrouded with the hastening rain clouds. The wind bringing dry brittle leaves to dance at our feet, the weeping willow tree across the street throwing her long arms up in and down, around and around in a frenzied gyration.

The humidity that I have been living with for months and months blown away to the east. Autumn is making her entrance.

The cat refuses to come back in.

I sit down at the computer and write this post and think about Julia Child and the horrible description of aspic and wonder why anyone would want to eat cold jellied chicken when you can have luscious pan fried chicken with white gravy......

The dishes call, the cat remains outside, the book lies on the bed waiting to be taken back up and Joe talks in his sleep.......

Suckers!

The bookcase hugged the whole wall with the aisles holding several more. Ah, the wonderful aroma of old musty books at the Goodwill. I began to touch the spines while quickly reading the titles and moving down the row when my fingers found "Kentucky Hospitality". My interest was piqued and I pulled it down. Pay dirt! A 1976 recipe book, sans cover, but filled with stories about making hooch in the "hills" and Mint Juleps in the parlor. $2.99 - a bargain!

Further down the same bookshelf I found another discarded jewel, the Farm Journal's Country Cooking, 1959 - also sans cover, but at $2.99 I had to have it.

I was distracted by a couple in one of the aisles with a baby nestled in one of those carriers. I smiled as I heard them laughing softly and as I turned to get a better look at the baby my smile froze.

That couple were working together, one pulling books from the shelves and the other hitting them with one of those ISBN scanner guns. The hair on my neck practically stood on end.

My impression is that these are not book lovers seeking treasure, but treasure seekers only. I shuddered and began to quickly scan the books working diligently before they hit that wall.

Christ, I don't know why it aggravated me so. They are only trying to make a living off of true book collectors. Maybe beginning a college fund for the baby. Yet, something is so wrong about that picture!

Later on I picked up a book, The Golden Key, published in 1976 - a reissue from the 1967 first edition with new reproductions of the pictures. It was small and appeared as if it had sat unattended and unread, untouched for a very long time ending up as junk at the Goodwill. The spine was a dingy color, different from the dust jacket. I liked the illustrations and I especially like the words of J.R.R. Tolkien on the inside book jacket. No ISBN. 50 cents. I added it to the small pile in my arms.

When I got home I felt compelled to look up the value of the book on Abe's Books.

$75.

I chuckled when I imagined them picking it up and putting it down unexamined because it did not have a visable ISBN.

Suckers! That smile returned to my face.

Just a Chance Encounter

I stand in the corner away from the lights of the displays, my nose in a regional cook book trying to memorize the ingredients to a Peach's & Cream recipe when I look up and lock eyes with him.

He begins to amble towards me, holding out a slip of paper with a single word scrawled on it "Sha kon o hey". He begins speaking to me as if we had just resumed a conversation - "...means blue smoke in the mountains Sha-kon-o-hey, it's Indian. It's how they saw the Smoky mountains. It's a Dolly Parton album and I have been looking and can not seem to find it."

I pulled our special and exclusive Dolly album from the carousel and began to run down the list of songs, "Nope not on this one, you may have to jump on the Internet to find it."

He was at least 75 years old and I was tempted to suggest one of his children or grand kids find it on Amazon. Something about his wispy raspy voice made me lean closer in to him to understand his soft words.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from central Kentucky. Where are you from?"

"I'm from West Virginia, I have an Uncle who practiced medicine in Lexington, a GYN guy, his son too".

For some reason - I do have this effect on men - he took out his wallet and began to show me photographs. "This was me in 1950", a very good looking young man with an "I know it all" smirk on his face, dressed in a military uniform. "Korea?" I asked, "Yes, both Korea and Viet Nam."

More pictures of a striking young man leaning against a spiffy old car! All in chrome. "I bet you wish you had that car now!" I exclaimed. "It was my Aunt's. Know how much she paid for it? 1800 dollars. People thought she was crazy. But it was loaded with chrome.

"Ever see a tin type?" He pulled out a small two inches by two inches and handed it to me. It had some wear and tear to it, I flipped it over and there was the date, some time around 1850.

"Your Grandparents?" I asked trying to do the math quickly in my head - "Yes, Grad Dad fought in the Civil War. He was in the Calvary. Fought in Gettysburg. Old Jeb Stuart(!!!!!) finally arrived and he brought my Grand father with him. Grandpa was captured and spent the rest of the war in a prison. Treated him real bad, those Yankees didn't feed them much. He got scurry. Got out two days after the war was over. He didn't care too much for Lincoln."

The door to the front area flew open and his wife came in and collected him. I followed him to the door.

"Be on the look out for that album" he said he was lead away.

Wow! You never know what stories reside within people.

LIBERATED

It was the final months of 2001 when my then boss (who was a big old Bear we called Biggie G and/or Coochie and/or Pockets depending on how we were feeling,unusually it was Cooch)(now that was a boss!!) called me back to the office for an important meeting!

We handed over our beepers and in return had placed in our hands cell phones!

Cell Phones!!

We had only been begging for years to have this ultra fast link to customers, our voice mail, to each other(!) and our bosses (Ahhh, rethink this!) alternative to the dreaded beeper going off with Cooch's number and 911 snuggled tightly behind it, maybe four or five times. The agony of driving around in a panic looking for a pay phone (remember those) to call, using your calling card which was an extremely long 10 or 127 string of numbers only to have his phone ring busy. And busy and busy. Voice mail hell.

Ah, the coveted cell phone. The link to humanity.

Years later and as many models (Gosh I hated that Nextel thing that would go off and interrupt my stream of idle day dreams as I tooled down some God forsaken back country road, making me jump and swear uncontrollably) I now find myself Cellphoneless.

Why?

Because Joe dropped his in a puddle of water and needed one pronto.

Why didn't we just go out and purchase him another? Good question! Could it be that he did indeed get a new cell phone last summer and extended his contract - only to destroy that phone (I think it was smashed when it flew off the top of his vehicle and run over) and was doomed to purchase the rattiest cheapest phone available from the store that day. Only he hated that phone! No one understood him. He would call and the first thing out of your mouth after he began talking and then it was your turn to respond was "What?" or "Huh?..........". So I bought him a new phone on fathers day and that is the phone that drowned in the puddle several weeks ago.

And his company is going to supply him with a Blackberry. We just don't know when. Could be today, maybe tomorrow, and hell maybe next month. Gosh, I hope it is not next year. So he took my SIM card out replacing it with his and thus I am liberated.

At first it did not feel that way. It took me a couple of days to realize I was not going to have it returned swiftly and I just accepted it, called my family and let them know what was going on.

As the days slowly turned into weeks - I find I am hardly missing my little friend any more. I made a trip to Nashville on the sly last week and left the guilt behind! I did not have to pick up the phone, explain I was in Nashville and then explain why! It was so cool! I just did it!

I did not realize what a ball and chain that portable link to the world really is.

Reign of Terror

She is an overbearing piece of work. And I refuse to allow her to get under my skin - at least no more than she already has. Thank God she is off to Florida for a vacation, when she mentioned in a "sales training meeting" (i.e. "Sell the way I tell you to!") I commented, "Hurricane season.", to which she replies, "Doesn't bother me, I was in Florida when Katrina came through".

"Bitch!!" I though in my head, "You don't know hurricane until you are evacuated form a shelter as a Category 5 is tearing the roof off and being driven off to God Knows Where on a bus with semi hysterical people in 140 mile per hour winds as pieces of buildings are hurtled in the path in front of you! And then, you have to get off the bus and run like your life depends on it....." but, I only said it in my head.

Yesterday, she changed the schedule before leaving and did not contact anyone. I was lucky because one of the "twins" ("They're twins!!They look nothing alike!!" but after almost two months, they are beginning to resemble one another.) called me to come in early because poor Wilma did not come in at her assigned time, which had been changed.

Wilma was beside herself when she showed up at the pre-change time. She was so concerned about a second write up, this being her second time "late" due to a schedule change.

Have I mentioned the Wilma is about 75 years old and a little dynamo whom I love dearly.

If it wasn't so tragic and tearing up peoples lives, it would be funny. But it is not even amusing anymore.

Everyone please pray and send positive thoughts my way as I am in the second phase of the interview process of a really cool job!!

Teenage Angst Redux

I know you have seen them. The couple who do not speak. Barely acknowledging each other. One with a book, maybe a newspaper. The other with a dreamy look, stirring the coffee. Or an expression of loneliness lost in thought. A comfortable/uncomfortable silence that engulfs a relationship.

Because I am slightly neurotic I have moments of panic when getting into a car with my husband for a long trip. Not only do I have to worry about the usual things like fighting over the radio (all the time), or getting lost (Boston) or God forbid, having to drive on the "wrong" side of the road (Ireland)or just the long boring drive (Memphis)I often fret over what I am going to talk about.

Because I have a tendency to babble and I have a slight flair of the dramatic I love to recite the plot's of my favorite South Park episode that I have discovered (Cartman and Butters partner up to hold hands during a field trip to a Living History Park and Butters' will not let go even when Cartman wants to sneak away to visit a Fun Park next door and Cartman is riding the bumper cars dragging Butters along side...).

The most recent babble session centered around a book I read many many years ago. I found this book sitting on my nephews book shelf once day last summer when I was scouting around for something to read and yes, I stole it! I finally got around to re-reading it last week. I doubt I was assigned to read it in High School because of the whole Catholic thing, but I did read it when I was a teenager.

The Catcher in the Rye.

Haunting and disturbing. I wonder how I processed this book when I was 14? As I discussed Holden Caulfield with Joe (who said, "I wish I had read the book and not the Cliff notes!")I found myself choking up about the kid who threw himself out of the window rather than be beat up by the bullies. I was describing Holden as a young boy who felt things so deeply that he just cracked up.

I read the book in two days and have been thinking about Holden a lot since then.

Too bad I will be taking a four hour drive by myself this morning.

How Long until I get Fired.

I have always had this problem. In retrospect it may be why I never I have never risen very high in any Corporation.

It's my attitude.

I try and keep a straight face when I am told how important it is to make sure the door closes behind me when I enter the stock room, because one time along time ago in another store, someone was followed into the stock room!!

I'm like, "Okay they were followed into the stock room and what? Held at knife point? Made to hand over the rubber duckies? Raped among the Yankee candles? Someone stole a box of Moon pies? Exited the building through the back door (alarms people!) and skipped out on a meal?"

"Please get into the habit of telling someone when you are leaving the floor." (OK! ASHLEY ASHLEY!!OVER HERE! I'M GOING TO THE BATHROOM TO CHECK ON THE MESS THAT OUR CUSTOMERS HAVE MADE! OK!!)

"Please do not talk to the cashiers/hostess/other sales clerks when there are customers on the floor. They need to be chatted up." (Give me a break!)

And it goes on and on. Ridiculous stuff that adhered to makes someone rise through the ranks!

At times I feel bad about my reaction to the totally absurd.

Take yesterday. We (me and the other new hire) were given the assignment to set up the new display of all the Thanksgiving stuff that just arrived. But first, we had to clean the area. Sweep the floor, wipe off the display case, dust off the wood burning stove, bring out all the new merchandise to the floor.

She took cleaning the wood burning stove.....30 minutes later she is still cleaning out the inside of the stove while I have swept the floor around the display, and the area around the store, wiped off the "ladder", brought out most all the items, and have begun to set up the window side of the display.

Before this torturous exercise was finished I learned, I do not play well with others. I would have preferred to have done the entire thing myself. Not that she was a slacker or anything like that, she was the opposite! She was too anal! I had the entire window side set up and then she starts giving me orders!

I also realize I do not like to take orders.

From anybody.

I give myself another month at the most.

Work Work Work Work!!!

And then get a check for $232.36.

I have no idea how people survive who work for minimum wage. This does not cover a car payment!! Let alone rent and food and gas and car insurance, utilities and clothes. No wonder people knock over banks all the time, apply for assistance and food stamps.

And I am working harder than I ever did for the beverage company!!

Go Figure.


My boss is too delicious not to TALK about. It has been my experience that working for a woman is equivalent to being locked in a room and listening to Motorhead until my ears bleed. I know this is a huge sweeping generality, but I would much rather work for a man.

Yet, this woman hired me, gushed over me (I loved it!!) and wondered why my application even sat for a day without someone contacting me immediately!

"I might be able to get along with this chick!" I thought to myself, "She really has it together!"

I bet if you asked her to name two things she knows about me personally, she might say I'm married and moved here from Louisville and that would be it.

On the other hand ask me what I know about her and I could write a book. The best eye popping tid bit I over heard her conversing about to the group of labor we confiscated from the dish room, was that she had been rear-ended in automobile accident six times.

That is SIX times people. As in S-I-X.

She is delicious! She is a fraternal twin and her brother has an IQ of 170. He took the SAT's while in 4th grade and was operating on a college level. While I began to ask questions, like did he enter college at age nine? Did he take advanced classes? Did he skip any grades? (which I already knew he did not because they are attending a 20 year High School reunion later this summer so the math tells me he did not).

A few days later I learn that she too is a genius, a functioning dyslectic, spent nine years running a book store, then 10 years in the apparel industry! "Good Lord" I exclaimed, "When did you start, when you were 12?"

No, she was 17.

She was not considered "smart" because no one knew she had dyslexia. Finally they tested her with an IQ test, not the kind a normal person takes for an assessment, but one that has six parts! She scored 150-170 on every part except distraction. She is very distracted.

I have noticed that. Not that she is a scatter brain, ("People think I'm ditsy and I like that. Allows me to get my way.") But she does many things at once and tends to walk away quite a bit. But, when she's focused - it's a little weird, because she walks away a lot again, but returns with a vengeance.

I could go on and on about her. I like her because she is so entertaining!

Yesterday we were doing a shift change and this little college kid comes in to take over the floor and Big Blond Amazon (because she is like 5-10 and wears these CLARK boot type shoes that make her tower over everyone!!)(and she has the most beautiful long natural blond hair you have ever seen!)asks me to "chat her in" but as I am meeting this person for the first time, I am obviously not traveling down the correct path for the BBA she decides to take over.

"We are having an excellent day! Excellent! $1,000 over last year! I have changed our stretch goal from $2400 to $3000. Now!! How are you going to accomplish this?"

This little girl scratched her chin and said, "I don't understand..." (she is a college student and I think is just being obstinate and resisting)...."I'll do what I usually do."

"No, that is not good enough! Things are going to change around here. You may have been use to non-customer service with A. but that is in the past."

"A. never implied that we ignore customers!....."

I walked away and let them tango for a full 15 minutes!!

A little later on the college kid told me she hated retail and wanted to wait tables but they needed her in retail.

I'd hate retail too if I had BBA breathing down my neck!

Anyway, it's interesting and ........

The pay sucks.

Be Prepared! Be Very Prepared!

Believing I had a job interview scheduled for Thursday I was surprised when I checked my e-mail late yesterday afternoon and there was a request to change it to - gasp!!@@##@**- today! I had a lot of scrambling to do because being the procrastinator that I am, I thought I had plenty of time to be prepared! The Girl Scout Motto, isn't it? Be prepared? I think I have made a mistake, along with long history of my mistakes, and it is actually the boy scout motto - but it fits. Always be prepared. Good words to live by. And die by.

I was not prepared to go to a job interview early in the morning. I thought I could find a hair stylist today or tomorrow. Yet, I found myself in front of the bathroom mirror trimming up my hair. Thank God the chopped unsymmetrical look is not all that uncommon.

The jacket I was planning on wearing looked good, but when I slipped it on I realized it was so very, very, very 1990-ish. All the way to the puffy padded shoulders. I whipped out the trusty scissors again and snipped out the pads and the jacket entered the 21st century, even if it now looked a little big one me. Looking big is better than padded.

In some weird bizarro world way, I really like the retail job I am working in the meantime. It allows me to be extremely nice to people, which is my true nature anyway. And the folding and refolding of shirts and tee's is very zen-like and relaxing. There is always something to do. Check the bathrooms, fold some tee's, face the candles, sort the stuffed animals, clean the finger prints off the windows. I'm a natural.

But, the pay stinks.

Maybe this other job will fall into place.

After all, I was prepared.

Let the Pictures Do the Talking

My New Hometown


You are greeted by a HUGE PINK ELEPHANT at the crossroads that lead to Tiny Town.


Across the State Line...where is Rock City?



I was a day late getting here and the grass that had threatened to overtake the run down and abandoned church had been cut...ruining the effect I was hoping to capture. Maybe in a few weeks....

Sepia Scenes

Brought to you by Sepia Scenes.

Ah New Haven. Not the New Haven you think, but the New Haven I called home for two years while living in North East Indiana. It actually was an area of Ft. Wayne, a Rail Road town that given time will grow on you. It is not uncommon for Joe to say "I wish we had never left" and I nod in agreement.

Retrospect is everything, isn't it? I would still be employed by the Beverage Co (and would have received my 10 year award!!dang!) and he would not have gone through the terrible year in Lou. working for a supervisor that nearly killed him...oh well,it is all in the past now. We have moved on.

I have found a job with a major restaurant chain in their Retail area. The orientation began yesterday. Four of us were being inducted into the Corporation and having the Employee Handbook read to us in between watching videos from the 1980's and eating our one free meal.

I am the oldest of the group of four. Out of the group of four, two are college students, three are women, one is a musician, and three are from Indiana.

Coincidence?

I think not. Hoosiers are taking over the world.

I continue to look another job that does not require me to work week-ends but I am relieved all the same.

I scream! You scream!

We all scream! For ice cream!

Picture this....trying to loose 20 pounds by pounding an elliptical machine but cruising through the Dairy Queen Drive Thru and asking, "Do you have the Candy Cotton Blizzards yet?"

And being told, "No, not yet."

Please please please! I love those things. What is it they use for that candy cotton flavor? Sort of like hot rocks...sort of not. What ever, I love it.

Long ago summer was officially announced by the sounds of the Mr Softy Truck approaching your street, driving very slow, allowing all the kids within hearing distance - and us kids had the ears of German Shepherds back then - enough time to run home and beg, cry, thrown ourselves on the ground and pound the floor for that one thin dime that would purchase a sprinkle cone.

They were gigantic cones with a little twist on top.

When my daughter was young the Mr Softy truck was replaced by a Popsicle man who flew through the neighborhood so fast you had to think he was meeting his drug connection at his apartment in a half hour.

No sooner would Bridget come running into our humble abode and shake me down for fifty cents for some sort of Bomb Pop, and back out on the street returning in minutes with tears in her eyes that she had missed him.

Poor baby. Hopefully he would swing back by and all the little kids who missed him would be waiting with their money clutched tightly in their sweaty hands.

It's officially summer.

The last Popsicle I bought was for a the little kid of a friend. Nothing says summer quite like the stained face smile of a child sucking the red white and blue off of a Bomb Pop.

On, Mr. Softy, will you please come back?

Sepia Scenes

Once again it's time for Sepia Scenes. How does a week pass so quickly?

Long ago, too many years to even estimate now, I "bought" my first digital camera with "company bucks" accumulated through a promotion and then used in a gift book. I was reluctant to join in the digital craze that was taking over the country as I loved my SLR Nikon and sometimes would take incredible pictures.

One of my friends tried to explain to me how much fun a digital was, what you could do with it, the programs available to refine the pictures, how digital was easier to store than film...and on and on and on.

Once I had that little premium camera in my hand, I never have once touched my old Nikon, except to move with all the other crap I have accumulated in my life time that I can not live without....

Anyway, this picture was from those first days of fooling around with the new technology. The freedom it gave you to take pictures of anything you damn well pleased...this was one of the results, now in Sepia. (because my friend was right all the time!)

Catholic School Girl Confessions Continued - Part III

Riding the Bus Home

After assembly in our homerooms and the official calling into the office for your smacks on the ass if you had misbehaved intolerably, the announcements for the next day and blah blah blah, the bell would ring and you were sprung free for the day.

We erupted through the two back doors of the building like projectile navy blue vomit the scene much like most high schools, I imagine. You either climbed on the bus, jumped into a car and burnt rubber out of there, or found your mother and/or someones mother and carpooled home.

I, for the first two years, climbed on one of the three city buses - since we were a private school we did not have Big Yellow Buses at our disposal, I believe they contracted with the city - got my ticket punched and found a seat among the yelling, screaming, writhing, gyrating teenage soup of blue and white. Usually I sat with Laura or Josie and endured the ride downtown. It was always an ordeal, no matter what.

I have blocked it from my memory.

Once downtown the bus deposited us at the corner of Broadway and Main. There was a 5&10 situated there and we would either slip in there for a coke, or go across the street to the bakery to purchase a cookie to split between us.

Downtown is where most kids transferred to other city buses to carry them home to their final destination.

But not me.

Oh No.

I trudged on down to the other end of Main Street and turned north, maybe I would turn north after going into the record store and checking out all the new LP's that arrived that week, then I would turn north and head up to the Greyhound Bus station.

Yes, my mother would not travel the 15 or so miles each afternoon to collect me from a school she was forcing me to attend. Oh no, she made me ride the Grey Hound Bus home each and every afternoon until I was a Junior.

My freshman year I was accompanied by K. K. was several years older than me and he too endured the ride on the Greyhound to Mayberry just for the privilege to attend Catholic High School. He was my partner in crime for that one year.

I never laughed so hard as I did with him on those rides home. I laughed until my sides ached and my jaws hurt. I am certain we disturbed every adult who rode on the that bus with us. At 3:50 it would leave the station and head towards Mayberry with a stop here and there along the way.

No one was spared our scrutiny and our obnoxious observations. We were brutal in our assessments of the people we rubbed shoulders with briefly and, unfortunately for a few, daily. We threw stuff at each other, we rehashed our day at school in high voices, we talked about our peers at school and what devious deeds they had been up to that day and then laughed like hyenas.

We cringed in horror at the grease spots on the windows that some poor soul, just trying to catch a few winks, would lay his head on the glass and dream. We would push each others head at the stains and shriek in disgust.

My friend K. can recite the entire itinerary as given over the loud speaker in the station. He remembers a lot more than I do. He rode the bus a total of three years, I only two. He remembers certain riders that climbed on daily with us.

Why they did not get us permanently kicked off I will never know. Maybe people were more tolerant back in those days.

K. would get off miles from town, at a country intersection where his mother waited in their family station wagon. He would ring the bell, stumble down the aisle because I more than likely tripped him and exit, leaving me alone, the bus oddly silent. Blessedly peaceful.

I would step off at the bus station in Mayberry and walk home from there.

I would see the Bus Station from time to time in Lexington and feel something tighten in my chest. Maybe it was the glimpse of the ghost of a young silly girl, in her navy blue sweater and pleated skirt rolled up at the waist, in her saddle oxfords and white bobby socks, running up the steps just barely in time to catch the bus, tears of hysterical laughter running down her cheeks as she chased after her friend K, who had her Latin book held above his head and threatening to toss it.

I want a new Drug

As I was pounding away on the elliptical machine listening to the music I had downloaded the first few minutes thinking I was not going to make it today, that maybe today I would just go over 20 minutes then quit. 20 minutes is good, 20 minutes is fat burning. 22 minutes is better, then when I open my tightly closes eyes, pressed so close together that if I try to see the time it is only blur, and if that blur says I have passed the 20 minuets mark, then I am almost half way to the 45 minutes I really want to ....reach.

My eyeglasses are perched under the screen that tells me how hard I am pumping, how fast I am going, how high my pulse is reaching, how long I have been sweating.

I think that Joe took the money he received from his first bonus as an officer in 2006 and bought this machine. He researched it on Consumer Report, did his homework. He could have purchases a cheaper one but went with this model and three moves later, it remains the Thoroughbred of fat burning machines. As many times as I have tried to destroy it, it triumphs.

And I keep on keeping on.

I remember how the runners high feels. A euphoric cushion of well being, of floating, of all things being almost perfect.

One night, many years ago Joe and I ran in our first 5K race on the downtown streets of Lex on a steamy August night with 5000 other runners. He was/is faster than me and as I approached the final stretch to the finish line he came bounding out from the crowd and made me run faster, faster and faster to finish the race. God Good what a feeling to finish your first race!

It was such an incredible high. It is a feeling that is akin to leaving your body and being just a little bit above you, hoovering and not with you anymore, but still within reach...

A runners high.

I pump those pedals and marvel at how my knees do not scream at me and how my mind says, "No not this song - yea this one- no next one - "

And then I am over 40 minutes and feel a flush of exhilaration and satisfaction and for two minutes flip through songs trying to find that last one, that last three minute song to bring it home....

And then I find it, Huey Lewis, "I Need A New Drug".

And I realize that I have.

The First Five Pounds

Coming up with something to write about daily is a real chore. This morning I had a thought and then lost it. Maybe tomorrow.

But, I have lost five pound so far, and it might be more as I have this crummy scale I bought a Goodwill for $2.00. I realized I had left our digital scale in Ft. Wayne, tucked beside the washer and dryer I left with the house. I could read that scale from my five feet five and 1/2 inches. I can not read the scale now, as it is too far away for my reading glasses and the long distance glasses just barely miss the mark.

But, if I bend down and balance myself and be very very still, it looks like five pounds. And could be more, because I was into it a good two weeks before I dared look at a scale.

Clothes are beginning to look different on me. Just a little. But it's enough to put a song in my heart and get me on the elliptical machine five days a week.

Thank God for the MP3 player.

Who the hell are the Black Keys? Don't know, but they were recommended by Rolling Stone and I love them! All two of them.

When I loose another 10 pounds (which I hope will be in the next six weeks) I am going to take up running again. If my old knees will agree. I've truly missed it.

There is a 10K in Lex the 4th of July....it's possible.

As all things are possible.

A Love Affair with Candy

I inherited a sweet tooth. A double whammy sweet tooth, as each of my parents are Irish and there is something about the Irish and their sweets. My father would pour three spoonfuls of sugar into this coffee each morning. We had to watch him, as he grew older he tended to loose count. Every evening, after dinner and seated side by side in their Electric Chairs (as my mother refers to them, as the seat raises to help you out), watching a western – as my father loved Westerns – my Mother would whip out her box of chocolates and offer the box to my Dad, who would take two, then Mom would take two and if you happened to be there, you would then be offered the box and you could take two too.

Every Christmas, Easter, Mothers Day,and Birthday she receives several boxes of confectionary delights, and at two pieces apiece, they last awhile. Now that Pop is gone, they last longer, but I think she now has three…one for him!

Bourbon Balls are my Mom's favorite. As a child I remember the Rebbecca Ruth bourbon ball’s box were housed in a round container, the balls stacked on top of each other. Mom would “hide” the box high up in her closet. As a little kid, I would push a chair to the closet and find that box, extract one and gnaw the chocolate then dispose of the bourbon soaked cream candy center. It was yucky back then to my child taste buds. Now a days, the more bourbon, the better!

When I was a kid there was a corner store in each neighborhood. The store would have a soda machine outside the store on the porch and on the inside were the basics one needed if one did not want nor need to make a trip to the A&P downtown. Milk, bread, canned veggies, and an ice cream cooler, a Coca Cola cooler in the back that held those 6oz. glass bottles and a large glass deli case with sandwich meats and where you could also have one made for you.

But the big attraction, the only reason I ever went into the store was for the candy!

The cash register sat on a wooden counter that held the gallon jars of pickles and pickled eggs. Behind the counter, running all along the back and around the window sill were the candy jars. Full of penny candy! Hot balls, pixie sticks, cinnamon balls, licorice, chocolate gold coins , chick-o-sticks, bazooka bubble gum, smarties, wax bottles, jaw breakers…everything you can imagine. The candy bars were displayed under the penny candy. Baseball cards, Red Hots, Mounds, Hersey bars, Zagnuts, Peppermint Patties,Good-N-Plenty, candy necklace, Pay Days, Sugar Daddy sucker, Necco’s, cigar bubble gum, Slo pokes, candy cigarettes -some even puffed out smoke!, red vine licorice twists, Boston Baked Beans, Turkish Taffy - in strawberry , vanilla, chocolate & banana which you would put in your freezer and then crack on the table making it split into pieces, Neapolitan coconut slices, Heath bars....I think that's about it.

Anytime you found a penny or -The God's are Smiling!- a nickel, we would run down to the store and slap down our loot, choose and point.

There was one candy bar that cost more than a nickel (remember, this is when dinosaurs roamed the earth). The Blue Monday, the ultimate of all candy bars, cost a dime! It was a large (back in the day I remember it being much larger than it is today) chunk of pulled cream candy covered in a semi bittersweet chocolate made locally. It was so sweet, I could not eat it all at once. It came in a shiny silver wrapper with blue lettering. You would slit one end open and when you could take no more, you would slide it back in and save it for later.

It’s a wonder I have any teeth left. I still love a Blue Monday every now and then and lament they are smaller than before. But rejoice that they still taste the same.

Like Childhood.

What I Hide In My Trunk

Everyone knows I am looking for a job. I am looking the way I have found every single job I have gotten in the past 20 years. That is, through the paper/want ads. It is not the want ad's any longer, but Career Builder, Whatever City Help Wanted.com, Company web sites, and numerous web sites I have found along the way.

I have written letters to people I know with my resume asking for help. This worked okay, I received 4 leads from 10 letters, but then I thought I was moving to Memphis to save my marriage, and it ended up being the Nashville/Clarksville/Ft. Campbell area.

My frustration is immeasurable.

I went to a Job Fair in Nashville and ran across another ex-Beverage employee, same company, different subsidiary. She was laid off from Waste Management after leaving Major Beverage Company. Major Beverage Company asked her to come back and she said no. I said, "May I send you my resume to pass on to your boss? I know they prefer to hire someone who knows what they are doing rather than having to train someone".

Never heard back from her. Need to contact her again.

I was in tears the other night over a conversation I had with my sister. We were yakking away about Joe's new job and the area and she said that her husbands father did some contract work for a Major company in this area. "That is Joe's biggest account here!" I exclaimed.

"One of the men from the Company is on the BOD for Joe's company in Lexington."

"I know! He sat at our table at a fund raising dinner for the mayor!"

"His name is P*** M***** and he came to our wedding."

"What!! You're telling me this major officer in L**** Corp. is a friend of yours!! Darling! I will have to call him and chat him up!"

"Please don't use my name."

WTF?

I was crushed. Joe keeps telling me that I am the only sane sister in my family. Ha! The part that truly hurts is that if the tables were turned, I would have taken time off from work to help her out.

A company that does direct sales and was going to hire me on the spot. I was suspicious! For several reasons. First, they were selling air purifiers and air in their office was putrid! Cigarette smoke so state that the Marlboro Man himself may have lit one up there. I was told how much money you can make at this company. Let me say this, they did not look like the epitome of success. I'll leave it at that.

Oh, just to add this. I interviewed in the training room and was looking at the dry erase board and read this...

Step One
Create repoir

Repoir?? What the hell -rapport?- even I, the worlds worst speller, knows that is wrong!

So, what do I have in my truck?

Employment applications for Cracker Barrel, MacDonalds, TJ Maxx, etc. etc. And I have filled them out and am returning them.

I am ashamed to think that I am now trying to land a minimum wage job. And I am equally ashamed that I will be thrilled if I am offered one!

At the Ballet

It's another Sepia Scenes Wednesday.

I'm not too sure this works as well in sepia as it does in color, but I wanted to use the photo this week. I love the way the little girl in the foreground is taking a break from the dance and how the other three year olds are doing their own thing.

And I like the motion going on with the girl to the left.

This is my grand daughters dance class that had a 40 minute recital Sunday. 40 minutes y'all! The last dance recital I went to lasted all afternoon. All After Noon. At my daughters dance recital, it went on all day. All Day!

Please check out the other's at Sepia Scenes.

Food Network Junkie

Sunday morning my Sister In Law and I watched Bobbie Flay BBQ, Guy’s Big Bite and finished it off with Rachel Ray. An hour and a half of mind numbing chatter, knives, blueberries on the grill, salmon, more BBQ sauce than you can shake a stick at, and seafood…blah blah blah blah.

We were fascinated and offered our own takes.

“I learn more stuff watching these shows. Have you heard of ceramic knives?”

SIL was not yet in a talking mood and just looked at me. “humprrrr” was what it sounded like.

But I do learn a lot and I love it. I am also in love with Guy, I want to run my fingers through his spiked hair. I want to ride in the red 1967 Camaro and visit the Diners Drive-in’s and Dives with him. I want to turn to the camera and say, “It’s money” and point at him.

I agreed with Rachael when she told me that she always makes her own BBQ sauce because that stuff you get at the store is usually just a lot of corn syrup.

I remembered my first batch of home made BBQ sauce. A friend of mine, from West Kentucky who knows a thing or two about BBQ, gave me a simple recipe a long time ago. Catsup, vinegar, honey/molasses and lemon juice.

It was so delicious that when we were finished the band-aid that I had on one of my fingers was missing – sure was good with that bar-b-que sauce-.

Tonight I did it again, only a little twist on the original basic West Ky finger licking good sauce.

One onion (a little smaller than a med) chopped up
2 cloves of garlic smashed and chopped
¼ c. vinegar
½ cup catsup
Big squirt of mustard
Worcestershire sauce - a good glop
Salt & pepper
½ c. light brown sugar
About ½ cup honey
Big squirt of lime juice (because I am out of lemons) (I would use a fresh lemon if I had one, the zest too)

I first put the onions and garlic in a pan with a glob of butter and cooked until nice and caramelized (I learned that word from Food Network!)Then I added the vinegar and cooked it until the vinegar was absorbed and very little moisture remained, maybe five minutes at most.



I put into a sauce pan and added the other ingredients and let it cook for about 1/2 hour until I had to stop myself from licking the wooden spoon.

It looked like this... (I had transferred it to a plastic container)

On to the grill for the charcoal cooking of the wings. I must have cooked them correctly because they never fired up. The sauce I apply at the end, after about 20 minutes, and coat one side, five minutes, turn, coat the other side, five minutes, then turn and coat, a minute or two, turn and coat again.

Remove and eat.

Thank God I removed all bandages before commencing to consume. Guy would have said, "That's money" if he had been here.