My Tired Really Hurts!!

Both the UI and WSU opened for fall semester on the 25Th. As I've said before, this is one of the busiest times of the year for business at my store.

I don't know whether the majority of students are sharing in a kazillion dollar lottery win, their parents are richer than a foot up a bull's butt, paying for everything, or they are just plain lazy. I say this because my business has always hired students to work part-time (or full-time if they want) to help with the extra business the academic year generates. This year however, getting students to even apply for a job is like pulling hens teeth. Of those who do apply, a majority can't pass the drug screen or, are so restricted on their availability, it is impossible to schedule them to fit our needs. I'm beginning to fear that earning your own way is sadly fading into obscurity.

This brings me to whining about why my Tired hurts. It goes without saying, that I am no spring chicken, which means that most of my get up and go has got up and went. However, I signed up to do a tough job, so for the past ten days I have worked my butt off. Well, maybe not literally, as it still has the same circumference, but I'll tell you, after ten days and 119 and 1/2 hours since my last day off, I am ready for my trip to Boise and some R&R. After about a half hour at home, I heard a knock on the door; it was my dragging-ass finally catching up with me.

There is not a cell in this old body which doesn't ache, every fingernail on my hands is broken, some past the quick, my cuticles look like they went through a meat grinder and I could put a final finish on a custom built piece of furniture with my sandpaper rough hands. I can hardly wait to see whether I can meet the challenge of putting on a pair of pantyhose for Eric and Jenn's wedding on Friday. (I wonder if gloves are back in fashion?) :) I threw freight, faced and pulled cardboard from the shelves, scrubbed floors and cleaned bathrooms, put baskets full of "I decided not to get this" items back on the shelves, and cashiered. This, along with the everyday paperwork, trying to hire people, personnel issues, getting bills paid, answering calls, dealing with vendors and taking care of customer needs.

Yes indeed, I've been working very hard but nothing compared to the folks who work graveyard stocking truck loads of freight, or cutting meat, trimming and stocking produce; those who keep the dairy full of milk, eggs, butter, etc; those who make hundreds of sandwiches & salads along with frying/baking chicken, slicing meats and cheeses; those who work constantly refilling bulk food bins and the bakers who keep fresh breads, rolls and goodies available for all to enjoy. My kudos go out to all of these people who keep the wheel greased, and lastly to the people who stand in one place all day long, legs aching, feet screaming, trying hard to keep a smile on their face, while their arms ache from scanning or weighing thousands of food items while checking out hundreds of people during a shift. All these people are the real heroes in my tired eyes and I want all to know that I appreciate each one for every ounce of effort they make to keep our customers happy with their shopping experience.

Ok, enough of this mushy stuff. Wahoo!! I'm on vacation and I plan to have a damn good one. See you when I get back.

Strange Minds Think of Strange things

On Friday my only grandson is getting married. I am excited for this event which has brought another event with it; all of my living siblings will be together for the first time since our oldest sister, Carol, passed away three and a half years ago. Bill, Lois, David, Dolores, MaryHell and me. We plan to spend Saturday at Dolores' house for a good and long past due visit. I am especially excited to see Bill because he is like a fart in a skillet...hard to keep up with. He travels a lot.

I stated that strange minds think of strange things because as I was thinking of the timeline between Carol's passing when we were last all together, I thought of the house Carol and Dave had lived in for about forty-five or fifty years. The house where they raised their family of five children. It was a very nice home, which Carol and Dave took great pride in, always keeping it well maintained and looking good.

It so happens that a couple of years after Dave passed away, developers came into that neighborhood and bought up every home there, planning to build a large shopping/office complex. Carol sold the property and moved into a brand-spanking new home. Just a few months before actually moving in, Carol was diagnosed with brain cancer. She died in that new home, never getting to truly enjoy it.

Meanwhile some of the homes in her old neighborhood were torn down and some where jacked up off their foundations onto steel girders for moving to a new site. Carol and Dave's home was one of the latter. It was temporarily moved to a lot not far from it's original plot of land, along with several others, waiting for someone to come along and buy it from the developer. This lot was on Yellowstone Avenue in Pocatello, Idaho. I have to say that Carol loved that home and all the memories that it held for her. Yellowstone is a main thoroughfare in Pocatello, so family and friends could see that house sitting there looking lonely and forlorn, as often as they drove that route to WalMart or the Pocatello mall.

A day or two after Carol had passed away, her friend since early childhood, Karen and her daughter Misty, were driving that route after dark. As they passed by, they noted that the lights were on in that house. So what, you say? Well that house was sitting on the moving trailer, or whatever it is called, and was not connected to any electric power, plumbing, water , or any of those things which bring life to a structure! Was it Carol, saying her final respects to her long time home or maybe soaking up the memories of all the years she spent there with her family? No one will ever know, but it was indeed a strange happening.