Is it just me, or are garage sales changing?
Many years ago, if you had a garage sale, you posted a notice in the newspaper and then placed maybe 20 signs all around your neighborhood advertising your sale date and location. Some municipalities require the seller to purchase a license to have the garage sale. Your garage sale day would arrive and you wake up to find a line of people waiting at your front door hoping to get dibs on whatever was on hand.
Today, I had my first garage sale since my mom died two years ago. As with all garage sales (and for all sellers) a lot of planning and junk sorting goes into these endeavors. This year was particularly difficult because I was going through my mother's belongings. I also have some items that belonged to my mom's sister (still living but in a nursing home). On top of all these, I still have my parents' large collection of books - many are classic literature and a must read for writers such as me.
I had purchased the sale license about three weeks ago and read Overland's requirements. Only two signs. Well, that sucks. Signs cannot be on telephone poles. Well, that sucks, too. I see the reasoning, but it still sucks. Signs on corner lots can't be placed without homeowner permission. Well, duh. I just wish I knew the neighbors at the corners near my house to ask their permission. So my advertising was limited to a nice little sign in front of my house. I also couldn't advertise my garage sale until the day before. So much for the newspaper. Facebook posting on various online garage sale sites will have to do. I'm trying so hard to embrace modern technology.
Going through my mother and aunt's belongings was a bit emotional. I felt like I was throwing out my family. Passing along my parents' personal library to outsiders felt like a mortal sin. I don't have room to keep all this stuff. However, we really need the money and I was hoping we would get a big crowd.
Last night, my husband and I went through the boxes and priced most of the items. I hate pricing. I have no idea how much a watermelon shaped wicker picnic basket is worth. There isn't really a Kelly Blue Book for junk. I think there's something like that for antiques, but I don't have any.
I was up most of the night preparing for this morning. I think I got about four hours of sleep before getting up to put tonight's dinner in the slow cooker and start taking stuff outside. This late June morning was cool and breezy. I'll take it - no rain today.
My garage sale only netted me $54. I kept posting pictures to the Facebook pages that showed up. People wanted online pictures and price quotes before coming out. Several people wanted the same things but if someone beat her to the item, someone else got mad. I didn't see any cruising cars. In fact, there were no lines of people on my front porch or driveway. I don't think I had more than a half dozen people all day.
I'm trying not to be ungrateful. The money from the garage sale was more than I had when I woke up this morning. I simply feel like I wasted my time. One customer came to the house wanting one particular item that I had. She showed interest in a few other items. When she was ready to pay, she didn't have enough money. She told us she would go to the bank and be right back. Yea. Sure you will. Never saw her again. My stuff is still here. Other customers would contact me on Facebook, say they were interested and never show up.
What happened to the adventure of driving all over town looking for garage sales? What happened to the anticipation of finding an obscure item that you like?
Today was a disappointment. So, I think I'll take my box of Caramel Crunch 'N Munch popcorn with peanuts (purchased with sale money), go sit in my corner and drown my sorrows. Then I'll take a nap.
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Friday, April 17, 2015
A Day in the Life of . . . me?
My job at Macy's is both fairly easy and incredibly difficult. The easy part is just doing my job. The incredibly difficult part is dealing with cranky customers, gross things left behind by disgusting customers, slow computers and pricing that won't cooperate.
This morning I woke up and began to cry. I am so burned out from my job and really need a change. My boss, Cassandra, knows this. I told her that working for her is what helps me get through my shift. Really, she is. She's a young manager, but she's mature beyond her years. While I can't talk to her about everything (she doesn't know what it is to deal with a 20 year old daughter), I can talk to her about customer situations and know that, for the most part, she is listening to me. In spite of that, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm tired of dealing with crabby people.
Today was the preview of the One Day Sale that all the employees hate, loathe and despise. Customers get ridiculous about these sales. Today I had a customer who barely understood English but insisted that she could override the $10 coupon on her $15 purchase going to someone else. (The coupon is $10 off $25 or more.) That customer was really the only problem customer I had - that is nothing short of a miracle. One customer was thrilled when I fixed a problem with a previous purchase, another customer was ecstatic that I found the pants she wanted to get for her daughter and another customer praised me for bravely chasing a man out of the women's fitting room. A grandmother purchased some clothes for herself and her daughter while her 12-month old granddaughter lifted up my spirits with her sweet smile and adorable giggles.
Cassandra met with me to go over my monthly score card for sales - high marks across the board. She was thrilled and so was I. Still no word on a raise, though.
Finally, my shift ended and I bolted out the door. Just as I rounded the corner from the employee entrance to the front of the store, I spotted a pigeon on the sidewalk. It was too close to the doors and when I came near it, it only backed away from me. It didn't fly away - just backed up and in circles. At first, I thought it had an injured wing, but it kept going around in circles. Backwards. Probably a head injury from flying into the glass windows above the doors. Other customers spotted it and went around it, but no offers of help. One of the cleaning ladies spotted me outside and came out wanting to know what we should do. I told her to get a box and some towels or rags. It took her awhile, but she returned as I was talking to another customer and his girlfriend about the bird. We fixed up the box and the guy gingerly picked up the bird and placed him in the box. I assured everyone that I would take the bird to a place I knew that would help him.
I raced home with the pigeon in the box. I told Big Jack and Jack Jr. about the bird. Jack Jr. called the Wild Bird Rehabilitation Center which is about a mile from my house. They had just shut off their phones for the night. Big Jack came with me while I drove over to the center to see if we could catch the volunteers before they left. As luck would have it, we got there just in time. We dropped off Macy (yes, we named him) in the very capable hands of the volunteers. Now to hope and pray that Macy will make it through the next few days and be as good as new.
Today was probably a better day than what I expected when I woke up this morning. Maybe God is trying to tell me that He's watching over me as well as Macy. (The bird, not the company)
This morning I woke up and began to cry. I am so burned out from my job and really need a change. My boss, Cassandra, knows this. I told her that working for her is what helps me get through my shift. Really, she is. She's a young manager, but she's mature beyond her years. While I can't talk to her about everything (she doesn't know what it is to deal with a 20 year old daughter), I can talk to her about customer situations and know that, for the most part, she is listening to me. In spite of that, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm tired of dealing with crabby people.
Today was the preview of the One Day Sale that all the employees hate, loathe and despise. Customers get ridiculous about these sales. Today I had a customer who barely understood English but insisted that she could override the $10 coupon on her $15 purchase going to someone else. (The coupon is $10 off $25 or more.) That customer was really the only problem customer I had - that is nothing short of a miracle. One customer was thrilled when I fixed a problem with a previous purchase, another customer was ecstatic that I found the pants she wanted to get for her daughter and another customer praised me for bravely chasing a man out of the women's fitting room. A grandmother purchased some clothes for herself and her daughter while her 12-month old granddaughter lifted up my spirits with her sweet smile and adorable giggles.
Cassandra met with me to go over my monthly score card for sales - high marks across the board. She was thrilled and so was I. Still no word on a raise, though.
Finally, my shift ended and I bolted out the door. Just as I rounded the corner from the employee entrance to the front of the store, I spotted a pigeon on the sidewalk. It was too close to the doors and when I came near it, it only backed away from me. It didn't fly away - just backed up and in circles. At first, I thought it had an injured wing, but it kept going around in circles. Backwards. Probably a head injury from flying into the glass windows above the doors. Other customers spotted it and went around it, but no offers of help. One of the cleaning ladies spotted me outside and came out wanting to know what we should do. I told her to get a box and some towels or rags. It took her awhile, but she returned as I was talking to another customer and his girlfriend about the bird. We fixed up the box and the guy gingerly picked up the bird and placed him in the box. I assured everyone that I would take the bird to a place I knew that would help him.
I raced home with the pigeon in the box. I told Big Jack and Jack Jr. about the bird. Jack Jr. called the Wild Bird Rehabilitation Center which is about a mile from my house. They had just shut off their phones for the night. Big Jack came with me while I drove over to the center to see if we could catch the volunteers before they left. As luck would have it, we got there just in time. We dropped off Macy (yes, we named him) in the very capable hands of the volunteers. Now to hope and pray that Macy will make it through the next few days and be as good as new.
Today was probably a better day than what I expected when I woke up this morning. Maybe God is trying to tell me that He's watching over me as well as Macy. (The bird, not the company)
Saturday, December 06, 2014
The Cake Odyssey is Winding Down
My STL250 cake quest is nearing an end. I still haven't reached all of the cakes, but I've decided not to worry about it. My adventures throughout the region, however, won't stop just because the anniversary celebration ends. I've learned a lot about my hometown and wish to explore further.
My most recent adventure to me to Grafton, Illinois to visit a winery which was hosting one of the celebration cakes. Now, keep in mind, the scenic Great River Road is a wonderful experience all by itself, especially in the fall where the bluffs are alive with fall color. Even though the peak fall color had already passed when I drove through, the afternoon sun was turning the trees to a vibrant bronze and I wish I could have pulled over to the side of the road (no place to do that) to take pictures. I could have taken a gamble and just stopped. There was no traffic on my side of the highway. But I'm not a speedy photographer and it would be just my luck that a huge truck would stumble on me as I pressed the shutter.
Once I arrived in Grafton, finding the street that leads to the winery wasn't too difficult. Highway 100, which runs along the river, is level and flat. Mulberry Road is, I'm not making this up, easily a 30 to 40 degree incline from the highway. The winery is roughly a quarter mile up this hill. Straight up. Narrow. Winding. Road. Did I mention the 30 to 40 degree incline? Hope heights don't bother you. By the time you reach the top, you NEED that bottle of wine. Oh, by the way, this would not be a good time to discover your car's transmission and/or brakes need work.
The view from Aerie's Riverview Winery is breathtaking to say the least. Now here's a bit of nature education for you. Aerie isn't just a cool sounding name someone picked out of a hat. Our national bird, the bald eagle, is such a special bird that her nest just can't be called a nest. No. An eagle's nest is actually called an aerie. Furthermore, eagles build their aeries high up in the trees because, well, they can. Hence, the name for this hill top winery is appropriate. I didn't sample any of their wines, so I can't tell you if they are good (no money and I'm really not a drinker).
The winery is rustic and pleasant. I'm told the food is great (again, no money to try a sample) and the zip line ride looks like fun for the very brave. Hey, I took on that hill - don't push it. After getting my pictures, I descended the hill - riding my brakes the entire way to Highway 100.
My most recent adventure to me to Grafton, Illinois to visit a winery which was hosting one of the celebration cakes. Now, keep in mind, the scenic Great River Road is a wonderful experience all by itself, especially in the fall where the bluffs are alive with fall color. Even though the peak fall color had already passed when I drove through, the afternoon sun was turning the trees to a vibrant bronze and I wish I could have pulled over to the side of the road (no place to do that) to take pictures. I could have taken a gamble and just stopped. There was no traffic on my side of the highway. But I'm not a speedy photographer and it would be just my luck that a huge truck would stumble on me as I pressed the shutter.
Once I arrived in Grafton, finding the street that leads to the winery wasn't too difficult. Highway 100, which runs along the river, is level and flat. Mulberry Road is, I'm not making this up, easily a 30 to 40 degree incline from the highway. The winery is roughly a quarter mile up this hill. Straight up. Narrow. Winding. Road. Did I mention the 30 to 40 degree incline? Hope heights don't bother you. By the time you reach the top, you NEED that bottle of wine. Oh, by the way, this would not be a good time to discover your car's transmission and/or brakes need work.
The view from Aerie's Riverview Winery is breathtaking to say the least. Now here's a bit of nature education for you. Aerie isn't just a cool sounding name someone picked out of a hat. Our national bird, the bald eagle, is such a special bird that her nest just can't be called a nest. No. An eagle's nest is actually called an aerie. Furthermore, eagles build their aeries high up in the trees because, well, they can. Hence, the name for this hill top winery is appropriate. I didn't sample any of their wines, so I can't tell you if they are good (no money and I'm really not a drinker).
The winery is rustic and pleasant. I'm told the food is great (again, no money to try a sample) and the zip line ride looks like fun for the very brave. Hey, I took on that hill - don't push it. After getting my pictures, I descended the hill - riding my brakes the entire way to Highway 100.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Little Miss Rosie
I may have mentioned in previous posts that we adopted a stray kitten almost a year ago. I remember when we "found" her (I think she found us) because it was two weeks after my mother passed away. We like to think that Mom is watching over us in the form of this stray kitten.
In the year that she has been part of our family, she has been a constant source of entertainment. Most mornings, we wake up to finding a sock or two on the floor that wasn't there the night before. I've caught Rosie sneaking away with socks from the dirty laundry and bringing them upstairs, properly deposited on the kitchen floor or dining room floor. She announces her gifts with a plaintiff cry. These gifts only happen at night when everyone is asleep. If I get the laundry caught up, she gets creative in her gift-giving. Dirty underwear, towels, slippers, gardening gloves and a winter scarf will make an appearance. We don't get mad at her. When picking one's battles, I'll accept dirty underwear over a dead mouse. You don't have to ask me twice.
Last night, I took down Rosie's collection of socks (12 this time) with the plan of working on the laundry in the morning. This morning. the same 12 socks reappeared in the dining room. Oh Rosie. My 19-year-old daughter told me she had a dream that Rosie brought up all the dirty laundry and was sitting on top of the pile looking so proud of herself. I think she may be plotting to do this very thing.
This isn't the only thing Miss Rosie does. Mealtime can be challenging because Miss Rosie thinks that people food is for her too. Our other cat, Rocky, is never interested in table food (lucky for us). Last night's dinner consisted of pork chops, mashed potatoes and carrots. Well, Rosie perched herself on my son's lap and tried to sniff his plate. He would gently push her head aside, letting her know that she couldn't have any. Once he began to cut his pork chop, she slipped her head underneath his arm and actually tried to get to the pork chop. One smart kitty. Or one determined kitty. You pick.
Little Miss Rosie, if you are my mom in spirit, could you please remember your table manners? Or at least put away the clean socks? We just love you to pieces.
In the year that she has been part of our family, she has been a constant source of entertainment. Most mornings, we wake up to finding a sock or two on the floor that wasn't there the night before. I've caught Rosie sneaking away with socks from the dirty laundry and bringing them upstairs, properly deposited on the kitchen floor or dining room floor. She announces her gifts with a plaintiff cry. These gifts only happen at night when everyone is asleep. If I get the laundry caught up, she gets creative in her gift-giving. Dirty underwear, towels, slippers, gardening gloves and a winter scarf will make an appearance. We don't get mad at her. When picking one's battles, I'll accept dirty underwear over a dead mouse. You don't have to ask me twice.
Last night, I took down Rosie's collection of socks (12 this time) with the plan of working on the laundry in the morning. This morning. the same 12 socks reappeared in the dining room. Oh Rosie. My 19-year-old daughter told me she had a dream that Rosie brought up all the dirty laundry and was sitting on top of the pile looking so proud of herself. I think she may be plotting to do this very thing.
This isn't the only thing Miss Rosie does. Mealtime can be challenging because Miss Rosie thinks that people food is for her too. Our other cat, Rocky, is never interested in table food (lucky for us). Last night's dinner consisted of pork chops, mashed potatoes and carrots. Well, Rosie perched herself on my son's lap and tried to sniff his plate. He would gently push her head aside, letting her know that she couldn't have any. Once he began to cut his pork chop, she slipped her head underneath his arm and actually tried to get to the pork chop. One smart kitty. Or one determined kitty. You pick.
Little Miss Rosie, if you are my mom in spirit, could you please remember your table manners? Or at least put away the clean socks? We just love you to pieces.
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Oh, The Places I Go!
This year is the 250th anniversary of the founding of St. Louis. Part of the year-long celebration is the public invitation to find 250 birthday cakes that are sprinkled all over town. I believe I've photographed 58 cakes so far.
I try to incorporate some of the cake odyssey in with the usual errands that may take me near their locations. Sometimes, it takes a special road trip. For instance, my daughter drove me out to Eureka/Pacific area to capture the cakes at Lone Elk Park and World Bird Sanctuary. None of my errands take me out there.
Most of the time, I'm in a rush to capture these pictures. Illegal parking is becoming the norm and occasionally I will deliberately drive the wrong way down a one-way street if it means getting me back to where I want to be. (shshshshsh - don't tell the cops!) Taking pictures of the cake at the Soldier's Memorial on Market Street meant being under the watchful stare of not one, but two, security guards. They weren't worried about me doing anything in the Memorial. They were guarding the set up for the upcoming filming of American Ninja Warrior and didn't want me to mess with anything. No prob guys. Once I started to leave the Memorial, one of the guards chatted with me a bit about the show. I told her that we could honestly say we were on the set and that we are sooo ninja that we were there and the audience couldn't see us. Works for me.
Better than a dozen of the cakes are located in Illinois. Since I have family in Illinois, this really isn't a big deal. Just make a run to visit a relative and then go cake hunting. My elderly aunt was recently relocated to a nursing home in the same town she's lived in most of her life. Since she's almost my only living relative on my side of the family, I try to make a point of going to see her. She has no children, so I'm the closest thing to a daughter she has. Last month, I met with a friend who grew up next door to my aunt and we visited Aunt Dolores. The day was fun and Susan took me to see the Giant Catsup Bottle in Collinsville. No one in my family ever mentioned the Catsup Bottle and Susan couldn't believe I never saw it before. Well, knock this one off my bucket list - the cake was located underneath the Catsup Bottle and I have both on record.
Today I went back to visit Aunt Dolores to deliver some plaques I made for her. While driving into Collinsville, I began to cry. Fond old memories rushed over me. As a child, I always saw Collinsville as a haven of peace and the place where my beloved grandparents and aunt and uncle lived. I made it to the nursing home, and had a wonderful visit with my aunt. She loved the plaques I made for her and I arranged for the maintenance people to hang them up. After the visit, I headed south towards Belleville for the beginning of my cake adventure. I mapped out everything before leaving home, so I was pretty sure I would be just fine. The big plan was to get one in Belleville and the two in Cahokia. I had never been to Cahokia. Aunt Dolores thinks I'm pretty gutsy. If she only knew.
The National Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows was lovely and so different from the last time I saw it (some 25 years ago). I spent some time in the Lourdes Grotto where I let loose the tears of grief. I would have stayed a little longer, but my nose was getting sloppy and the tissues were in the car. Once I regained myself, I headed towards new territory - Cahokia, Illinois.
Cahokia is one of the oldest towns in the area - predating St. Louis by about 50 years. It was a trading post and a military outpost for the colonists living nearby. Looking at the map, I knew Cahokia's proximity to East St. Louis was a little closer than I cared for, but I forged ahead anyway. If the neighborhood didn't look safe to me, I would just turn around and go home. HA! I'm not giving up that easily! Gas prices are $3.42/gallon. I'm getting those pictures!
There isn't much to Cahokia because the town keeps getting flooded. A lot. Stretches of run-down buildings next to new shopping centers with a respectable amount of customers in the parking lots kind of told me that Cahokia is trying to survive and thrive. The map I printed turned out to be useless and I found myself on the street I was looking for. Fortunately, the brown road signs pointing to historic landmarks were my salvation. I found the Old Cahokia Courthouse and the Holy Family Catholic Church. Both buildings were built before Mr. Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence. I felt like I was walking on hallowed ground.
The caretaker for the Old Courthouse talked to me for awhile and even gave me a personal tour of the courthouse. The courthouse wasn't completely original because it had fallen to ruin, been put back together, moved to the 1904 World's Fair and then to Chicago. In the 1940's, it was finally returned to Cahokia and rebuilt to resemble what it may have looked like when Lewis and Clark were gearing up for their trip west. It was all so incredible and overwhelming. I think I could have spent hours there, but I wasn't comfortable taking up too much of the man's time. While he was friendly enough and very informative, I didn't like being alone with a man in a building where I wasn't sure I could get help if I needed it. I'm sure this gentleman had no intention of any harm at all. Just a security issue for me.
Once I completed my quest, I headed back out on the road to go home. My plan was to pick up the highway that would take me back to Collinsville and safely to St. Louis. It would have been a rather round-about route, but I would be skirting East St. Louis and the extra travel and gas would have been worth it to me. Nope. I passed the exit for 157 and headed straight down Route 3 into East St. Louis and Sauget because I saw the signs indicating the highway I needed to get to St. Louis was straight ahead. Idiot!
For those who don't know, East St. Louis and Sauget are home to a wonderful collection of gangs, strippers, hookers, drug dealers, mob people and strip clubs. In fairness to the residents of these communities, not everyone there is bad. I'm just not interested in finding out who's a good guy and who isn't. Sadly, there are about four birthday cakes in East St. Louis as well and I've been trying to decide if I should risk it by finding them. Not alone, of course.
The drive through East St. Louis and Sauget was shorter than expected and blessedly uneventful. I reached the highway I needed and trudged my way through rush hour traffic to home. I think the rush hour traffic was probably more dangerous than the jaunt through Sauget!
 |
| Regional Arts Center, St. Louis, MO |
I try to incorporate some of the cake odyssey in with the usual errands that may take me near their locations. Sometimes, it takes a special road trip. For instance, my daughter drove me out to Eureka/Pacific area to capture the cakes at Lone Elk Park and World Bird Sanctuary. None of my errands take me out there.
Most of the time, I'm in a rush to capture these pictures. Illegal parking is becoming the norm and occasionally I will deliberately drive the wrong way down a one-way street if it means getting me back to where I want to be. (shshshshsh - don't tell the cops!) Taking pictures of the cake at the Soldier's Memorial on Market Street meant being under the watchful stare of not one, but two, security guards. They weren't worried about me doing anything in the Memorial. They were guarding the set up for the upcoming filming of American Ninja Warrior and didn't want me to mess with anything. No prob guys. Once I started to leave the Memorial, one of the guards chatted with me a bit about the show. I told her that we could honestly say we were on the set and that we are sooo ninja that we were there and the audience couldn't see us. Works for me.
Better than a dozen of the cakes are located in Illinois. Since I have family in Illinois, this really isn't a big deal. Just make a run to visit a relative and then go cake hunting. My elderly aunt was recently relocated to a nursing home in the same town she's lived in most of her life. Since she's almost my only living relative on my side of the family, I try to make a point of going to see her. She has no children, so I'm the closest thing to a daughter she has. Last month, I met with a friend who grew up next door to my aunt and we visited Aunt Dolores. The day was fun and Susan took me to see the Giant Catsup Bottle in Collinsville. No one in my family ever mentioned the Catsup Bottle and Susan couldn't believe I never saw it before. Well, knock this one off my bucket list - the cake was located underneath the Catsup Bottle and I have both on record.
Today I went back to visit Aunt Dolores to deliver some plaques I made for her. While driving into Collinsville, I began to cry. Fond old memories rushed over me. As a child, I always saw Collinsville as a haven of peace and the place where my beloved grandparents and aunt and uncle lived. I made it to the nursing home, and had a wonderful visit with my aunt. She loved the plaques I made for her and I arranged for the maintenance people to hang them up. After the visit, I headed south towards Belleville for the beginning of my cake adventure. I mapped out everything before leaving home, so I was pretty sure I would be just fine. The big plan was to get one in Belleville and the two in Cahokia. I had never been to Cahokia. Aunt Dolores thinks I'm pretty gutsy. If she only knew.
The National Shrine of Our Lady of the Snows was lovely and so different from the last time I saw it (some 25 years ago). I spent some time in the Lourdes Grotto where I let loose the tears of grief. I would have stayed a little longer, but my nose was getting sloppy and the tissues were in the car. Once I regained myself, I headed towards new territory - Cahokia, Illinois.
Cahokia is one of the oldest towns in the area - predating St. Louis by about 50 years. It was a trading post and a military outpost for the colonists living nearby. Looking at the map, I knew Cahokia's proximity to East St. Louis was a little closer than I cared for, but I forged ahead anyway. If the neighborhood didn't look safe to me, I would just turn around and go home. HA! I'm not giving up that easily! Gas prices are $3.42/gallon. I'm getting those pictures!
 |
| Holy Family Catholic Church - Cahokia, IL |
There isn't much to Cahokia because the town keeps getting flooded. A lot. Stretches of run-down buildings next to new shopping centers with a respectable amount of customers in the parking lots kind of told me that Cahokia is trying to survive and thrive. The map I printed turned out to be useless and I found myself on the street I was looking for. Fortunately, the brown road signs pointing to historic landmarks were my salvation. I found the Old Cahokia Courthouse and the Holy Family Catholic Church. Both buildings were built before Mr. Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence. I felt like I was walking on hallowed ground.
The caretaker for the Old Courthouse talked to me for awhile and even gave me a personal tour of the courthouse. The courthouse wasn't completely original because it had fallen to ruin, been put back together, moved to the 1904 World's Fair and then to Chicago. In the 1940's, it was finally returned to Cahokia and rebuilt to resemble what it may have looked like when Lewis and Clark were gearing up for their trip west. It was all so incredible and overwhelming. I think I could have spent hours there, but I wasn't comfortable taking up too much of the man's time. While he was friendly enough and very informative, I didn't like being alone with a man in a building where I wasn't sure I could get help if I needed it. I'm sure this gentleman had no intention of any harm at all. Just a security issue for me.
Once I completed my quest, I headed back out on the road to go home. My plan was to pick up the highway that would take me back to Collinsville and safely to St. Louis. It would have been a rather round-about route, but I would be skirting East St. Louis and the extra travel and gas would have been worth it to me. Nope. I passed the exit for 157 and headed straight down Route 3 into East St. Louis and Sauget because I saw the signs indicating the highway I needed to get to St. Louis was straight ahead. Idiot!
For those who don't know, East St. Louis and Sauget are home to a wonderful collection of gangs, strippers, hookers, drug dealers, mob people and strip clubs. In fairness to the residents of these communities, not everyone there is bad. I'm just not interested in finding out who's a good guy and who isn't. Sadly, there are about four birthday cakes in East St. Louis as well and I've been trying to decide if I should risk it by finding them. Not alone, of course.
The drive through East St. Louis and Sauget was shorter than expected and blessedly uneventful. I reached the highway I needed and trudged my way through rush hour traffic to home. I think the rush hour traffic was probably more dangerous than the jaunt through Sauget!
Monday, April 21, 2014
Raising Awareness . . .
Aware (adj.) - 1. having knowledge or realization; conscious. 2. informed. awareness (n) *Random House Webster's Dictionary Fourth Edition
Almost everyday, I see something or hear something in the news or on Facebook about a group of people raising awareness for some worthy cause - Autism, Heart Disease, Child Abuse, Alzheimers, etc. We even have national awareness days for pancakes, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, people with red hair, various ethnic groups, and so on. All of this is wonderful, fun, and eye-opening. Hence, the name, Awareness.
I would also like to raise awareness of a social problem that is sorely overlooked. The neglect and abandonment of shoes. Drive along any highway, side street or parking lot and you will find a lost shoe somewhere. Some are dress shoes, but most are athletic shoes. Some of these shoes are so beat up that they are almost unrecognizable.
Shoes protect your feet from the dangers of the outside world. They withstand the onslaughts of puddles, gravel, dirt, gum, glass, your sweaty feet, dog poo, other people's feet, puppy teeth, and extreme temperatures of heat and cold. They do this without complaint. They are loyal - always stay where you left them. They can make you look dazzling, help you cross the finish line or land that job. They are truly Man's best friend.
Yet, we treat them so shabbily. They are cast aside, like, well, a worn out shoe. The abuse must stop. Let's find a loving home for these poor cast-offs. Only we can stop the madness.
*Clip art by Graphxpro/Redbubble
Almost everyday, I see something or hear something in the news or on Facebook about a group of people raising awareness for some worthy cause - Autism, Heart Disease, Child Abuse, Alzheimers, etc. We even have national awareness days for pancakes, chocolate chip cookies, ice cream, people with red hair, various ethnic groups, and so on. All of this is wonderful, fun, and eye-opening. Hence, the name, Awareness.
I would also like to raise awareness of a social problem that is sorely overlooked. The neglect and abandonment of shoes. Drive along any highway, side street or parking lot and you will find a lost shoe somewhere. Some are dress shoes, but most are athletic shoes. Some of these shoes are so beat up that they are almost unrecognizable.
Shoes protect your feet from the dangers of the outside world. They withstand the onslaughts of puddles, gravel, dirt, gum, glass, your sweaty feet, dog poo, other people's feet, puppy teeth, and extreme temperatures of heat and cold. They do this without complaint. They are loyal - always stay where you left them. They can make you look dazzling, help you cross the finish line or land that job. They are truly Man's best friend.
Yet, we treat them so shabbily. They are cast aside, like, well, a worn out shoe. The abuse must stop. Let's find a loving home for these poor cast-offs. Only we can stop the madness.
Monday, January 06, 2014
Blizzard of 2014
Okay, my family and I are bundled down, warm and well-fed, on what is the coldest Arctic blast to hit St. Louis in two decades. We also got pummeled with around ten inches of snow. Now I can remember the blizzard of 1982 and this one, while still severe, doesn't compare to that one. Reminiscing, however, doesn't change what is today.
After watching the snow fall all day yesterday, I'm looking out my windows on a new sunny day and see what the storm left behind. The snow in all its glistening glory covering every surface possible. The high winds have blown the snow into drifts that make the landscape very deceptive. My backyard has been turned into an artist's canvas of lines and dimensions. In one part of the yard, the wind has blown the snow so that it looks like Saturn's rings extending about ten feet into the yard. Closer to the back deck looks like those rice beds in China along the side of a mountain or tiered gardens in Peru. My little tricycle planter on the deck is almost completely covered in snow; the handles peeking out on top.
I spent yesterday cooking and baking so today we can eat without a lot of preparation. Of course, this arrangement won't last long. Tomorrow I will cook some more. I find it both funny and a little comforting that sometimes, Nature (and God) force humanity to stop the hustle and bustle and rest for awhile. This blizzard has achieved that for me. While laundry and dishes are a daily chore that will never go away, cooking on a larger scale is a challenge that can be met when all other obligations are removed. Since I can't get out of my driveway, I make do with what I have in my refrigerator and pantry. I am, by no means, a creative cook, but I am a pretty good cook and with the help of the Internet, I can put together a tasty meal.
Our two cats have expressed their opinions of the snow - they are not amused. Sami took each one out and they wanted back in immediately. Rosie, the stray we adopted, is a small cat and when Sami put her in the snow, all you could see were her ears. Rocky, our older cat, hissed at the snow and wanted no part of it.
Today is going to be spent huddled under blankets, reading, watching movies or surfing the 'Net. Kind of a nice change, really. Maybe we'll face snow shoveling tomorrow. Today, we rest. And stay warm.
After watching the snow fall all day yesterday, I'm looking out my windows on a new sunny day and see what the storm left behind. The snow in all its glistening glory covering every surface possible. The high winds have blown the snow into drifts that make the landscape very deceptive. My backyard has been turned into an artist's canvas of lines and dimensions. In one part of the yard, the wind has blown the snow so that it looks like Saturn's rings extending about ten feet into the yard. Closer to the back deck looks like those rice beds in China along the side of a mountain or tiered gardens in Peru. My little tricycle planter on the deck is almost completely covered in snow; the handles peeking out on top.
I spent yesterday cooking and baking so today we can eat without a lot of preparation. Of course, this arrangement won't last long. Tomorrow I will cook some more. I find it both funny and a little comforting that sometimes, Nature (and God) force humanity to stop the hustle and bustle and rest for awhile. This blizzard has achieved that for me. While laundry and dishes are a daily chore that will never go away, cooking on a larger scale is a challenge that can be met when all other obligations are removed. Since I can't get out of my driveway, I make do with what I have in my refrigerator and pantry. I am, by no means, a creative cook, but I am a pretty good cook and with the help of the Internet, I can put together a tasty meal.
Our two cats have expressed their opinions of the snow - they are not amused. Sami took each one out and they wanted back in immediately. Rosie, the stray we adopted, is a small cat and when Sami put her in the snow, all you could see were her ears. Rocky, our older cat, hissed at the snow and wanted no part of it.
Today is going to be spent huddled under blankets, reading, watching movies or surfing the 'Net. Kind of a nice change, really. Maybe we'll face snow shoveling tomorrow. Today, we rest. And stay warm.
Thursday, December 26, 2013
Hey, Wait! Where Did Christmas Go?
The Christmas season wrapped up at midnight, December 25, and I must say, it was the fastest season on record. Thanksgiving was a bit later this year, but Christmas itself seemed to zoom by.
This Christmas was the first Christmas without my mother. My husband's beloved uncle in New Jersey also passed away just a few weeks ago. All of us were sort of dreading this holiday - we weren't sure what to expect. My son put it very well today - Christmas came and went before we even noticed it. Macy's kept me so busy that I didn't have time to do much decorating. There's a wreath on the door and that's about it. I sent out Christmas cards - but the list was very short. I, somehow, managed to bake cookies for people at work My daughter was busy working at the movie theater or out with her friends. My husband had a host of health issues that demanded much of our attention. Even Christmas dinner wasn't a big deal - pork roast and vegetables in cheese sauce. Cherry pie for dessert.
I'm not sure if we are out of the woods just yet. On Christmas Eve morning, I received a call from a member of my uncle's family - my only living aunt (Mom's older sister) was in the hospital. Dehydration and bad nutrition led to her being rushed to the emergency room. All I could think of was, "Here we go again."
Maybe the lesson here is that life goes on in spite of ourselves. I feel like my mom nudged me a bit on Thanksgiving Day and gave me permission to enjoy the holiday. While I was so busy my head was spinning, I didn't feel depressed. My daughter, however, told me she missed her grandma and was sad. I guess it was a good thing she was busy with work.
This Christmas was the first Christmas without my mother. My husband's beloved uncle in New Jersey also passed away just a few weeks ago. All of us were sort of dreading this holiday - we weren't sure what to expect. My son put it very well today - Christmas came and went before we even noticed it. Macy's kept me so busy that I didn't have time to do much decorating. There's a wreath on the door and that's about it. I sent out Christmas cards - but the list was very short. I, somehow, managed to bake cookies for people at work My daughter was busy working at the movie theater or out with her friends. My husband had a host of health issues that demanded much of our attention. Even Christmas dinner wasn't a big deal - pork roast and vegetables in cheese sauce. Cherry pie for dessert.
I'm not sure if we are out of the woods just yet. On Christmas Eve morning, I received a call from a member of my uncle's family - my only living aunt (Mom's older sister) was in the hospital. Dehydration and bad nutrition led to her being rushed to the emergency room. All I could think of was, "Here we go again."
Maybe the lesson here is that life goes on in spite of ourselves. I feel like my mom nudged me a bit on Thanksgiving Day and gave me permission to enjoy the holiday. While I was so busy my head was spinning, I didn't feel depressed. My daughter, however, told me she missed her grandma and was sad. I guess it was a good thing she was busy with work.
Monday, November 25, 2013
Life, Death and the Holidays
Somehow the holidays always seem to sneak up on me. I know I'm not alone in this observation. However, for our family, this holiday season is drastically different.
Last August, we lost my mother. After almost 91 years, her heart, mind and body finally decided enough was enough and she joined her brother, parents and my father in Heaven. While I know she is in a better place, I and my family miss her dearly. Someone posted on Facebook a few days ago a little sentiment, "I wish there were visiting hours in Heaven." Today, I wished that more than anything. Today wasn't anything special. It was just another day with Thanksgiving looming in the almost immediate future. I'm not cooking this year. Neither is my aunt - my mother's older sister. We have chosen to eat out this Thanksgiving. Any other Thanksgiving, I would have regarded this as sacrilege. My aunt was concerned that we would be insulted by the idea. Not this year.
Shortly after Mom's passing, we acquired a stray cat. The plan was to find her owners or turn her over to the Humane Society. After two months, no one came forward to claim her and we had become attached. We named her Rosie. Nosie Rosie would be a better fit. She is in everything. She's no longer a kitten; the vet put her at about a year old. Rosie has a personality that is all diva, and Rocky, our older male cat, isn't so sure he likes the idea. However, they have learned to like each other and sometimes sleep together on Big Jack's recliner or my lap. I wish Mom were alive to see them. Rosie would have had Mom laughing until she cried.
Big Jack's mental and physical health issues are taking their toll on all of us. We've made adjustments in his medicines for his psychiatric problems and now his kidneys are rebelling against him. Since last spring, he has had a total of 7 kidney stones. This latest one had to be surgically removed through his back. The thing was the size of a golf ball and the doctor believes there may still be more. Needless to say, Jack is in agony and I'm exhausted.
The pressure of the holidays is always the same. However, this year, we will be absent from a lot of the holiday traditions. We haven't really decided if we want to decorate for Christmas. I don't think I'll be baking cookies or anything else. Maybe we'll try being normal next year.
Last August, we lost my mother. After almost 91 years, her heart, mind and body finally decided enough was enough and she joined her brother, parents and my father in Heaven. While I know she is in a better place, I and my family miss her dearly. Someone posted on Facebook a few days ago a little sentiment, "I wish there were visiting hours in Heaven." Today, I wished that more than anything. Today wasn't anything special. It was just another day with Thanksgiving looming in the almost immediate future. I'm not cooking this year. Neither is my aunt - my mother's older sister. We have chosen to eat out this Thanksgiving. Any other Thanksgiving, I would have regarded this as sacrilege. My aunt was concerned that we would be insulted by the idea. Not this year.
Shortly after Mom's passing, we acquired a stray cat. The plan was to find her owners or turn her over to the Humane Society. After two months, no one came forward to claim her and we had become attached. We named her Rosie. Nosie Rosie would be a better fit. She is in everything. She's no longer a kitten; the vet put her at about a year old. Rosie has a personality that is all diva, and Rocky, our older male cat, isn't so sure he likes the idea. However, they have learned to like each other and sometimes sleep together on Big Jack's recliner or my lap. I wish Mom were alive to see them. Rosie would have had Mom laughing until she cried.
Big Jack's mental and physical health issues are taking their toll on all of us. We've made adjustments in his medicines for his psychiatric problems and now his kidneys are rebelling against him. Since last spring, he has had a total of 7 kidney stones. This latest one had to be surgically removed through his back. The thing was the size of a golf ball and the doctor believes there may still be more. Needless to say, Jack is in agony and I'm exhausted.
The pressure of the holidays is always the same. However, this year, we will be absent from a lot of the holiday traditions. We haven't really decided if we want to decorate for Christmas. I don't think I'll be baking cookies or anything else. Maybe we'll try being normal next year.
Thursday, July 04, 2013
4th of July Reflections
Today we celebrate the anniversary of our country's Declaration of Independence from a tyrannical monarchy. The fireworks, parades, and fairs are always the highlight of an American summer.
On this day, my son and I went for a two-hour drive (each way) to Hannibal, Missouri - nicknamed America's Hometown. Hannibal, as most people know, is the hometown of Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain. This historic river town is home to Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher, Aunt Polly and a host of iconic characters that draw us back to a time when riverboats ruled and life moved at a slower pace.
Sadly, Hannibal today isn't the quaint river town that most of us imagine. Many historic buildings have fallen into terrible disrepair. The Becky Thatcher House just reopened after a four-year renovation, but the Grant Drugstore is so bad, it's too dangerous to allow people to do any more than look in a window. An employee of an art gallery we met told us that renovations have been going on in the last ten years, but much more work needs to be done. I shake my head and wonder what Mark Twain would think about his home town if he saw it today.
In spite of my melancholy over Hannibal's deterioration, my son and I had a good time while there. The craft show was lovely, the carnival was fun, and while the fence painting contest wasn't quite what we were expecting, we enjoyed the visit. We finished our day with dinner at the local diner - Mark Twain Dinette and Family Restaurant. The diner celebrated 70 years last year and is clearly a popular eatery. The food was great and atmosphere very friendly.
We didn't stay for the fireworks in Hannibal. My son was tired and wanted to go home, so we made the drive home in time to see the fireworks in our own neighborhood. For the first time, my husband and I were able to watch the show from five different locations around our house from the comfort of our front porch. The "official" show was two miles away and not really visible from our house, but the neighbors put on a really good show. Noisy, but wonderful all the same.
I'm so thankful for a lovely day to celebrate our nation's birth, our Constitutionally guaranteed freedoms, and spend time with one of my very favorite guys.
On this day, my son and I went for a two-hour drive (each way) to Hannibal, Missouri - nicknamed America's Hometown. Hannibal, as most people know, is the hometown of Samuel Clemens, aka Mark Twain. This historic river town is home to Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, Becky Thatcher, Aunt Polly and a host of iconic characters that draw us back to a time when riverboats ruled and life moved at a slower pace.
Sadly, Hannibal today isn't the quaint river town that most of us imagine. Many historic buildings have fallen into terrible disrepair. The Becky Thatcher House just reopened after a four-year renovation, but the Grant Drugstore is so bad, it's too dangerous to allow people to do any more than look in a window. An employee of an art gallery we met told us that renovations have been going on in the last ten years, but much more work needs to be done. I shake my head and wonder what Mark Twain would think about his home town if he saw it today.
In spite of my melancholy over Hannibal's deterioration, my son and I had a good time while there. The craft show was lovely, the carnival was fun, and while the fence painting contest wasn't quite what we were expecting, we enjoyed the visit. We finished our day with dinner at the local diner - Mark Twain Dinette and Family Restaurant. The diner celebrated 70 years last year and is clearly a popular eatery. The food was great and atmosphere very friendly.
We didn't stay for the fireworks in Hannibal. My son was tired and wanted to go home, so we made the drive home in time to see the fireworks in our own neighborhood. For the first time, my husband and I were able to watch the show from five different locations around our house from the comfort of our front porch. The "official" show was two miles away and not really visible from our house, but the neighbors put on a really good show. Noisy, but wonderful all the same.
I'm so thankful for a lovely day to celebrate our nation's birth, our Constitutionally guaranteed freedoms, and spend time with one of my very favorite guys.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
Work Life at Macy's
The last couple of weeks at Macy's have been, well, strange. Its also been interesting. If I wrote a book about my experiences at Macy's, I wonder if it would be a best seller. Or Macy's may sue me. Time enough to figure that out later.
In any event, here we go.
As you all know, I love to play with the babies and children that come into the store. It's the high point of my day. One day I was doing just that - a little boy in his stroller was flirting with me and I was playing back. Mama and Grandma were nearby and approved. Somehow, another customer standing nearby thought she would get in on the fun and asked the baby if he could say Grandma. She asked this several times. Mama and I looked at the woman wondering what she was thinking. Then the woman looked up at me, surprised, and said to me, "Oh, you work here!" Needless to say, Mama and (the real) Grandma were irked at the woman. I simply stated, "No, ma'am, he's not mine."
The next day, while I was at Walgreens, a woman came up to me and commented on my smile. She said she thought my teeth were beautiful and wanted to know if they were my own.
Last week, at Macy's, a woman literally left her 3-month old baby in his carrier at my feet while she went to the dressing room to try on some bras. Macy's requires all its employees to take care of the customer, however, I don't think babysitting is part of the job description. After speaking to management and our security department about it, neither one gave me a good answer on the best way to handle that situation. Great. Oh, and the woman came back to claim her child after about ten minutes.
This week, I have had a customer go into a narcoleptic seizure at my register, and another customer almost pass out from Heaven only knows what.
As you can imagine, I started my shift yesterday with a quick prayer to God asking for just a "normal" day. No weirdness, please. He answered me.
Yesterday I met half the world. My customers included a woman from Turkey, another woman from Columbia, South America, a couple from Belgium on a business trip, an American woman now living in Switzerland, a business woman from Nigeria (her name would sprain my tongue if I tried to pronounce it), and an American couple celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary by traveling from Ohio to St. Louis for the first time. Okay, that last one was domestic - don't get so picky.
I have written about international customers before. It's truly amazing how global we are. I've met people from Ireland, Great Britain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, most of Asia, Bulgaria, South Africa, Ghana, South America, Saudi Arabia, and Italy.
Happy Memorial Day readers!
In any event, here we go.
As you all know, I love to play with the babies and children that come into the store. It's the high point of my day. One day I was doing just that - a little boy in his stroller was flirting with me and I was playing back. Mama and Grandma were nearby and approved. Somehow, another customer standing nearby thought she would get in on the fun and asked the baby if he could say Grandma. She asked this several times. Mama and I looked at the woman wondering what she was thinking. Then the woman looked up at me, surprised, and said to me, "Oh, you work here!" Needless to say, Mama and (the real) Grandma were irked at the woman. I simply stated, "No, ma'am, he's not mine."
The next day, while I was at Walgreens, a woman came up to me and commented on my smile. She said she thought my teeth were beautiful and wanted to know if they were my own.
Last week, at Macy's, a woman literally left her 3-month old baby in his carrier at my feet while she went to the dressing room to try on some bras. Macy's requires all its employees to take care of the customer, however, I don't think babysitting is part of the job description. After speaking to management and our security department about it, neither one gave me a good answer on the best way to handle that situation. Great. Oh, and the woman came back to claim her child after about ten minutes.
This week, I have had a customer go into a narcoleptic seizure at my register, and another customer almost pass out from Heaven only knows what.
As you can imagine, I started my shift yesterday with a quick prayer to God asking for just a "normal" day. No weirdness, please. He answered me.
Yesterday I met half the world. My customers included a woman from Turkey, another woman from Columbia, South America, a couple from Belgium on a business trip, an American woman now living in Switzerland, a business woman from Nigeria (her name would sprain my tongue if I tried to pronounce it), and an American couple celebrating their 20th wedding anniversary by traveling from Ohio to St. Louis for the first time. Okay, that last one was domestic - don't get so picky.
I have written about international customers before. It's truly amazing how global we are. I've met people from Ireland, Great Britain, Sweden, Switzerland, Turkey, most of Asia, Bulgaria, South Africa, Ghana, South America, Saudi Arabia, and Italy.
Happy Memorial Day readers!
Sunday, January 06, 2013
Cultural Crossroads
The world is an amazing place. Really. Most of us think that the world revolves around us or that the rest of the world lives, thinks, eats, and breathes just like we do. Some people may never meet a person from a foreign country or someone who has traveled outside the United States. Some, like me, get the privilege of having the world come to them.
Allow me to explain. For the last two years, I've been working part time as a sales associate for Macy's in the St. Louis Galleria. The Galleria is a busy place and wanderers will come through Macy's looking for something that they can't live without. It's no surprise that customers come in all shapes, sizes, colors and personalities. I won't get into the frustrations of dealing with the public here. I'll simply describe the customers who have passed through my line. Ready? Here we go . . .
I had a woman visiting St. Louis on business who lives in Switzerland. She had a delicious accent and was a delight to help. Another woman was from Italy and described her hometown (can't remember it now). She also had a yummy accent and comes to St. Louis frequently on business.
Countless Middle Eastern women, some accompanied with their overbearing husbands. Don't get me started on that subject. Some were easy to get along with, others seemed to think they were in a Pakistani street market and could argue the prices of everything they were buying. Wait, didn't I say I wasn't going to get into the frustrations here? Sorry. Not sure which countries these folks were from, but I would guess Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq/Iran, Saudi Arabia, and a few from India.
About equal in number to the Middle Eastern ladies would be the Asian ladies. Once again, I couldn't begin to guess where they were from, but China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan sound pretty good to me. Sometimes, I found it interesting that the older ladies were accompanied by the younger "Americanized" family members and they act as the translators. Language barrier is a real issue on my job.
An American woman came through and told me she was heading home to France. I asked her if I could go with her and she laughed. Turns out she is a missionary and living in France. I tried my hand at French and failed miserably. She was very gracious about it and I told her to have a safe trip "home."
If the customers weren't colorful enough, our employees easily add to the pallet. Two employees hail from South Africa, another from Spain, a manager from the UK, another employee from Bulgaria and another from Croatia. The gal from Croatia really sounds like she's from Brooklyn, but who am I to judge?
Maybe I should get a job at the United Nations.
Nah.
Allow me to explain. For the last two years, I've been working part time as a sales associate for Macy's in the St. Louis Galleria. The Galleria is a busy place and wanderers will come through Macy's looking for something that they can't live without. It's no surprise that customers come in all shapes, sizes, colors and personalities. I won't get into the frustrations of dealing with the public here. I'll simply describe the customers who have passed through my line. Ready? Here we go . . .
I had a woman visiting St. Louis on business who lives in Switzerland. She had a delicious accent and was a delight to help. Another woman was from Italy and described her hometown (can't remember it now). She also had a yummy accent and comes to St. Louis frequently on business.
Countless Middle Eastern women, some accompanied with their overbearing husbands. Don't get me started on that subject. Some were easy to get along with, others seemed to think they were in a Pakistani street market and could argue the prices of everything they were buying. Wait, didn't I say I wasn't going to get into the frustrations here? Sorry. Not sure which countries these folks were from, but I would guess Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iraq/Iran, Saudi Arabia, and a few from India.
About equal in number to the Middle Eastern ladies would be the Asian ladies. Once again, I couldn't begin to guess where they were from, but China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan sound pretty good to me. Sometimes, I found it interesting that the older ladies were accompanied by the younger "Americanized" family members and they act as the translators. Language barrier is a real issue on my job.
An American woman came through and told me she was heading home to France. I asked her if I could go with her and she laughed. Turns out she is a missionary and living in France. I tried my hand at French and failed miserably. She was very gracious about it and I told her to have a safe trip "home."
If the customers weren't colorful enough, our employees easily add to the pallet. Two employees hail from South Africa, another from Spain, a manager from the UK, another employee from Bulgaria and another from Croatia. The gal from Croatia really sounds like she's from Brooklyn, but who am I to judge?
Maybe I should get a job at the United Nations.
Nah.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Walking . . . What a Great Invention
Since my car is in the shop today, I found myself having to run errands on foot. Fortunately, most of my errands involved retailers near my house. The weather today wasn't too bad, so I put on a warm coat and started on my trek. Little did I know what a wonderful world awaited me.
You never really realize how much your car isolates you from the outside world. We get caught up in our own little worlds and never truly notice things, places, or people as we drive by. Once the car "shield" is removed and you are faced with the outside world, perspective changes.
My hike started with Overland Hardware. Had to pick up a few things there for the old coal bin/new pantry that I was determined to finish. I had time while walking to think of questions about electrical wiring (don't know a thing about it except it doesn't like water). Overland Hardware is located in the heart of downtown Overland and I took notice of a new restaurant at the old shuttered Hacienda Restaurant trying to get ready to start business. A new paint job, new sign, looked like they were doing something with the roof. Hmmm. Hope the food will be good. Passed the vacant Overland Medical Building. Nothing new there. Ritenour School District offices were on my right and I noticed a historic marker that told me the original Buck School was located there before the Civil War. Very cool. Noticed the new gaming store still hadn't reopened since a planned remodel. Looking through the window, I didn't see much evidence of remodeling anything nor any life in there at all. What a shame to see it die before it had a chance to take off. It was a great idea. Maybe location issues? Guess I'll never know.
I conducted my business at Overland Hardware and got answers to my electrical questions. Need a contractor to solve the problems - no money, but they gave me a recommendation for someone. Began to head back towards home and Walgreens along the way. Had to wait for one of Jack's prescriptions, but that was okay. Not really used to walking that much, so the rest was welcomed. Bought a small bag of peanuts and perused through the Christmas merchandise.
After Walgreens, I began the second to last leg of my journey to Dollar General which just recently opened. I can see their store from my house. Along the way, I passed a small tailoring shop. I've passed this shop at least a million times in the 20-something years I've lived here and never really paid any attention to it. Since I'm in the process of selling my mother's tailoring supplies, I thought I would stop in to see if this business person knew of anyone needing a sewing machine and/or serger. This idea would never have occurred to me if someone at Macy's hadn't suggested I talk to the alterations department about my sewing machine dilemma.
The tailor was working with a customer, but she talked to me while she worked. It turned out that she is in the market for a new serger and wanted more information. Of course, I didn't have any info to tell her and being without a car today prevented me from running to Mom's apartment to get the serger. I promised her the info by tomorrow. We traded business cards and I happily went on my way. Hope this lady buys the machine.
Dollar General would be my last stop before home. Along the way, crews were working on the sidewalk. Looked like something to do with the sewer system. A big mess. A small shop was vacant. The old Overland Ice Creamery had been purchased by someone else and they made it into a pizzeria. Wonder if they are any good. Don't know anyone who's been there. Cut across the parking lot and arrived at Dollar General. Wandered around the store a bit, gathering things that we needed. I love Dollar General - it's a fun store.
Paid for my purchases and headed home. Had a choice of cutting through a couple of yards to get to my house or just being polite and taking a little longer route. I chose the longer route. I saw fences and wasn't sure if I could get over them without looking ridiculous. As I passed the neighbor who lives behind me (I'm on their street), I saw the front of the new shed they were building. Nice little shed. I had to laugh since they were building it out of wood and it looked pretty similar to ours. If I think we inspired them, I'm afraid I'll give us way too much credit.
My adventure came to an end when I arrived at home. Hopefully, I'll sell a serger. If I like this lady, I might send some business her way. Now, I need my car back.
You never really realize how much your car isolates you from the outside world. We get caught up in our own little worlds and never truly notice things, places, or people as we drive by. Once the car "shield" is removed and you are faced with the outside world, perspective changes.
My hike started with Overland Hardware. Had to pick up a few things there for the old coal bin/new pantry that I was determined to finish. I had time while walking to think of questions about electrical wiring (don't know a thing about it except it doesn't like water). Overland Hardware is located in the heart of downtown Overland and I took notice of a new restaurant at the old shuttered Hacienda Restaurant trying to get ready to start business. A new paint job, new sign, looked like they were doing something with the roof. Hmmm. Hope the food will be good. Passed the vacant Overland Medical Building. Nothing new there. Ritenour School District offices were on my right and I noticed a historic marker that told me the original Buck School was located there before the Civil War. Very cool. Noticed the new gaming store still hadn't reopened since a planned remodel. Looking through the window, I didn't see much evidence of remodeling anything nor any life in there at all. What a shame to see it die before it had a chance to take off. It was a great idea. Maybe location issues? Guess I'll never know.
I conducted my business at Overland Hardware and got answers to my electrical questions. Need a contractor to solve the problems - no money, but they gave me a recommendation for someone. Began to head back towards home and Walgreens along the way. Had to wait for one of Jack's prescriptions, but that was okay. Not really used to walking that much, so the rest was welcomed. Bought a small bag of peanuts and perused through the Christmas merchandise.
After Walgreens, I began the second to last leg of my journey to Dollar General which just recently opened. I can see their store from my house. Along the way, I passed a small tailoring shop. I've passed this shop at least a million times in the 20-something years I've lived here and never really paid any attention to it. Since I'm in the process of selling my mother's tailoring supplies, I thought I would stop in to see if this business person knew of anyone needing a sewing machine and/or serger. This idea would never have occurred to me if someone at Macy's hadn't suggested I talk to the alterations department about my sewing machine dilemma.
The tailor was working with a customer, but she talked to me while she worked. It turned out that she is in the market for a new serger and wanted more information. Of course, I didn't have any info to tell her and being without a car today prevented me from running to Mom's apartment to get the serger. I promised her the info by tomorrow. We traded business cards and I happily went on my way. Hope this lady buys the machine.
Dollar General would be my last stop before home. Along the way, crews were working on the sidewalk. Looked like something to do with the sewer system. A big mess. A small shop was vacant. The old Overland Ice Creamery had been purchased by someone else and they made it into a pizzeria. Wonder if they are any good. Don't know anyone who's been there. Cut across the parking lot and arrived at Dollar General. Wandered around the store a bit, gathering things that we needed. I love Dollar General - it's a fun store.
Paid for my purchases and headed home. Had a choice of cutting through a couple of yards to get to my house or just being polite and taking a little longer route. I chose the longer route. I saw fences and wasn't sure if I could get over them without looking ridiculous. As I passed the neighbor who lives behind me (I'm on their street), I saw the front of the new shed they were building. Nice little shed. I had to laugh since they were building it out of wood and it looked pretty similar to ours. If I think we inspired them, I'm afraid I'll give us way too much credit.
My adventure came to an end when I arrived at home. Hopefully, I'll sell a serger. If I like this lady, I might send some business her way. Now, I need my car back.
Monday, July 16, 2012
The Vacant House
Since the start of this disastrous Great Recession, the news has been rife with record numbers of home foreclosures. As with many things, the reality of it seems very far away until one day, it parks itself squarely in front of you. No, we aren't losing our house. Yet. But a dear friend and her husband just lost their home of many years to foreclosure.
As I pass their former home, I'm struck by the memories and what had been the comfort that they were always there. Our friends knew our children since babyhood. Both families watched each others children grow up. Her kids moved on and started their own families. Mine are finishing up school and taking those first steps into adulthood.
In the twenty plus years we knew each other, there were births of children, litters of puppies, deaths of loved ones, illnesses overcome, swapped recipes and garden tips, prom nights, graduations, Christmas decorations and Halloween candy. A ready and helpful hand was only a phone call away.
The empty house echos its past. And like all empty houses, it awaits another family to claim it as their home and begin a new set of memories.
Our beloved friends are starting a new chapter in their lives. Even though they no longer live nearby, they will always live in our hearts. We miss them terribly and hope that their path becomes brighter and better with each passing day.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Talking to Teens About Current Events
The mess in the Middle East, the global economy, the Great Recession, unemployment, the presidential race, and a host of other big news are all over the TV, Internet and radio. While adults don't have trouble talking about the news, how do you get your teens to talk about it?
Right now, teenagers are really still children. They don't have to worry about current world events because, well, it's our job and world events are, like, totally boring. (eye roll here) To a degree, this is true. However, if parents are to teach analytical thinking, discussions of current events need to take place. These discussions ideally should happen at the dinner table, but can happen in the car or any other place where your child is a captive audience.
Some schools are encouraging teachers to engage students in these discussions. My own daughter came home and told me of the debate in class on the Republican presidential candidates. Talk to your child's teacher and see if conversations on current events are taking place in the classroom. If not, find out why.
It's really amazing how teens interpret the world around them. It makes them feel valued when you ask their opinions on issues in the news. Those opinions may or may not necessarily match yours. That's okay. Respect your child's thinking and have a great, insightful conversation. It beats nagging about homework.
Right now, teenagers are really still children. They don't have to worry about current world events because, well, it's our job and world events are, like, totally boring. (eye roll here) To a degree, this is true. However, if parents are to teach analytical thinking, discussions of current events need to take place. These discussions ideally should happen at the dinner table, but can happen in the car or any other place where your child is a captive audience.
Some schools are encouraging teachers to engage students in these discussions. My own daughter came home and told me of the debate in class on the Republican presidential candidates. Talk to your child's teacher and see if conversations on current events are taking place in the classroom. If not, find out why.
It's really amazing how teens interpret the world around them. It makes them feel valued when you ask their opinions on issues in the news. Those opinions may or may not necessarily match yours. That's okay. Respect your child's thinking and have a great, insightful conversation. It beats nagging about homework.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Why Am I Scared of 50?
Okay. This is it. I'm going to admit it. I'll turn 50 this coming May. Already some of my friends have reached this milestone and they are handling it very well. Okay, maybe I'm a big chicken. Maybe I just can't wrap my head around the fact that I will have existed on this Earth for a half a century. AUGH! I'm freaking out already! A Half Century! That's soooo OLD! That's, um, 50 years! Okay, give me a minute. Calm breaths, calm breaths.
Okay, I can do this. 50 isn't so bad, right? Afterall, I've seen some big culture changes in just the short amount of time I've existed. Microwave ovens, personal computers, cell phones, color television, remote controls, recliners, Facebook, texting, gas at almost $4.00/gallon, video games, VCRs and DVDs. Not sure if that compares to what the Greatest Generation (my parents) experienced, but it feels like it's pretty close.
Tonight while I was slicing apples for our dessert, I wondered about my grandmother. How did she feel about turning 50? I wasn't even born yet. I was just a kid when my mom turned 50. I don't remember how she handled it. Of course, my mom likes being old. Sometimes she's very strange like that. But this raises an interesting question - each generation has it's own definition of "old." Just a few generations ago, if a woman lived to see 50, she was lucky. Now 50 is considered the new 30.
Another friend of mine posted on Facebook, "If you haven't grown up by age 50, you don't have to!" Maybe that's the mindset I need to take. Okay, ladies, who wants to go cruisin' with me on my birthday?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Then and Now
September 11, 2001
That morning we woke up to a normal sunny fall day. The kids were getting ready for school - Jack Jr had just begun 5th grade and Sami was officially a 1st grader. I took them to school as usual and headed off to my job as a technical writer at Enterprise Rent-a-Car. I turned on the radio to listen to my favorite country music station, only to hear that a plane crashed into one of the towers in New York. I thought, "oh my word, what a horrible accident."
That was the last moment of our innocence.
When the second plane hit the other tower, everyone knew - this was no accident. The reality of it was incomprehensible. Who could do this and why?
I arrived at work to see everyone else in a state of shock. No one could concentrate. All of us, as well as the rest of the world, were scrambling to get more details from the Internet. The Internet was jammed from all the traffic.
More tragic news came in about the Pentagon and the plane crashing in Pennsylvania. It seemed the world was coming to an end and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was thankful the kids were safe at school and sheltered from the horrors that were unfolding that day. I knew I was going to have to explain it to them that night, but I had time to figure out what I was going to say, or so I thought.
September 11, 2011
My son is now 20 and in college studying computer engineering. My daughter is 16, a junior in high school and the captain of the color guard squad.
Sami saw the Pentagon Memorial when Ritenour's band visited Washington DC on Memorial Day weekend. She said it was a beautiful tribute to those who died that day. Jack still looks at the planes flying across the skies and continues to hope those planes don't become weapons again.
These kids were so young when the world came to a crashing end. Our world will never be the same again, but we can only hope that these young people will make the world a safer and better place for their children. I believe that would be the best way to honor those who perished ten years ago today.
God Bless us all.
That morning we woke up to a normal sunny fall day. The kids were getting ready for school - Jack Jr had just begun 5th grade and Sami was officially a 1st grader. I took them to school as usual and headed off to my job as a technical writer at Enterprise Rent-a-Car. I turned on the radio to listen to my favorite country music station, only to hear that a plane crashed into one of the towers in New York. I thought, "oh my word, what a horrible accident."
That was the last moment of our innocence.
When the second plane hit the other tower, everyone knew - this was no accident. The reality of it was incomprehensible. Who could do this and why?
I arrived at work to see everyone else in a state of shock. No one could concentrate. All of us, as well as the rest of the world, were scrambling to get more details from the Internet. The Internet was jammed from all the traffic.
More tragic news came in about the Pentagon and the plane crashing in Pennsylvania. It seemed the world was coming to an end and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was thankful the kids were safe at school and sheltered from the horrors that were unfolding that day. I knew I was going to have to explain it to them that night, but I had time to figure out what I was going to say, or so I thought.
September 11, 2011
My son is now 20 and in college studying computer engineering. My daughter is 16, a junior in high school and the captain of the color guard squad.
Sami saw the Pentagon Memorial when Ritenour's band visited Washington DC on Memorial Day weekend. She said it was a beautiful tribute to those who died that day. Jack still looks at the planes flying across the skies and continues to hope those planes don't become weapons again.
These kids were so young when the world came to a crashing end. Our world will never be the same again, but we can only hope that these young people will make the world a safer and better place for their children. I believe that would be the best way to honor those who perished ten years ago today.
God Bless us all.
Monday, May 30, 2011
A Memorable Memorial Day
Memorial Day is, indeed, a special day set aside to remember those who have sacrificed so much so that we can be free. We honor those with parades, special tributes and ceremonies. Years ago, my young son participated with his Cub Scout troop in placing flags on the solders' graves at Jefferson Barracks Cemetery. This had particular meaning to him because his grandfather (my father) was buried there. We don't know if Jack put a flag on his grandpa's grave or not, but I'm sure my dad would have counted it as so.
This year, my daughter, Sami, participated along with the Ritenour High School Color Guard and Marching Band, in the National Memorial Day Parade in Washington, DC. To say this was a once in a lifetime opportunity is an understatement. Each of the kids scraped and sweated to earn every dime to pay for the trip. Some of these kids are seniors and had just celebrated their graduation ceremony last week. This trip also represented Sami's first ever trip out of state. I wanted so badly to come with her, but I couldn't come up with the money to pay for both of us. It was all she could do to earn the money for herself.
Ritenour High School Marching Band was invited to participate in the National Memorial Day Parade by Missouri Representative Lacy Clay. That by itself is pretty impressive. What I found out tonight was that Ritenour beat out about 15 other Missouri schools for this incredible honor. Not only that, Ritenour represented ALL of Missouri - no other Missouri schools were in the parade. Ritenour students showed their state and school pride by putting on an awesome performance for the whole country to see.
I'm so proud of all of them, and especially, of Sami. Great job guys!
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Somebody Stop the World - I Want to Get Off Here!
I don't know about everyone else, but my head has been spinning for about three weeks and it doesn't look like it will be stopping very soon. Coming up with blog topics and timely ones has been a challenge. It's certainly not for lack of material. Here we go:
The world has witnessed a royal wedding with it's share of controversy (a lavish royal wedding in the middle of a severe economic recession), the queen's two granddaughters showing all of us that even royals can only have taste in their mouths, and lots of reminiscing over the Prince's late mother's wedding. My personal opinion on the whole thing is this - quit your complaining already. The wedding was rather played down compared to Charles and Diana's wedding some 30 years ago. Kate's dress was spot-on as far as I was concerned. Princess Beatrice and her sister, Princess Eugenie, showed the world expensive tastelessness. They were probably irked because Mum wasn't invited the the nuptials and decided to be the tacky relations. Get over it - we all have people like that in our families.
Then there's Osama bin Laden. Frankly, I'm glad this monster is dead. Am I morally conflicted over feeling happiness over his demise? Not really. He didn't lose any sleep over killing 3,000 innocent Americans who were no threat to him. He was clearly a threat to the rest of the world. Fail to see a problem here. However, if I have to endure another analysis of his life, his favorite videos, or his favorite sub-machine gun, I swear I'm going to scream. The monster is dead - let's move on.
Now, my personal life has been even more eventful. In a matter of days, we celebrated mine and my husband's 21st wedding anniversary, my son's 20th birthday, Mother's Day, Valley of the Flowers Parade in which Ritenour Color Guard marched, and my 49th birthday. In the middle of all this "happiness," however, we also lost my only living uncle. He was 87 when he died. Emotional rollercoaster? You could say that. The agenda isn't finished yet. My son just had his final exams, my daughter is preparing for her final exams and practicing for the National Memorial Day march in Washington DC in just two weeks.
With all of this going on, I really haven't had a chance to absorb anything. Even my daughter told me today that she still hasn't had a moment to mourn her great-uncle's death.
This is sad. The world really needs to slow down a bit so we can get off.
Sunday, January 09, 2011
My Ramblings on Free Speech, Politics, and Responsibility
Yesterday at a Tuscon supermarket, Arizona Democratic Representative Gabrielle Giffords was shot while speaking to the public about her efforts to serve them in Congress. Twenty people were injured and six were killed in an unspeakable shooting rampage by what appears to be a mentally unstable man, Jared Loughner. A 9-year-old child who was developing an interest in politics was among those killed. The irony of her death is that she was born on 9/11/01. The question a lot of people are asking, is why?
There is some debate on whether the hostile political rhetoric that has been making headlines could be partly to blame. Sarah Palin's website with gunsights on a map of areas she wanted to take aim at changing is especially scary and, no doubt, a public relations nightmare for the Palin camp.
Political vitriol is nothing new in this country. Our history books tell us many stories about brawls in the Senate and duels between politicians. Early 19th century American history was rife with angry discord over states' rights, slavery, a national bank, and foreign affairs. Daniel Webster, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, and Andrew Jackson were all political figures who drew fire and made their own fire during their time in office. However, we are modern day America now. Bloody Island is merely a historic footnote and our senators and representatives, supposedly, know better than to start fist fights while in office.
Free speech is a wonderful thing and should be fiercely protected. However, with all freedoms, comes responsibility. Sarah Palin could have made her point just as effectively by not giving her stamp of approval on the graphic image of gun sights on a map of districts she wanted to change. Push pins, American flags, butterflies, whatever. But no, she chose something very dramatic, disturbing and implied violence. I am not saying Palin is directly responsible for Loughner's actions. No, Loughner made his decisions based on whatever logic he was using at the time.
Americans are angry right now. We are all hurting. But our political leaders, locally and nationally, need to bear in mind that words have impact and we need to be responsible for them. I am begging our public servants to please do what you are supposed to be doing - representing the people and our country. Shootouts in Tuscon are not the answer. But blockading policies that may possibly help our country just because you can isn't an answer either.
Frankly, Palin and the Tea Party have always scared me. Her ability to whip people in to a froth is both frightening and borderline illegal. It is illegal in this country to incite riots. Palin can stand up and say whatever she wants - that's protected speech. But getting the public riled up is quite another. I really believe she is not directly responsible for this shooting, but I also hope that her political future is toast after this.
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