Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Grey Wednesday

Well, I made it in to work today.  You might think this is a non-statement, like saying, “Hey, I breathed ALL NIGHT last night!”   But since I did not make it in to work the preceding two days, you see how it actually makes good sense.  Right?

Made it in to work, on time and all, and have sat here at the desk slowly recovering from the energy required to walk across the parking lot and unlock the door.  I was trembling and gasping, such is the level of weakness to which I have fallen.  It’s funny, I know I’ve had the flu more recently, but my memory keeps bringing up the mental picture of myself, standing shakily at the card catalogue (wow!  Does that date me, or what?)  in the Prairie library, one hand hanging on to the waistband of my skirt, which was showing an alarming tendency to drop off, and the other trying feebly to make notes on an overdue English assignment.  That was after my first bout with sinusitis, but I feel much the same.  Much, much better, and all, but ridiculously feeble and given to sudden stabs of pain or waves of exhaustion.

The rain this morning as I pulled out of the driveway, was that sudden skies-open drenching deluge,  an altogether-boys kind of flattening downpour that made me feel like the roof of my car might suddenly dent in.  The usual traffic problems ensued.  I was in the far left hand lane, creeping along with the rest of the traffic, all of us side-by-side for miles, and I found myself quite freakin’ annoyed with the people who kept wanting to squeeze into the left-hand lane.  People automatically assume that the passing lane is going to go faster, but there we all were!  Creeping along next to one another!  No-one getting anywhere any faster than anyone else!   Clearly and obviously visible to anyone who looked!  Arg!

So.  Now to start digging my way out from under the accumulated paperwork of the past few days.  The office seems fairly tidy, but I haven’t looked in the file room, yet….

Monday, March 11, 2013

Adoption Day Daphne

Went out to dinner with Joe this past weekend, to celebrate Adoption Day. I am very proud of my tall handsome son, and cautiously pleased at his steps up the ladder toward being a responsible and trustworthy young man! He is working hard, always making it to work on time, and staying for all his shifts, which, thinking back on school and his constant skipping of classes, I was sort of afraid (oh, admit it, I was absolutely certain!) that he would fail to do. However, he is proving himself to be both responsible and trustworthy, and I am very pleased!
I was surprised,(and delighted) by the way, to notice as we walked to and from our car, (we had dinner at Gino's, which is in Sellwood) that we passed six or seven houses with blooming bushes of daphne in their yards! Daphne is not something I see very oftne -- not like daffodils, or roses or rhododendrons, which are commnplace throughout the Northwest. It is much rarer, and to see house after house with a large bush in the front yard, or two of them blooming on either side of the fornt steps, was really both thrilling and amazing!

Made me wonder if one of the older houses had a bush, and several of the nighbors were noticing the gorgeous smell, and it just sort of spread? Maybe they had a clipping party, and everyone got cuttings of that original bush! Or perhaps they had all been planted at the same time by the builders -- perhaps it was fashionable then, or he had had a bush in his front yard as a boy, like my dad, and always loved it! Or MAYBE......

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Shoe-trees and Apologies

Last night on my way home from work (left the office right on time, so that I could get some laundry done -- I was going to REMEMBER it this time!) I was lured in by the siren song of the Salvation Army. (Well, I drive right BY it, and it's very inexpensive, and I haven't stopped for weeks, no, months! And they had their Half Off Everything in Store banner up! So come on!)
So anyway, I took one of the weird carts, since all the normal carts were in use, and started my usual route through the store. There wasn't a great deal of stuff, so if I stop by tonight it will probably be crammed with new stuff, the Post-Half-Off giddiness of new second-hand things! WooHoo! 
Anyway, I found a few shirts and a sweater and a candle, and looked through the books and experimented with a deep-fryer, and then went and got in line. The check-out man was about ten (or possibly 20, hard to tell) very, very skinny, with a strange bony face and very bad skin and a huge shirt which had come untucked in several places, and an odd voice. But he was very chatty and friendly and and talked nonstop the whole while I was in line. I paid for my purchases and bagged them myself, and headed out to my car.
As I was starting the engine, I saw him running across the parking lot toward me, yelling, "Ma'am! Ma'am!" I slowly stopped the engine and rolled down the window, and he poured out this very confusing story about how he had somehow inadvertently made some huge mistake and I needed to come back in the store and let him run my bank card again, he was so, so sorry. I said, "Wait a minute -- what?" and he started all over again, interspersed with constant apology, so I said, "Okay -- never mind. Let's just go and take care of it."
Back into the store I went with little Mr. Disjointed Apology. We stepped back in front of the guy who had been behind me in line and was patiently waiting to buy a nice pair of wooden shoe trees -- I had looked at those. I handed the clerk my card -- he was babbling about how he hadn't gotten my signature and then when he looked at the receipt he saw that I had only paid $10, when I actually owed $12, and so on and on, he was so, so sorry. So we went through the process of cancelling out the first transaction, and then getting my signature on the second transaction, and then he finally handed me the receipt. I looked at it. 
"Well, " I said. "I see the shirts and the sweater, but I only bought one Bric-a-Brac, and here are two Bric-a-Bracs. So what do you think that's about?"

He took the receipt and stared at it, and as I watched, his whole neck and face flushed deep dark red.
"Oh," he muttered. "I forgot to take that guy's stuff off it," gesturing to the patient man behind me. I looked at the man, while Apology Man tied himself in knots apologizing AGAIN! -- STILL! and said, "Well, sir, your shoe-trees are free!" He thanked me, and tried to give me two dollars, but by that time I just wanted OUT OF THERE, so I smiled, said "No problem!" and fled.
I think I will stop on my way home, though, (she mused). You know, just to see the new goods. Don't think I'll buy anything, probably. And if I do, I won't go through the line with Mr. Apology!