Ejecting Tables

Many years ago I got acquainted and spent some time with a lady. Her name was Beverly and she had a great personality and sense of humor. But she had a horrible problem with mixing metaphors and getting her cliches all bungled up. Now mind you, I didn't know her well enough to help her out with this, I never even told her she did it. It was quite a problem for her. She did it every time I was around her.

Well once I made fun of her to my sister Diane. Diane knew Beverly too so I pointed out this fault in great detail. Presently I can't think of any of Beverly's blundering cliches, but just to give a couple of ideas of things she might have said; "You gotta think outside the circle," "American as blueberry pie," "low man on the pecking order." Do you get the idea? Well, I thought it was a hoot and I hooted it up telling Diane all these things poor Beverly had said.

One does reap what one sows. (Bev might have said, "what goes around you reap.") God is my witness, and Diane is too, that the very next day after I made fun of Bev, I was stricken with this weakness. It has been at least 15 years since I knew Beverly, but I am here to tell you, that since that day, I've had trouble with cliches, euphemisms, and words. Now you might not know that because you READ me and don't hear me speaking. But when I speak, I'm much more likely to do it. I often use the wrong words, mix up cliches, etc, etc.

Last week I did this at work. I've recovered enough to tell about it now. But at the time, or shortly thereafter because at the time I didn't realize what I'd said, I thought I would expire in bright red fashion.

A bit of background: I have told how disorganized, crowded and sometimes chaotic my work place is. There is an inside joke among the ladies I work with about exploding tables, angry tables, and a few more things of that nature. By these expressions they really mean that the table is too full - a common problem with our tables - and that its contents just went onto the floor.

Last week two hoity-toity type ladies bumped a table just so and sent its bolts of fabric all over the floor. One of my colleagues might have labeled that as an exploding table. I try to avoid being such a follower and come up with my own word pictures. What I meant to draw with my word picture, be it poor as it was, was a cd player spitting out its cd. The word I meant was eject. I know, it's a stupid word picture. (But give me some credit I am not a follower.)

So the two up-tight ladies bumped the table and plumf, plumf, plumf, the contents began to descend. When the falling had ceased they made irritated sighs as if to say, "you stupid people who cram these bolts so tight...." I totally empathise with the sentiment, because I think the exact same thing. The way I deflect people's anger before they lash out it to make a big do. "Don't worry about that, I'll take care of it. It happens all the time. yada, yada, yada." In this particular instance, I saw their irritation and wanted to draw a word picture quick before they said something rude.

What did I say????

"There goes our ejaculating table."

They looked at me like I'd just talked dirty. I realized what I'd said about 7 minutes later as I was cleaning up the bolts of fabric.

Rachael Has A Job

Rachael started a paper route today. She has 85 houses that she delivers to 3 times a week. I admire this child. She is responsible and hard working.

Gordon and I both went with her for her first time today. He and I have very different ideas on how to navigate said paper route. My oh my, I thought it might turn into a fight, but Gordon's humor deflected my annoyance.

As he parked in the middle of the street to read the map that told which houses get the paper, I always announced when a car was coming -- much to his chagrin, I might add. Once he parked in the middle of the street on a curve. I thought I saw car lights, but because we were on a curve, I saw nothing in my mirror.

I asked him if there was a car and he replied. "I'm not worried about cars. If there is a car, I'll know about it a micro-second after you do."

Practical Joke

I was talking to my sister Diane last night and briefly spoke of a story that happened when her ex-husband Herbie and I worked together. In our office everyone was fun-loving, laughed lots, pulled stunts on each other, and covered each other's back. It was a Christian organization too although there were plenty of times when we weren't very Christian. (Please believe I am different now. I am a very nice and kind person.) Another piece of background is that this story takes place in small town, USA. And for ease of telling the story, I will call the antagonist Roger and change several of the details. I will use quotes to make the read easier, but I'm actually quoting the gist of the story as of course, I don't remember the particular details of who said what when. With that lengthy, un-smooth set up, here's my story.....

Secretary Cindy brought me a stack of mail and said, "I put a letter on top that you'll really appreciate. Roger in Oregon is upset again." She smiled and walked out. I quickly picked up the letter to read him chew me out for the way our office operated -- particularly how we were terrible at communicating. He made reference to having seen Herbie over the weekend and how Herbie had been unhelpful in solving the problem. According to Roger, we were a bunch of lousy workers, inept in whatever we set our hands to. I do not remember the source of his intense feelings, but I very well recall that we thought HE was the problem, not us. Typical workplace, eh?

I replied to Roger's letter with a professional, detailed letter. I made 2 copies. One was signed, "Sincerely, Valerie" and the other was signed, "Cordially and Communicatively up yours in Christ's love, Valerie." I'll let you decide which was the "real" letter and what was the "joke" letter. I was very tickled with myself, thinking Herbie would have a cow when he got to the bottom of my letter to my closing. In keeping with the plan, Cindy placed the "joke" letter on Herbie's desk and the real letter in an envelope for the day's mail.

Meanwhile, I took the latter part of the afternoon off for a haircut.

About halfway through my haircut, the beautician told me there was a phone call for me. It was Herbie on the other end of the line, talking very seriously. "That was a good letter you wrote to Roger, but Cindy tells me there's another copy that didn't say Sincerely."

Disappointed that my joke didn't come off as intended, but totally unaware of any grave danger, I answered, "Yeah, it's on your desk."

He countered, very seriously, "No, the one on my desk said 'Sincerely.'"

Frantic, I said, "Ask Cindy, she knows all about it."

"Valerie, Cindy's right here and we can't find the other letter," he solemnly said.

"Has today's mail gone out?"

"Yeah, about an hour ago," he answered.

"Oh Jesus, help me," I said. "I'm on my way."

I took the beautician's apron off and told her I'd be in touch, ran to my car, and sped to the office.
I ran into the office to find them going through all the stacks of papers on all of our desks. "Did you find it?" I blurted.

They had not.

Frantic, - sure my job is on the line, I yelled, "Phone Tommy at the post office. Tell him not to let our mail go out." I ran to my car and sped to the post office.

I ran into the post office and with no greeting whatsoever spewed, "Has today's mail gone out?"
Yes, it had left about 20 minutes prior.

"Where's it headed?" I snapped.

Tommy told me it was headed to Hot Springs but would be stopping at post offices along the way. This was hopeful.

I told him there was something on that truck that COULD NOT go and I had to find that truck. I begged for his help and he spoke compassionately as he told me the truck guy wouldn't let me have our mailbag even if I caught the truck.

Given my circumstances, I wasn't too proud to beg. I was determined to find the truck and do whatever grovelling was needed to get our mailbag back. "Tommy where would the truck be now? Can you find out where the truck is? Call someone and see if they'll wait for me." I was willing to go through every envelope in the state if they would let me.

Tommy used words like "impossible," telling me there was no way to catch the truck, because trucks are assigned different zip codes to pick up every day. That sounded very lame and stupid, but I persisted. "Isn't there an office somewhere that tells the truck where to go? Tommy, I'll go anywhere." I was near tears, very motivated, and probably quite near a stroke. Again, "Tommy please, isn't there someone you can call?, I pleaded.

Tommy started to snicker. Undeterred, I begged again. He started laughing and said, "Valerie, it's all a joke." I didn't get it. He told me again that "the letter" hadn't gone out. I still didn't get it. If this was a joke, I couldn't fathom Tommy at the post office being involved. If my friends at work were playing a joke on me, they wouldn't involve Tommy, would they?

With his assurance that my nasty letter hadn't been mailed, I left the post office in a daze. Afraid that Tommy and I were not on "the same page," I drove back to the office. It seemed way too unlikely for Tommy to be involved in a joke on me. When I walked in the office everyone was howling. Someone was on the phone with Tommy when I walked in. They were all very impressed with how well the joke on me had gone. Much better than even they had imagined when they concocted it.

I've heard of lots of practical jokes, but I've never heard of one more "successful" than that one was.

Jobs and Frodo

I'm flying kind of high today. I got a $.40 per hour raise. That was kind of cool. I also got very good to outstanding on my performance review. The highest in the store. Yippee!

That's all good and fine, but the really good news is that I quit cake decorating purgatory. I am so happy. I must admit I am disappointed with myself for not fulfilling my commitment (to myself and Gordon) to work at it to the end of the school year. But surely the world's a better place without me wielding a bag of buttercream frosting.

Senor Frodo, our manly little Chihuahua, is on the lookout for a nice little Senorita. It seems he is in the babino-making mood. When he attacks Lucy (or a pillow) we say naughty Mexican things. Never mind that our Mexican is hardly better than our Somalian. "Senor Frodo, go to your own le casa to do that." Senor, give it a siesta!"

When he squints in the sun, Hannah says he's saying, "Get me my sombrerro, will you?"

Our little Frodo keeps us amused.

Allow me to brag and then allow me to wallow

Hannah
Interest Fair
Dogs
2nd Place Winner

Well, well, well, I don't mean to brag, but (picture me snorting like Barney on Andy Griffith), but my Hannah won second place in the interest fair at school. It was such a cute display and she put her heart and soul in it. It was soooo Hannah.

Rachael's looked nice too. Deborah's display board kept falling over, but Harry the hamster was a big hit. Kids are so smart these days. There were displays that boggled my mind. Smart, creative, artistic, and elaborate.

Attendees voted on the best displays. First, Second, and Honorable Mention in three age divisions were the voting options. As Gordon and I made our way around the gym, we were impressed with the many displays. I voted for all my girls I must admit. Gordon, on the other hand, was more methodical. He stood thoughtfully in front of each display he was considering. I was like a dripping faucet behind him: "You can't vote for him, he tripped Deborah on purpose last year." You can't vote for her, she laughed when Rachael auditioned for the solo." "He is really a mean kid, don't vote for him." "She's a brat, don't vote for her." "Oh looky there, her Mom did a fine job on that one." Finally Gordon turned around and asked me to leave him alone. But "truth" prevailed anyway and Hannah won Second Place. She deserved it.

I do not mean to wallow in self pity, but I loath my new job. I'm no good at it and there is no other way to say it. Yes, my cakes look sick. I thought it would be easy, and I guess it is for most people. One girl said, "Any idiot can do this, Val." But it doesn't come easily for me. I am to cake decorating what I am to dancing and drawing. I just can't get it. I am "challenged." I came home today and cried. I committed to Gordon to keep it up till school's out, but I'm bordering on depression over the whole stupid thing.

I can decorate a cake as a homemaker and be happy with it. Even today I made decorated cupcakes for Rachael's teacher's birthday, and they were precious. But I don't think I've got the ability to ever be a professional. I'm comfortable with my ability as an amateur. I wish I'd never gone down this stupid professional decorator path. I feel like a retard. I must have heard 10 times today, "why are you doing it that way? I showed you how to do this already." Even my adoring husband looked at my red velvet cakes and asked what the red blob on the top was. It was a rose bud, but no one could possibly know.

Tomorrow is a day I've been mildly dreading for months. I was subpoenaed as a witness to a hit and run by a drunk driver. I have dreaded tomorrow, but now that it will pull me away from buttercream icing, I am happy to testify and wish I could do it more often.

Today the girls found a pathetic cat and brought it home. (We have a reputation as animal rescuers and have saved many a pet from a lonely death.) This poor cat couldn't stand up. Its nose was partially missing and its ears too. It was so pitiful. We wrapped him up and took him to the pound. The lady who admitted him like to have scared us silly. "You need to go home right away, bathe and put your clothes in the wash on the hot cycle." And that is precisely what we did. An hour later we phoned to find out what happened to the poor cat and they had euthanized it. They said it had a number of things wrong with it.

That little experience made me so thankful to be in a civilized and humane society that deals with those things in a compassionate way. I was so proud that my girls cared and that we played a roll in ending its awful life in a loving manner. I hate the idea of what may have happened had we not rescued it.

That reminds me of a magpie that the girls rescued once. A magpie is a scavenger bird. This bird, they promptly named her Maggie, had a broken wing and a broken leg. It too was pitiful. We made a make shift home for it in the backyard. The girls fed it and tried to nurse it back to health. On about day 2 of this operation, we had a church picnic. On the way to the picnic, it started to downpour and Hannah and Deborah began to wail, "WHAT ABOUT MAGGIE?" I turned the van around and drove home. The girls got some towels to wrap Maggie in and away we went with Maggie with us. Because magpies are not an esteemed bird, she had to stay in the van. But because I kept going to the van and checking on the bird, everyone knew about it. This led to a conversation. A church friend mentioned that they found a presumably orphaned rabbit and had thought about calling us. I was kind of puzzled that she would think about calling us about this orphaned rabbit. Kind of confused I asked her why she thought about calling me. A friend across the table answered the obvious that I had missed. She said, "Valerie, you have a magpie in your van." She was pointing out that we have a reputation of rescuing the oppressed. After she said it, it made good sense to me.

Maggie lasted a couple more days and then died. The girls buried her, built a cross out of sticks, and wrote an epitath on the rocks on top of her grave. Hannah wrote and recited a poem about Maggie at the burial. It was moving, even if it was all about a Magpie.

Sweet, sweet kids I have!

If you don't hear from me for a few days you can assume I'm rolled up in the fetal position, rocking gently back and forth. But I will return. I will rebound.

The Week in Review

Well, life continues and it consists of highs and lows. This weeks highlights:

We went shopping and everyone got some new clothes. The girls all had money and it was fascinating watching Rachael budget and be a conscientious shopper. I was sobered to find that Rachael had to buy blouses in the ladies department. I can't believe it, she is growing up so fast. Hannah, who presently loves the grungy look and places utmost importance on comfort, "couldn't find" anything she liked. In reality, she's comfortable with all her clothes and doesn't see the need for any more. Gordon, on the other hand, HATES the comfortable look that Hannah loves. So once she "couldn't find" anything to buy, he went and found some things for her. He threw her cherished fuzzy jacket in the garbage at the store after he bought her a new fuzzy. I was with Hannah on that one. I like her old fuzzy more than her new one and simply can't understand why he threw it away. Deborah found a number of things she wanted, but could only buy 2 things. She was sad. After clothes shopping, we went to Dollarama, an amazing dollar store, and the girls finished off their shopping. They love Dollarama and live from allowance day to allowance day.

I finished my cake decorator's training and now live from mild panic attack to the next mild panic attack. I fear customers coming to me and pointing to pictures in the cake book and saying, "I want that one in 1 hour." I can do some things, but "please don't ask me for the Christening cake, or the Barbie, or the Bob the Builder, or the Dora the Explorer, or Harry Potter,.... or anything else out of the book. I don't know how to do them. Please don't even look at me while I'm working." All my writing on cakes is crooked and silly looking. My roses look like cacti and my pansies look like butt holes. Oooooohhhhh, why did I ever do this???????

The girls have each finished their projects for their school's interest fair for Wednesday night. Rachael's project is about ancient kings and pharoahs. Rachael has had an enormous interest in Egyptian things for a couple years. I wonder if that interest will turn into something. Hannah's project is on dogs and it's adorable. Deborah's is on her hamster Harry. I'm curious to see how all their projects compare to the other kids'. I'm proud of all their work.

I've changed my theology of late. Up until very recently, I thought a pastor was "called" and you shouldn't ever fire one, but rather leave the church if you couldn't go along with his way of pastoring. Well, seeing where our church is today sure makes me wish we would have fired the pastor several years ago before he drove off 75% of the church. Now that he's gone, the truth has come out and oh what a fool I was supporting him. I'm so sorry. I feel so guilty. I'm plagued by memories of my own support of him. I use to imagine that I was discerning, but I've decided I'm not. I'm actually pretty easily snowed. I've been snowed severely two times in my life and this whole ordeal was one of them. Yuk, yuk, yuk. Forgive me for ranting.

Well I have my own assignment to work on, so I must boogie. I've enjoyed the day off with my family, but tomorrow I'm back to selling wicker furniture and candles. Good night.

My Bad Choice

While your day may have been normal and ordinary, mine was not. While you may have done "business as usual" I was up here growing balls. Here's what happened: I woke up this morning very tired and sporting the same headache I've had all week. So, regrettably, I called in sick and went back to bed. I had another hour of very lousy, guilt-ridden sleep. I got up to pray and relieve some guilt. I told God all that was bothering me and tried very hard to rationalize having lied. But no matter how I sliced it, I was going to feel lousy and miserable until I did the right thing.

I wrote a card to my boss apologizing for lying to her. I tried to get Gordon to deliver it, but he refused to do my dirty work. (I thought that's what men were supposed to do.) I hand delivered the card myself. Oh Lord, it was hard, but I did it. My boss was very very gracious to me. I had to muster up a lot of courage and humility to do that, but I was so glad I did. After that, I actually enjoyed my day off.

While your day may have unfolded normally, I grew up a lot today.

Dream Jobs

This morning as I sat drinking my coffee and staring out the window in partial comatose, I saw something that made me smile even in my morning condition. A garbage collecting truck - the driver clearly disoriented because garbage trucks shouldn't be passing in front of my house - sped by with 2 men riding shotgun on the truck's stoop at the back.

Why did this make me smile? When my nephew Randy was a little boy, he dreamed of being a garbage collector so he could ride on the back of a garbage truck. My Stephanie had lofty aspirations too. She wanted to be a car-hop at Sonic.

Once at Sonic, Diane jokingly made a derogatory remark about Stephanie wanting to work for Sonic. I countered her with, "this from the mother whose son wants to be the trash man."

Happy Spring & Lucy is 2

Salutations! Spring has arrived in the Great White North and I LOVE it. I walked around the yard this morning before work and was pleasantly surprised to find tulip and lily shoots in abundance. Spring! Is there anyone who doesn't love it? Furthermore, later today we got a little rain shower. Do you know how cool it is when the moisture comes in the form of rain rather than white fluffs? Simply invigorating.

My cake decorating adventure is pretty cool. I worked 36 hours this week and will have another busy training week next week. After that I will be a "professional cake decorator." Pretty cool. Today I brought home (and paid for) a lemon supreme cake that I made. When Hannah saw it, she hugged me. She loves to see me learn new things. She is so artsy and loves new creations in whatever form they take. She's so sweet that way.

My beloved Lucy is 2-years-old now. For your pleasure and mine, I'm sharing a few pictures of her sweet little life.

Jobs

Today I learned I am the employee of the year at my work. That translate to cash, a new t-shirt, a plaque, a new frame, and the most significant is a 30% discount until 2007 (even on sale and "as is" items). So I'm feeling pretty good about that.

I start my cake decorating job on Saturday. I went for training yesterday. It was kind of weird because they didn't ask for references or anything when they hired me. They know absolutely nothing about me. I could recently be released from prison for poisoning cakes in the past for all they know. Those gray hairs must really make me trustworthy looking.

I told Gordon that it sure is easy to get a job when you're middle aged, turning gray, and overweight. Is that the look of wisdom? Or maybe I look too tired to cause any trouble?

Lifelong Learner, I Am

"What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this little span of life by him who interests his heart in everything." Laurence Sterne

I have a number of interests. More than I can name, and certainly more than you have any interest in knowing.

Since Rachael's first birthday, it's been a family tradition that the birthday girl decorates her own cake with only a little guidance from Mom. Well it so happens that the girls have bumped up against my own cake decorating knowledge so I can no longer help them develop new skills. This has been bugging me for a couple years.

A few nights ago I went to Safeway and saw a "help wanted" sign in the bakery. I thought the following selfish, self-centered thought: "If I work here, they'll teach me to decorate cakes AND they'll pay me to learn." I came home and ran it past Gordon. He reluctantly agreed to me applying, so long as it was temporary.

This morning I went in to pick up an application. Suprisingly, the lady wanted to interview me right there. I told her I wanted to learn cake decorating. She hired me on the spot and I start next Wednesday. Gordon and I are both nervous about what kind of hours I'll get as it can't cut into the "family life." I still have my other job, and hopefully will not have to work more than 10 hours a week in the bakery. I'm so excited to learn cake decorating -- and to think I'll get paid to learn something I've been wanting to learn for a couple years.

Yippee.

a delightful morning

My morning has been nothing short of delightful. I have basked in the quiet solitude. I just refilled my coffee mug (for the 4th time) and have enjoyed reading my Bible, praying, and writing a few letters. I really wish I had more mornings just like this one. I cannot remember the last time I had the house to myself for this length of time. I lit a candle to remind me of God's peace and presence in my life (and of course I enjoy the scent too).

Since Tuesday I've been bemoaning my recent 10 cent raise. My performance review was "very good" yet I only got a 10 cent raise. I took comfort in Psalm 37 this morning. In His grace, God gave me direction and peace this morning. I'm so thankful to have a God that delights in every detail of my life. (Psalm 37:23)

My trusty sidekick Lucy, a Bassett Hound cross, is sleeping on the living room floor in the sunshine. I love her. I simply can't understand people who don't love dogs. Surely they just haven't been around them enough. Who couldn't love something so faithful and loving?

I've marked Mindi's blog under "favorites". I find her journey exciting and interesting. She is enjoying living vicariously through her children, ie enjoying the kids' activities and enjoying learning with them. She is also exploring and nurturing her underdeveloped artist. Our journeys are similar in that respect. I'm glad she got on this track much earlier in life than I did.

Blogging may end up pretty fun after all.

good morning

Good Morning. It's 530 in the morning. I'm not used to staring at a computer screen this early - a blank sheet of paper maybe, but not a bright screen. Blogging is still in the experimental phase for me. Can it replace my journal? I haven't figured that out yet. The new "green" me is happy to save the trees (save the paper), but I must admit I'm having a hard time getting past the desire for a hard copy. Of course also, I'm limited with what I can write. I can be brutally honest on paper, but what if someone reads my blog. Yeah, I know that a blog isn't intended to be the most private form of journaling, but if it's to replace my journal, I need to feel free to be honest. I think that may be an ongoing struggle for me.

Today is usually a work day for me, but today I won't be working as I took the day off to attend Deborah's Easter party at school. I'm excited to have the morning alone and to be off work. I was discouraged at work on Tuesday. I got my performance review and ranked "very good" in each category. I wondered why I didn't get "outstanding", but that isn't the part that discouraged me. I got a 10 cent raise. Yes, that was discouraging. I thought that for 10 cents they shouldn't have even told me about it. Telling me that I was getting a meager 10 cent raise was nothing short of insulting. So presently, I have a bad attitude regarding my work.

The new brown leather albatross (new chair) is sitting beside me screaming repeatedly "you screwed up". I told Gordon about my regret about my purchase yesterday. He encouraged me to give it a week before I do anything like give it away or try to sale it. What a lunatic I can be. When we brought it inside yesterday, it looked incredibly out of place and I reworked the furniture repeatedly trying to find an acceptable place for it. I have settled on the spot beside my desk. I doesn't look great, nor does it look terrible. It is growing on me though. Yesterday I sat in it and stared out the window. I was discouraged about my own folly and was just staring into space. Then I noticed some birds in the elm in the front yard foraging for hidden treasures in the bark. It brought a smile to my face. There is still a backdrop of white snow outside, but this was clearly a "harbinger of spring" moment. That moment changed my attitude. I realized that just because I screwed up doesn't mean I have to be perpetually discouraged with myself. I am still surrounded with good.

Deborah is so excited about me going to her party. For the first several months of school I didn't go on her field trips or attend her school parties because I work on Tuesdays and Thursdays which are Deborah's school days. Several weeks ago she expressed that she wanted me along for these things. Since then I've taken off work for them. I'm so glad that I heard her desire. She was giddy with excitement when we went to Bee Maid Honey factory. I'm glad I had that time with her. Yesterday she wanted to lay out my clothes for today's party. She chose a black skirt and light blue sweater. I'm not excited about wearing a skirt, but I will wear it because it's her wish. When she brought them into the living room to show me what she'd chosen, she excitedly said, "I haven't picked out your panties yet." Yep, she's covering all the bases. What a sweetie.

I'm so proud of Hannah and Rachael for the way they defend Stephen (next door) at school He is literally a near genius child, therefore kind of different. Furthermore he is incredibly tiny. Both the girls look after him. And they admire his creativity, imagination, and intelligence. I have to respect that. They are such good kids. I'm thankful beyond words.

Today my cousin Cindy gets her latest test results back. She has been experiencing a bloated feeling and some stomach pain. I think they may be preparing for the worst news. She has fought and fought this battle. I am continually amazed at her fighting spirit. I feel confident that I wouldn't be as much of a fighter. May God give them His peace and comfort today.