Is it better to start super slow, then have things pick up and get busy in the afternoon, or have a good busy morning only to have everything come to a standstill by noon?
How can one maintain a cheery attitude when people come to your CARD store, to mail cards they bought somewhere else? Do they not realize there are still impersonal drop boxes in the city?
Is it really worth updating a facebook status more than once in a day just because you can?
If our shoppe gains an online presence, will that negate my ability to have a blog where I can complain with candor? Has that, maybe happened already, and I should learn to deal with it?
Why can't blogger and Apple get together so I can easily post photos from my iPad so this could be more interesting?
When it rains, people don't want to go out, when it's sunny people want to go out, but not back in, so when is it optimal for shoppers to show up?
Is it better to focus on business type projects on slow days, only to feel even more bored by the gloomy topic, or to spend time catching up with pretty/fun/interesting things online to get your mind off it?
End note, business is not bad, just slow at times, and my mind wanders, so I thought I would share. Is is not a pity post, but anyone who wants to come shopping, rain or shine, would be welcome ;)
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Monday, February 18, 2013
It's In the Details
Everything has been about the details lately. Making sure every last piece is placed perfectly, every dirty smudge is wiped away (as far as is humanly possible), every product is made available. We've been working on renovations for almost two months now, and, at long last, Holliday Card Shoppe is looking like it's ours. Gone are the old clunky glass cube displays, most of the old merchandise is boxed up, or in a sale section, and new items are filling the refreshed shelves. it has been an exhausting process, but we're actually starting to feel like this place is really ours.
I think taking over a store that has been in action for more than two decades is a tricky business. On one side, you have customers that come faithfully. The post office option draws people in on a daily basis. There are those old timers who come back time and time again because they know what to expect. But knowing what to expect isn't always a good thing. We still have stacks of merchandise that have been sitting there since we took over in April of last year. And we don't have a clue how long it was there before that. This means that those tried and true customers have been seeing these products for years. If they didn't buy them then, why would they buy them now. Not to mention, if they bought them before, why would they need to buy them again?
I spent the past year just trying to figure out what I was doing. I've worked retail. I've been an employee. I've followed a list of pre-described routines. But owning a store, that's a concept I still have trouble wrapping my head around. When I know what to do, I can do it, but innovation, that's a whole different ball game. I like plans and routines, so it was easy to get trapped in keeping up with the old store standards and just maintaining. Thankfully, I'm married to an innovator. Now, the game has changed.
There is still plenty to be done, but, at long last, we're taking the stores out of the 80's. We're moving it beyond a run down mom and pop card shop, and we're making it into a place worth spending time in. I have no pictures to post, but let me tell you all, it's worth popping your head in for a look :)
I think taking over a store that has been in action for more than two decades is a tricky business. On one side, you have customers that come faithfully. The post office option draws people in on a daily basis. There are those old timers who come back time and time again because they know what to expect. But knowing what to expect isn't always a good thing. We still have stacks of merchandise that have been sitting there since we took over in April of last year. And we don't have a clue how long it was there before that. This means that those tried and true customers have been seeing these products for years. If they didn't buy them then, why would they buy them now. Not to mention, if they bought them before, why would they need to buy them again?
I spent the past year just trying to figure out what I was doing. I've worked retail. I've been an employee. I've followed a list of pre-described routines. But owning a store, that's a concept I still have trouble wrapping my head around. When I know what to do, I can do it, but innovation, that's a whole different ball game. I like plans and routines, so it was easy to get trapped in keeping up with the old store standards and just maintaining. Thankfully, I'm married to an innovator. Now, the game has changed.
There is still plenty to be done, but, at long last, we're taking the stores out of the 80's. We're moving it beyond a run down mom and pop card shop, and we're making it into a place worth spending time in. I have no pictures to post, but let me tell you all, it's worth popping your head in for a look :)
Sunday, January 20, 2013
2012 Photo Review
After being devastated when Mark told me that my photos had all been lost, I was thrilled when he figured out how to get the computer to work again! Yeah for being married to someone who knows how to make things function :) I thought I'd post a few photos to go over the past 12 months, and finish off some that I never got around to posting before.
January saw me working frantically on the last few pages of my novel (my goal is to get that thing published this year, one way or another) and continuing to enjoy the good life over in Czech.
February saw us enjoying every last minute of our time in Marianske Lazne, while planning for the future. Who knew that a year later we would know the shop we were contemplating so intimately. (We just finished inventory yesterday, which means we now know everything that is and is not in the store.)
Need I remind you, it was really cold there?
March brought us back to the US, and into silence. We spent a dizzying month making business deals left and right, and driving back and forth to Idaho. We relocated to McMinnville, and there really aren't any pictures from that month to speak of.
In April, May, and June we continued to settle into the new routine. Daily drives to Portland became the norm. In what little free time we had we took in some of the local sites, and planted a little garden.
July was a super busy month. We finally had a little vacation which we kicked off with my nephew Ryder's wedding, followed by a week long family reunion to celebrate my parent's 50th anniversary.
My previous posts about the family reunion were cut short, so I'll share just a few more pictures from the trip to Sunriver.
My second cousin runs a ranch for abused horses called Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch, which is located out in Bend. We headed out there for a day, which had all my horse crazy nieces and nephews ultra excited.
There was also an afternoon of rafting that lent itself to some lovely scenic shots, and left my front half a brilliant lobster red.
What can I say about August and September but that they were lovely warm months. There were a lot of beach trips, but with the computer not working, and my obsession with Instagram growing, most of my photos were not taken with my camera. October also lent itself well to beach trips, and I think that is when the incident of the seagulls took place. My parents had come for a visit, and we had to entertain them by making the birds fly!
In November I aged once again. I was joined in the celebration by my dear friend Rebekah, who flew up for the weekend to celebrate both of our birthdays, as well as the birthday party for Jessie's girls who are Novemberians as well. My sister Janet also planned a little surprise, which meant she, my sister Julie and her baby Myrtle, and my mother all landed on my doorstep Saturday morning. It was good fun to spend the day shopping, celebrating, and eating more than my usual share. Good times were had by all. No photos, I'm afraid. I think I'm getting too old for posing...perhaps...
December was a crazy time at work. Anyone who has ever done retail, or worked in a post office, can understand. We were excited by it, of course, because it meant we had a little extra to start our insanity January.
And that pretty much sums up my past year. Except for the fact that I spent 80 percent of my time trying to wrap my simple little brain around the concept of being a business owner, I don't have a whole lot of excuses for being so blog silent. I won't promise a hundred posts this year, but hopefully as things progress I'll be better able to keep it all in stride. I'll also have to add a few shots of our renovation progress. Wish us luck in this big new undertaking as we attempt to improve on all levels in the new year.
January saw me working frantically on the last few pages of my novel (my goal is to get that thing published this year, one way or another) and continuing to enjoy the good life over in Czech.
February saw us enjoying every last minute of our time in Marianske Lazne, while planning for the future. Who knew that a year later we would know the shop we were contemplating so intimately. (We just finished inventory yesterday, which means we now know everything that is and is not in the store.)
Need I remind you, it was really cold there?
March brought us back to the US, and into silence. We spent a dizzying month making business deals left and right, and driving back and forth to Idaho. We relocated to McMinnville, and there really aren't any pictures from that month to speak of.
In April, May, and June we continued to settle into the new routine. Daily drives to Portland became the norm. In what little free time we had we took in some of the local sites, and planted a little garden.
July was a super busy month. We finally had a little vacation which we kicked off with my nephew Ryder's wedding, followed by a week long family reunion to celebrate my parent's 50th anniversary.
My previous posts about the family reunion were cut short, so I'll share just a few more pictures from the trip to Sunriver.
My second cousin runs a ranch for abused horses called Crystal Peaks Youth Ranch, which is located out in Bend. We headed out there for a day, which had all my horse crazy nieces and nephews ultra excited.
There was also an afternoon of rafting that lent itself to some lovely scenic shots, and left my front half a brilliant lobster red.
What can I say about August and September but that they were lovely warm months. There were a lot of beach trips, but with the computer not working, and my obsession with Instagram growing, most of my photos were not taken with my camera. October also lent itself well to beach trips, and I think that is when the incident of the seagulls took place. My parents had come for a visit, and we had to entertain them by making the birds fly!
In November I aged once again. I was joined in the celebration by my dear friend Rebekah, who flew up for the weekend to celebrate both of our birthdays, as well as the birthday party for Jessie's girls who are Novemberians as well. My sister Janet also planned a little surprise, which meant she, my sister Julie and her baby Myrtle, and my mother all landed on my doorstep Saturday morning. It was good fun to spend the day shopping, celebrating, and eating more than my usual share. Good times were had by all. No photos, I'm afraid. I think I'm getting too old for posing...perhaps...
December was a crazy time at work. Anyone who has ever done retail, or worked in a post office, can understand. We were excited by it, of course, because it meant we had a little extra to start our insanity January.
And that pretty much sums up my past year. Except for the fact that I spent 80 percent of my time trying to wrap my simple little brain around the concept of being a business owner, I don't have a whole lot of excuses for being so blog silent. I won't promise a hundred posts this year, but hopefully as things progress I'll be better able to keep it all in stride. I'll also have to add a few shots of our renovation progress. Wish us luck in this big new undertaking as we attempt to improve on all levels in the new year.
A New Year
So last year I wrote up a bunch of goals for 2012. I thought I might go back and reread them as it is January again, and then I realized just how depressing that would be. They were pretty good goals, as I recall. And I didn't do any of them. Naturally, there are plenty of reasons for that. We bought a store, which sorta changed everything. All the same, I can't help but be a little dissatisfied with my performance over all.
I'm not sure I really want to set a whole lot of visible goals for myself this year. We still own a store. It takes up at least 75% of my time. There is no way to work around that. However, I do want to do better with certain things this year. I want to remember that living is still the most important part of life. It is crucial to find a way to live well, even in the midst of working for success.
Being a business person is still not the core of my being. It won't ever be. But it is the life I have now, so it's time to make the most of it. We are currently in the midst of a massive makeover project on the shop. My sweet husband has been working tirelessly to find ways to dress the place up, and searching for new inventory to make it a place we can really enjoy spending time in, rather than being filled with left overs from the previous owners, and a style that clearly reflects that it was founded in the 80s. This breath of fresh air has the potential to invigorate us and our customers in this new year.
Besides seeking to be more driven in business, it is essential that I find more ways to connect with people. Sure, I spend all day chatting with customers, but it just isn't the same as spending quality time with people. Hopefully we will find more ways to engage with friends in the area, as well as maybe getting to know some new people. A girl's got to hope.
I did join up with the Portland Bloggers list, and I would really like to attend some of their meetings this year. It would be good to network with other people in Portland, as well as having a chance to keep my writing skills in focus.
So here's to hoping that this year will be more successful, social, and balanced than the last one. Happy 2013, all :)
I'm not sure I really want to set a whole lot of visible goals for myself this year. We still own a store. It takes up at least 75% of my time. There is no way to work around that. However, I do want to do better with certain things this year. I want to remember that living is still the most important part of life. It is crucial to find a way to live well, even in the midst of working for success.
Being a business person is still not the core of my being. It won't ever be. But it is the life I have now, so it's time to make the most of it. We are currently in the midst of a massive makeover project on the shop. My sweet husband has been working tirelessly to find ways to dress the place up, and searching for new inventory to make it a place we can really enjoy spending time in, rather than being filled with left overs from the previous owners, and a style that clearly reflects that it was founded in the 80s. This breath of fresh air has the potential to invigorate us and our customers in this new year.
Besides seeking to be more driven in business, it is essential that I find more ways to connect with people. Sure, I spend all day chatting with customers, but it just isn't the same as spending quality time with people. Hopefully we will find more ways to engage with friends in the area, as well as maybe getting to know some new people. A girl's got to hope.
I did join up with the Portland Bloggers list, and I would really like to attend some of their meetings this year. It would be good to network with other people in Portland, as well as having a chance to keep my writing skills in focus.
So here's to hoping that this year will be more successful, social, and balanced than the last one. Happy 2013, all :)
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Pretty Sure I'll End Up Dehydrated
I have a thing for drinking. It's one of life's essentials. Not many people could just give up drinking and make a go of it for very long.
The problem is, I don't just enjoy drinking, I'm also rather picky about it. When I moved in the 8th grade I gave up water all together. The sulfury nastiness that passed for water in our new home just couldn't compare to the sweet well water that I grew up on. So for all of high school I didn't drink water. Period.
Unfortunately, that only meant that my thirst was generally quenched by something sugary. And, thus, I developed a craving for sweet liquids to carry me through the days. In college, I fed my need with Gatorade Frost, and cheap Shasta Kiwi Strawberry soda. In Hong Kong, I became increasingly fixated on the plethora of fabulous Fanta flavors that the wider world affords. In recent years, I've settled more on things that also include caffeine. Dr. Pepper, Cola, or sweet coffee drinks cry out to me from every direction.
In the Czech Republic, beer is cheaper than water. They consider it bread. Something essential as both food and drink. When you're sick, the instant prescription is to consume copious amounts of hot tea. I didn't get into either of those, and actually managed to drink a lot of water while I was teaching. We had a big bottle, regularly changed, out in the hall, and that worked for me. I even managed to convince myself, on occasion, to leave my sugary sweetness addiction for meals out, rather than stocking up on it daily. (Although, I must confess to a Pavlovian urge to salivate every time I hear a can of soda cracked open. Makes me weak in the knees I tell you.)
The hear and now has further complicated my need to consume liquids. I'm in my store all day, with no chance to go anywhere, so I have to haul in whatever I'm going to drink. We have no fridge to keep things cold. I bought a big gallon of water once, but it's awkward to pour cups all day. Instead, I've fallen into the trap of getting a soda on my way to work. Here's the real bad part, the cheapest drink I can buy is a 44 oz refill for 79 cents at Circle K. It's a real budgetary blessing, but do I really need to consume 44 oz of soda on a daily basis? Um, not if I'd like to continue having a semi decent waist line. But it's so cheap, and so tasty, and diet soda is nasty, no two ways about it. I sometimes blend a sugar/diet caffeine loaded cup, but it's just not as good, so on tired days, I let myself indulge.
The heart of this post, however, is in today. Today, I decided to be good. A customer gave me a tea bag months ago, and I decided to put it to use. It was my only beverage for the day. I boiled the water, I poured the cup and warmed my hands. I enjoyed the beauty of my Sally Nightmare Before Christmas mug, and even persuaded myself that the tea smelled good. But then I had to drink it. Alas, even the perfect cup could not make it tasty, and the fact that it was caffeine free only added to the failure.
All that to say, it's 6. Time to close up shop and head home for the day. And I'm thirsty!
The problem is, I don't just enjoy drinking, I'm also rather picky about it. When I moved in the 8th grade I gave up water all together. The sulfury nastiness that passed for water in our new home just couldn't compare to the sweet well water that I grew up on. So for all of high school I didn't drink water. Period.
Unfortunately, that only meant that my thirst was generally quenched by something sugary. And, thus, I developed a craving for sweet liquids to carry me through the days. In college, I fed my need with Gatorade Frost, and cheap Shasta Kiwi Strawberry soda. In Hong Kong, I became increasingly fixated on the plethora of fabulous Fanta flavors that the wider world affords. In recent years, I've settled more on things that also include caffeine. Dr. Pepper, Cola, or sweet coffee drinks cry out to me from every direction.
In the Czech Republic, beer is cheaper than water. They consider it bread. Something essential as both food and drink. When you're sick, the instant prescription is to consume copious amounts of hot tea. I didn't get into either of those, and actually managed to drink a lot of water while I was teaching. We had a big bottle, regularly changed, out in the hall, and that worked for me. I even managed to convince myself, on occasion, to leave my sugary sweetness addiction for meals out, rather than stocking up on it daily. (Although, I must confess to a Pavlovian urge to salivate every time I hear a can of soda cracked open. Makes me weak in the knees I tell you.)
The hear and now has further complicated my need to consume liquids. I'm in my store all day, with no chance to go anywhere, so I have to haul in whatever I'm going to drink. We have no fridge to keep things cold. I bought a big gallon of water once, but it's awkward to pour cups all day. Instead, I've fallen into the trap of getting a soda on my way to work. Here's the real bad part, the cheapest drink I can buy is a 44 oz refill for 79 cents at Circle K. It's a real budgetary blessing, but do I really need to consume 44 oz of soda on a daily basis? Um, not if I'd like to continue having a semi decent waist line. But it's so cheap, and so tasty, and diet soda is nasty, no two ways about it. I sometimes blend a sugar/diet caffeine loaded cup, but it's just not as good, so on tired days, I let myself indulge.
The heart of this post, however, is in today. Today, I decided to be good. A customer gave me a tea bag months ago, and I decided to put it to use. It was my only beverage for the day. I boiled the water, I poured the cup and warmed my hands. I enjoyed the beauty of my Sally Nightmare Before Christmas mug, and even persuaded myself that the tea smelled good. But then I had to drink it. Alas, even the perfect cup could not make it tasty, and the fact that it was caffeine free only added to the failure.
All that to say, it's 6. Time to close up shop and head home for the day. And I'm thirsty!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Last Day of August
How did it come upon us so quickly. Seems like summer began a moment ago, and now it's moving along. I'm just hoping the lovely weather will stick around a wee bit longer.
I still have these great plans to write posts at home where I can add photos, but after being out of the house for 11 or so hours everyday, I tend to be pretty vegetative in the evenings, and weekends have this way of disappearing just about the time I get settled in enough to want to be productive. So there were several photo worthy summer events, as well as a few remaining Czech pictures that I want to post, but they'll have to remain delayed gratification issues for now.
I guess all I really have to say is that life remains in the works. There are so many plans and ideas swimming around that it's hard to catch my breath long enough to get any of them done. Suffice it to say, we seem to have survived the slow summer, and are hoping to see things pick up as vacationers return, and people suffering from the doldrums of the return to Oregon's prolonged rainy season seek us out for some retail therapy ;)
I still have these great plans to write posts at home where I can add photos, but after being out of the house for 11 or so hours everyday, I tend to be pretty vegetative in the evenings, and weekends have this way of disappearing just about the time I get settled in enough to want to be productive. So there were several photo worthy summer events, as well as a few remaining Czech pictures that I want to post, but they'll have to remain delayed gratification issues for now.
I guess all I really have to say is that life remains in the works. There are so many plans and ideas swimming around that it's hard to catch my breath long enough to get any of them done. Suffice it to say, we seem to have survived the slow summer, and are hoping to see things pick up as vacationers return, and people suffering from the doldrums of the return to Oregon's prolonged rainy season seek us out for some retail therapy ;)
Saturday, August 18, 2012
The Touch of Tiny Fingers
A woman came in the shoppe today with her three year old granddaughter. They wandered around here and there looking at a variety of things. It was near closing time, so I sat at the front desk, listening to their interactions. It wasn't long before the inevitable conversation took place: you can look, but don't touch.
I purposely have very clear memories of being a small child. At an early age, I determined not to forget the feelings that burned inside of my young spirit. Being talked down to drove me bonkers. Discovering bits of onion in my food set my teeth on edge. Drinking powdered milk kicked in my overly developed gag reflex. (The list of food issues could go on for ages...) and every trip to the fabric store filled me with a burning desire to touch EVERYTHING.
I can't help but wonder what it is about small children that makes every experience so intense. I've been told scientifically that taste buds change with age. Yes, I do willingly eat things I once termed to be barfola. Our emotional skin hardens to the insults that once rocked our worlds. We learn the borders in society that frown upon inappropriate behaviors that start as innocent fascination in the young.
I guess my question is, what do we lose as we move away from early discovery, and become the people society expects us to be? I'm not suggesting shuffling off all the shackles of social norms, but perhaps we could all benefit from taking a moment to run our fingers over the rough and sparkly surface of a handmade card, or let our hands caress the bolts of fabric in the aisles, at least as long as we make sure to wash them first ;)
I purposely have very clear memories of being a small child. At an early age, I determined not to forget the feelings that burned inside of my young spirit. Being talked down to drove me bonkers. Discovering bits of onion in my food set my teeth on edge. Drinking powdered milk kicked in my overly developed gag reflex. (The list of food issues could go on for ages...) and every trip to the fabric store filled me with a burning desire to touch EVERYTHING.
I can't help but wonder what it is about small children that makes every experience so intense. I've been told scientifically that taste buds change with age. Yes, I do willingly eat things I once termed to be barfola. Our emotional skin hardens to the insults that once rocked our worlds. We learn the borders in society that frown upon inappropriate behaviors that start as innocent fascination in the young.
I guess my question is, what do we lose as we move away from early discovery, and become the people society expects us to be? I'm not suggesting shuffling off all the shackles of social norms, but perhaps we could all benefit from taking a moment to run our fingers over the rough and sparkly surface of a handmade card, or let our hands caress the bolts of fabric in the aisles, at least as long as we make sure to wash them first ;)
Thursday, August 16, 2012
How Cool Can 80* Be???
Portland is going through a touch of a heat wave these days. Fine by me, but the natives are grumbly. You'd think 300+ days of gray, drippy, depressing weather would be enough for them, but apparently that is not the case. After two days of weather over the 80* mark they start to let me know how unfavorable they find the temperature.
Having a shop that sells chocolate, and also caters to an older set, running the air conditioner on these toasty days is essential. Now, I will admit that temps over 100 can be a bit much, but it's still a far cry from the intense heat in Redding, CA, or the extreme humidity in Hong Kong. All the same, I've enjoyed telling the people who have commented on how nice and cool it is in the shoppe today, that I have the thermostat set at 80. Guess it just shows how relative things are...
We're hoping to do some deep cleaning here at the shoppe this weekend, which will no doubt make us even more thankful for the cool breeze. We want to get things looking all nice and fresh before we load the place up for the holidays. Guess I'll be pushing for the blessings of commercialism this time around...like I said, it's all relative.
Having a shop that sells chocolate, and also caters to an older set, running the air conditioner on these toasty days is essential. Now, I will admit that temps over 100 can be a bit much, but it's still a far cry from the intense heat in Redding, CA, or the extreme humidity in Hong Kong. All the same, I've enjoyed telling the people who have commented on how nice and cool it is in the shoppe today, that I have the thermostat set at 80. Guess it just shows how relative things are...
We're hoping to do some deep cleaning here at the shoppe this weekend, which will no doubt make us even more thankful for the cool breeze. We want to get things looking all nice and fresh before we load the place up for the holidays. Guess I'll be pushing for the blessings of commercialism this time around...like I said, it's all relative.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
Days of Uncertainty...
I've been trying to answer the question of who I am lately, and coming up befuddled. I've always been... I hesitate to use the word "cheap," so let's say "economical." There really has never been any other option in my life. Now, however, I own this store, which is driven by people buying things. I NEED people to buy things. Not just things that are on sale, but preferably the full priced merchandise. The thing is, it goes against what I would do personally, so I feel conflicted in the process.
When a person looks around a while, then leaves without a purchase, I find myself questioning what went wrong. "We have so many lovely cards and fun gifts, why didn't they get anything?" I ask myself. But how many times have I done the very same thing, never once thinking about how the person behind the counter might be feeling.
On quiet Saturdays, like today, I find myself willing people in off the streets, hoping they'll be overtaken by a need for fudge or a truffle, envisioning their delight in pop up cards, colorful scarves, or the beautiful photos in the cookbooks we have on display. But if I was in their position, I'd likely look around a while, then convince myself not to spend.
In this era of crisis, I keep finding information on how to save more and go without new things. That's all fine and good, and I do it all the time, but how can I justify that attitude next door to the need to keep our store running? Baffling, no?
Then I think of writing, I see my sad, neglected blog, my dusty journals, and my still unpublished manuscripts. Can I claim to be a writer? Am I still justified in longing for someone to buy a card, while denying myself to even enter a shopping mall? So many things to ponder as I sit and watch a fly buzzing along the shop window without a care in the world...
When a person looks around a while, then leaves without a purchase, I find myself questioning what went wrong. "We have so many lovely cards and fun gifts, why didn't they get anything?" I ask myself. But how many times have I done the very same thing, never once thinking about how the person behind the counter might be feeling.
On quiet Saturdays, like today, I find myself willing people in off the streets, hoping they'll be overtaken by a need for fudge or a truffle, envisioning their delight in pop up cards, colorful scarves, or the beautiful photos in the cookbooks we have on display. But if I was in their position, I'd likely look around a while, then convince myself not to spend.
In this era of crisis, I keep finding information on how to save more and go without new things. That's all fine and good, and I do it all the time, but how can I justify that attitude next door to the need to keep our store running? Baffling, no?
Then I think of writing, I see my sad, neglected blog, my dusty journals, and my still unpublished manuscripts. Can I claim to be a writer? Am I still justified in longing for someone to buy a card, while denying myself to even enter a shopping mall? So many things to ponder as I sit and watch a fly buzzing along the shop window without a care in the world...
Sunday, July 22, 2012
The Quest for Beauty
My life is full of routines. It's a must really. I depend on routine in order to be certain that important things are accomplished. I function best when I have a schedule. It is far to easy to become complacent and lazy when I don't have a clear view of what needs to be done.
But when life becomes routine, even when busy, it is easy to lapse into a different form or complacency. Things become mundane, and beauty is lost. I may not be the girliest of girls, but I do have an appreciation for beauty, and a need to experience it in my life on a regular basis.
Recently, I have become enamored with the blog of a friend of mine that I met in Hong Kong. We weren't particularly close, but we attended the same church and hung out together in groups. But I never really got to know her well. As most people realize, Facebook has made it possible to connect with the people you never really got to know very well, or knew once upon a time, but lost track of. A post here and there pops up, and occasionally leads to a new development in that relationship. This is one of those cases.
I started reading her blog and found myself transported to a world where beauty still exists. She posts beautiful pictures, and writes about lovely things. Something about going there just feels lavish. I needed that. Just a little jolt of something more to remind me that life in this moment is precious, and there is still beauty in this world.
I drive a lot these days. It takes about an hour to get to work one way. On most evenings, as I exit I-5 and head onto 99, I pass a man holding a sign "Laid Off, Now Homeless. I want to work. Anything helps." The patterns of my life, the routines of my existence, have taught me to be high suspicious of such people. I know there are jobs out there to be had. They might not be dream jobs, but they're better than standing on the street. I know there are organizations designed to help people in such situations. Churches, homeless shelters, etc. go out of their way to serve the least of these. I also know that a large number of these people just want to score easy money to support their detrimental habits.
The truth is, I've seen at least three different men working this intersection. One is young and his posture reeks of cockiness. Another is probably in his late fifties, and seems more suited to a motorcycle than anything else. The the third man has always had a look about him that made me wonder...
One of my chief concerns is to avoid enabling people like this to continue down a destructive path. I won't hand out money. But the other day I was parked only a few from him, and I knew I had an orange in my bag. So I rolled down my window and called out to the man, "Would you like an orange?"
His response was immediate, and his gratitude clearly evident. "I would love an orange," he said with utmost sincerity. He walked over to the car and I handed it to him with a smile. The truth is, we aren't flush with money right now in the slightest. I could have used that orange. But the beauty I experienced in that small gesture was truly explosive. He returned to his post and slipped the small orange into his nap sack. I rolled up my window. The light turned green, and as I began to roll forward he made eye contact and mouthed a silent "Thank You."
My eyes flooded with tears as I moved on. I don't know how he ended up on that corner. I don't know what he really needs to get himself into a better place. But he took an orange from my hand, and passed beauty back to me.
There is not enough beauty in the world, but if you open your eyes, it does still exist, even on the worst of days.
But when life becomes routine, even when busy, it is easy to lapse into a different form or complacency. Things become mundane, and beauty is lost. I may not be the girliest of girls, but I do have an appreciation for beauty, and a need to experience it in my life on a regular basis.
Recently, I have become enamored with the blog of a friend of mine that I met in Hong Kong. We weren't particularly close, but we attended the same church and hung out together in groups. But I never really got to know her well. As most people realize, Facebook has made it possible to connect with the people you never really got to know very well, or knew once upon a time, but lost track of. A post here and there pops up, and occasionally leads to a new development in that relationship. This is one of those cases.
I started reading her blog and found myself transported to a world where beauty still exists. She posts beautiful pictures, and writes about lovely things. Something about going there just feels lavish. I needed that. Just a little jolt of something more to remind me that life in this moment is precious, and there is still beauty in this world.
I drive a lot these days. It takes about an hour to get to work one way. On most evenings, as I exit I-5 and head onto 99, I pass a man holding a sign "Laid Off, Now Homeless. I want to work. Anything helps." The patterns of my life, the routines of my existence, have taught me to be high suspicious of such people. I know there are jobs out there to be had. They might not be dream jobs, but they're better than standing on the street. I know there are organizations designed to help people in such situations. Churches, homeless shelters, etc. go out of their way to serve the least of these. I also know that a large number of these people just want to score easy money to support their detrimental habits.
The truth is, I've seen at least three different men working this intersection. One is young and his posture reeks of cockiness. Another is probably in his late fifties, and seems more suited to a motorcycle than anything else. The the third man has always had a look about him that made me wonder...
One of my chief concerns is to avoid enabling people like this to continue down a destructive path. I won't hand out money. But the other day I was parked only a few from him, and I knew I had an orange in my bag. So I rolled down my window and called out to the man, "Would you like an orange?"
His response was immediate, and his gratitude clearly evident. "I would love an orange," he said with utmost sincerity. He walked over to the car and I handed it to him with a smile. The truth is, we aren't flush with money right now in the slightest. I could have used that orange. But the beauty I experienced in that small gesture was truly explosive. He returned to his post and slipped the small orange into his nap sack. I rolled up my window. The light turned green, and as I began to roll forward he made eye contact and mouthed a silent "Thank You."
My eyes flooded with tears as I moved on. I don't know how he ended up on that corner. I don't know what he really needs to get himself into a better place. But he took an orange from my hand, and passed beauty back to me.
There is not enough beauty in the world, but if you open your eyes, it does still exist, even on the worst of days.
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Those Goals I Had
When I was a senior in high school my social studies teacher had us do the coolest thing. We wrote letters to ourselves five years in the future. I have no idea how seriously other people took this project, but being the weirdo I have always been, I didn't just write a note, I wrote pages and pages and pages to my future self. I had thoughts about who I would, or more importantly "should" be, and I minced no words. It bordered between being thoughtful and belligerent.
Five years later, as promised, the letter arrived. I was surprised by how judgmental I had been, disappointed by some of the goals I had not achieved, and amused at 18's naievety. There was so much I could not have known, no matter how well acquainted I believed myself to be with me.
At this point in time the writing and receiving of that letter are both distant history. In fact, last week I passed the 20th anniversary of the "epic" crash when my thirteen year old summer plans were dashed by a broken back. Life goes so quickly, and changes happen before I can even catch my breath and accept the fact that I'm not even in my twenties anymore.
Which all leads me to this post about the uncertainties of life, and the best laid plans. In January, when I was spending my days being caught up on journal writing, facebook updates, and spending hours a day writing my challenge book (which I still haven't nailed down a publishing plan for, grrr) it seemed that making a goal of reaching 100 posts this year conceivable. After all, I had never even heard of Holliday Gift Shoppe. Sure, I knew we were moving and would have to settle in and find jobs and all that sort of stuff, but I had NO clue of where life was about to take me. So now I find myself almost through June, with fewer than 30 posts, and it's clear that my bombardment of the Internet is not going so well. On the other hand, I'm a business owner now. Sounds pretty grown up, doesn't it?
I guess the question now is, what would 18 year old me think of the life I've ended up with? And what absurdities would I write to the me of the future, only to have that same future me shake her head at just how off my ideas were...
Five years later, as promised, the letter arrived. I was surprised by how judgmental I had been, disappointed by some of the goals I had not achieved, and amused at 18's naievety. There was so much I could not have known, no matter how well acquainted I believed myself to be with me.
At this point in time the writing and receiving of that letter are both distant history. In fact, last week I passed the 20th anniversary of the "epic" crash when my thirteen year old summer plans were dashed by a broken back. Life goes so quickly, and changes happen before I can even catch my breath and accept the fact that I'm not even in my twenties anymore.
Which all leads me to this post about the uncertainties of life, and the best laid plans. In January, when I was spending my days being caught up on journal writing, facebook updates, and spending hours a day writing my challenge book (which I still haven't nailed down a publishing plan for, grrr) it seemed that making a goal of reaching 100 posts this year conceivable. After all, I had never even heard of Holliday Gift Shoppe. Sure, I knew we were moving and would have to settle in and find jobs and all that sort of stuff, but I had NO clue of where life was about to take me. So now I find myself almost through June, with fewer than 30 posts, and it's clear that my bombardment of the Internet is not going so well. On the other hand, I'm a business owner now. Sounds pretty grown up, doesn't it?
I guess the question now is, what would 18 year old me think of the life I've ended up with? And what absurdities would I write to the me of the future, only to have that same future me shake her head at just how off my ideas were...
Monday, June 4, 2012
Living the Life Self-Employed
I think there is something misleading about being Self-Employed. It makes it sound as though a person is somehow in control of their destiny. It implies a certain amount of freedom and self-possession. What it really means is that suddenly EVERYTHING is upon you. The "really" fun part is having no clue what "everything" entails.
Maybe it has something to do with laziness, but I've always rather enjoyed letting someone else worry about the details. Just tell me what to do, and chances are, I can manage to do it. But leave it up to me to figure everything out, and it's almost guaranteed to be a mistake.
Sure, I can manage to travel around the world on my own. I can manage my own money, and make sure the most important details are taken care of, but this is a little beyond that. I'm not trying to complain. I'm just trying to figure out what all the hoopla is about being a self-employed business owner. Rather than feeling like I have discovered financial freedom, I've managed to reinstate a frenzied level of stress and worry that has my back tied in ridiculous knots. Sadly, I'm a long way from a Chinese or Balinese spa treatment. (sigh)
On a positive note, good things are happening all around me. Over Memorial Day weekend I was blessed to go to my friend Savana's wedding down in Seiad Valley, CA. It was amazing to be able to drive my husband down the Klamath River and introduce him to the world and some of the people from my childhood.
Then, on June first, my sister Julie had her third child. It'll be a couple months before I have the chance to give little Myrtle Lark Hopper a proper cuddling, but it's a blessing to know there's a fresh baby out there just waiting to meet her Auntie Sarah.
On Friday, my nephew Tyler rocked it on the baseball field. Not only did he score a run, he also caught three hits to right field, sending the batters straight out and helping his team take home the Oregon State Championship at the 3A level! It was so fun to be there to cheer him on, just like we cheered his little brother Jack on when his 9 and 10s little league team won state last summer.
I keep telling myself I'll post at home one of these days so I can add photos, but it keeps not happening. (sigh) At least I managed to get another round of editing done on my challenge book. Now I have to will myself to figure out how to get it out in the hands of hopefully eager readers to help boost that self-employed summer income...
Maybe it has something to do with laziness, but I've always rather enjoyed letting someone else worry about the details. Just tell me what to do, and chances are, I can manage to do it. But leave it up to me to figure everything out, and it's almost guaranteed to be a mistake.
Sure, I can manage to travel around the world on my own. I can manage my own money, and make sure the most important details are taken care of, but this is a little beyond that. I'm not trying to complain. I'm just trying to figure out what all the hoopla is about being a self-employed business owner. Rather than feeling like I have discovered financial freedom, I've managed to reinstate a frenzied level of stress and worry that has my back tied in ridiculous knots. Sadly, I'm a long way from a Chinese or Balinese spa treatment. (sigh)
On a positive note, good things are happening all around me. Over Memorial Day weekend I was blessed to go to my friend Savana's wedding down in Seiad Valley, CA. It was amazing to be able to drive my husband down the Klamath River and introduce him to the world and some of the people from my childhood.
Then, on June first, my sister Julie had her third child. It'll be a couple months before I have the chance to give little Myrtle Lark Hopper a proper cuddling, but it's a blessing to know there's a fresh baby out there just waiting to meet her Auntie Sarah.
On Friday, my nephew Tyler rocked it on the baseball field. Not only did he score a run, he also caught three hits to right field, sending the batters straight out and helping his team take home the Oregon State Championship at the 3A level! It was so fun to be there to cheer him on, just like we cheered his little brother Jack on when his 9 and 10s little league team won state last summer.
I keep telling myself I'll post at home one of these days so I can add photos, but it keeps not happening. (sigh) At least I managed to get another round of editing done on my challenge book. Now I have to will myself to figure out how to get it out in the hands of hopefully eager readers to help boost that self-employed summer income...
Monday, April 30, 2012
Poetry in the Post Office
I don't have a lot of time to write these days. Quite frankly, I don't have a whole lot of time for anything. The past three weeks I've been working 6 days a week. With the hour long commute in each direction that means I get home in the evening ready to do nothing in particular. With the introduction of TV and internet back into our house as of Friday, that means I'm one again thankful to erase any thoughts in design heaven, or smother them with images of fanciful food. Perhaps the fact that my house looks more like we're about to move out than in, and the kitchen has yet to be cooked in (except when my parents visited and did the cooking for us a bit ago) makes this guilty pleasure even more pathetic, but also necessary.
So I can't say that I feel like much of a writer at the moment. My novel is still in the hands of reviewers, and I haven't even had the energy to check in with any of them. I'm still getting regular e-mails from self pub outfits, and I'm just stockpiling them in my inbox along with all the ads for high priced gadgets, fabulous home decor (which would no doubt clash with the brown flowered couches that are older than me but still look essentially new), sweet scented soaps, and photo developing services. I keep saying that once I get into a flow I'll have time to start up Czech lessons, get more writing done, start journaling again, and connect with human beings outside of my work environment. But figuring out when normalcy is going to hit, or when I'm going to resign myself to the fact that work and TV are about all I have time for anymore if I want to maintain my sanity, I don't know. Every now and again I ponder those new year's revolutionary ideas, and then I start thinking about finances again and everything else disappears. I certainly did not see this future as we stood in the snow in Marianske Lazne watching Karel's fireworks sparkle dazzlingly in the sky.
In the end, all I can really say is, we have twentieth century poet stamps for sale in the post office, and that makes my little English major heart swell with joy. Sylvia Plath on a stamp. Is there any other word for that than "magical?" I think not.
So I can't say that I feel like much of a writer at the moment. My novel is still in the hands of reviewers, and I haven't even had the energy to check in with any of them. I'm still getting regular e-mails from self pub outfits, and I'm just stockpiling them in my inbox along with all the ads for high priced gadgets, fabulous home decor (which would no doubt clash with the brown flowered couches that are older than me but still look essentially new), sweet scented soaps, and photo developing services. I keep saying that once I get into a flow I'll have time to start up Czech lessons, get more writing done, start journaling again, and connect with human beings outside of my work environment. But figuring out when normalcy is going to hit, or when I'm going to resign myself to the fact that work and TV are about all I have time for anymore if I want to maintain my sanity, I don't know. Every now and again I ponder those new year's revolutionary ideas, and then I start thinking about finances again and everything else disappears. I certainly did not see this future as we stood in the snow in Marianske Lazne watching Karel's fireworks sparkle dazzlingly in the sky.
In the end, all I can really say is, we have twentieth century poet stamps for sale in the post office, and that makes my little English major heart swell with joy. Sylvia Plath on a stamp. Is there any other word for that than "magical?" I think not.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Who Saw This Coming?
I'm still at work, and therefore not on a machine I can upload pictures to, so this will sadly be another blank piece. We have ordered internet for home, and should rejoin the connected world on Friday. Hopefully, when we get the internet revamped here at work, I'll be able to use my iPad here during those summer down months everyone keeps telling us we're going to have...
Anyhow, as odd as it all appears, owning a card shop and post office was meant to be. When I was 9 I started my card selling career in order to raise money for Christmas gifts. Every Autumn my Dad and I would brave the blustery drives along the Klamath and Scott River roads, sending the little fog ghosties scurrying away as we offered the local residents the ability to shop from home. Dad saw it as a great opportunity to visit with people he wouldn't necessarily have an excuse to see, while I spent the evenings wishing he wasn't quite so chatty so I could make more sales.
This tradition continued all the way through High School, and went hand in hand with my insatiable letter writing phase. I began my pen pal lettter writing career around the same time, with friends from camp and school exchanges, as well as college aged siblings. After moving from Horse Creek, CA to Blodgett, OR, my letter writing skyrocketed as I would send in excess of ten letters a week back to my friends on the river. Postage was a wee bit cheaper back then, and the internet had scarcely been invented, so my parents thought it was a pretty good deal.
Due to my writing and mailing fixations, when I took a business class in high school (the only way I could learn more about computers and keep my typing skills functioning) we did a city simulation in which I ran the post office. Eerie, isn't it?
Perhaps the funniest part of all is that I didn't even think about any of these things when Mark first brought up the advertisement for a card/gift shop, and post office business for sale. It wasn't until we had made it through the harrowing negotiating process, and managed to land the lease, the business and the postal contract that I realized just how much I had been training for this opportunity. God really does work in mysterious ways :)
I still can't say I've become business minded, or that the prospect of figuring out how to do taxes next fills me with glee, but the actual job is far more interesting than I ever thought it would be. We're working in a great neighborhood in Southwest Portland, meeting lots of lovely people, and falling in love with cards all over again.
I haven't forgotten about my writing. When I think about the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the year I cringe a bit in the face of all the new responsibilities I have taken on, but the desire to still have a personal life remains. Guess I'll just have to wait and see how it all plays out, but at least I'm writing again, bit by bit...
Anyhow, as odd as it all appears, owning a card shop and post office was meant to be. When I was 9 I started my card selling career in order to raise money for Christmas gifts. Every Autumn my Dad and I would brave the blustery drives along the Klamath and Scott River roads, sending the little fog ghosties scurrying away as we offered the local residents the ability to shop from home. Dad saw it as a great opportunity to visit with people he wouldn't necessarily have an excuse to see, while I spent the evenings wishing he wasn't quite so chatty so I could make more sales.
This tradition continued all the way through High School, and went hand in hand with my insatiable letter writing phase. I began my pen pal lettter writing career around the same time, with friends from camp and school exchanges, as well as college aged siblings. After moving from Horse Creek, CA to Blodgett, OR, my letter writing skyrocketed as I would send in excess of ten letters a week back to my friends on the river. Postage was a wee bit cheaper back then, and the internet had scarcely been invented, so my parents thought it was a pretty good deal.
Due to my writing and mailing fixations, when I took a business class in high school (the only way I could learn more about computers and keep my typing skills functioning) we did a city simulation in which I ran the post office. Eerie, isn't it?
Perhaps the funniest part of all is that I didn't even think about any of these things when Mark first brought up the advertisement for a card/gift shop, and post office business for sale. It wasn't until we had made it through the harrowing negotiating process, and managed to land the lease, the business and the postal contract that I realized just how much I had been training for this opportunity. God really does work in mysterious ways :)
I still can't say I've become business minded, or that the prospect of figuring out how to do taxes next fills me with glee, but the actual job is far more interesting than I ever thought it would be. We're working in a great neighborhood in Southwest Portland, meeting lots of lovely people, and falling in love with cards all over again.
I haven't forgotten about my writing. When I think about the goals I set for myself at the beginning of the year I cringe a bit in the face of all the new responsibilities I have taken on, but the desire to still have a personal life remains. Guess I'll just have to wait and see how it all plays out, but at least I'm writing again, bit by bit...
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
March Madness and April Angst...
Fallen off the face of the earth? Well, not exactly. More like, fallen into business. Of all the most random things. It's really quite a story. And one of these days I'll have a few minutes to spare and an internet connection in my own home, and I'll fill in those missing details. For now, I'll keep it brief in order to keep up appearances.
We got back to the US and jumped straight into the frightening world of negotiating to buy a store. About the craziest thing you've ever heard? I could say the same. Perhaps I should always have known it was meant to be. I sit here in the Holliday Card Shoppe, a business owner, selling cards like I started doing when I was nine in order to buy my family Christmas presents. Now I'm doing it full time in order to, well, live.
So the writing has fallen behind. After fifteen years of writing EVERY day in my journal, I haven't opened my most recent one in more than a month and a half. I've a feeling I won't be able to fill in every moment of every day that I've missed over the past couple months, but I'll try to slowly recreate the turmoil and the terrifying thrills that have led us to this moment.
Forgive the hiatus, but there should be something of note coming in the future.
Thanks for peeking back in, and I do hope to be back to my old ways again shortly.
We got back to the US and jumped straight into the frightening world of negotiating to buy a store. About the craziest thing you've ever heard? I could say the same. Perhaps I should always have known it was meant to be. I sit here in the Holliday Card Shoppe, a business owner, selling cards like I started doing when I was nine in order to buy my family Christmas presents. Now I'm doing it full time in order to, well, live.
So the writing has fallen behind. After fifteen years of writing EVERY day in my journal, I haven't opened my most recent one in more than a month and a half. I've a feeling I won't be able to fill in every moment of every day that I've missed over the past couple months, but I'll try to slowly recreate the turmoil and the terrifying thrills that have led us to this moment.
Forgive the hiatus, but there should be something of note coming in the future.
Thanks for peeking back in, and I do hope to be back to my old ways again shortly.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Or is it possible after all...
Before I get into this post, I must quickly vent. I just wrote this post. I published this post. I pulled it all together and it was decent enough. Then I noticed that the "labels" section had gone all wonky. Suddenly it said it was about the fair and English Grammar, although I know for a fact that nothing like that was mentioned in the post. So I went to delete those two little errors and republish it, only somehow the text disappeared. Very very odd indeed.
Anyhow, perhaps if the quote exists then it still exists. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't claim credit for the title. It is from a poem by T.S.Eliot called "The Four Quartets. This bit can be found at the beginning of the first Quartet in "Burnt Norton."
It goes along with my thoughts in the moment of how time is just evaporating before my very eyes. Three months sounds like an awfully long time to be out of the country, but the truth is, it's nothing but a breath, held in and then exhaled slowly. It goes so quickly, and there is no way to press pause. The idea that time exists all at once, that it is, in fact, a fourth dimension that we have yet to master and understand, is a fascinating one. I read "The Time Machine," by H.G.Wells last month, and he posed some interesting theories not just about time travel but about the destination of humanity and all of life. Interesting. Not very useful to me at the moment, however.
In about two weeks we'll be back in the US. It's hard to believe, and comes with a mixed bag of emotions. It's been good to be with family here, and to visit with old friends. For my husband, it has been life giving in so many ways. Naturally, it is hard to leave this place, especially when we are uncertain when we'll be able to come back. At the same time, it's exciting to think about where life is taking us. We will be starting fresh. We will be able to really unpack and settle in. I can't begin to express how exciting that is. It has been over two years since I've lived a life without my clothes in sacks or suitcases, and even longer since I've had a place that felt like a home I could call my own. I can't deny, that desire to "nest," to put pictures on the walls, to create a design and spread out, is HUGE! I'm also ready to reach out and be a part of a community again. In some senses, I haven't really experienced that since Hong Kong, which is now almost 7 years in the past.
But the return also comes with plenty of nervousness. Neither one of us has jobs, or any prospects of jobs. We're starting at the beginning. Again. While this always provides a million options, it doesn't always mean success. There is plenty of worry seeking to sabotage my brains ability to properly function. I have an overabundance of plans, from a book I'd like to publish, to craft projects, and an odd desire to learn how to sew so I can keep up with all those other ladies who know how to be grown ups out there. Let's not even talk about my paranoia about up coming kitchen tasks. It's one of those things I know I'm just going to have to deal with, but I dread it the way a lot of people dread going to the dentist.
I find myself, for about the millionth time, on the crux of life change. There is so much to look forward to and woner about and even to fear. I want to do things right, but have no idea how to go about most of the things I'm about to step into. It's exciting and terrifying at the same time.
The question now is: was this post better than the post that drifted away into infinity? Apparently you can see for yourself, for after appearing vacant several times, including in my life feed, the post miraculously has now reappeared. And so it exists in both versions. I'm just going to leave it this way, because I find it interesting to see how my thoughts progressed. If you are afraid it will be to redundant to read twice, no matter.
Anyhow, perhaps if the quote exists then it still exists. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I can't claim credit for the title. It is from a poem by T.S.Eliot called "The Four Quartets. This bit can be found at the beginning of the first Quartet in "Burnt Norton."
Time present and time past- T.S.Eliot
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past.
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.
It goes along with my thoughts in the moment of how time is just evaporating before my very eyes. Three months sounds like an awfully long time to be out of the country, but the truth is, it's nothing but a breath, held in and then exhaled slowly. It goes so quickly, and there is no way to press pause. The idea that time exists all at once, that it is, in fact, a fourth dimension that we have yet to master and understand, is a fascinating one. I read "The Time Machine," by H.G.Wells last month, and he posed some interesting theories not just about time travel but about the destination of humanity and all of life. Interesting. Not very useful to me at the moment, however.
In about two weeks we'll be back in the US. It's hard to believe, and comes with a mixed bag of emotions. It's been good to be with family here, and to visit with old friends. For my husband, it has been life giving in so many ways. Naturally, it is hard to leave this place, especially when we are uncertain when we'll be able to come back. At the same time, it's exciting to think about where life is taking us. We will be starting fresh. We will be able to really unpack and settle in. I can't begin to express how exciting that is. It has been over two years since I've lived a life without my clothes in sacks or suitcases, and even longer since I've had a place that felt like a home I could call my own. I can't deny, that desire to "nest," to put pictures on the walls, to create a design and spread out, is HUGE! I'm also ready to reach out and be a part of a community again. In some senses, I haven't really experienced that since Hong Kong, which is now almost 7 years in the past.
But the return also comes with plenty of nervousness. Neither one of us has jobs, or any prospects of jobs. We're starting at the beginning. Again. While this always provides a million options, it doesn't always mean success. There is plenty of worry seeking to sabotage my brains ability to properly function. I have an overabundance of plans, from a book I'd like to publish, to craft projects, and an odd desire to learn how to sew so I can keep up with all those other ladies who know how to be grown ups out there. Let's not even talk about my paranoia about up coming kitchen tasks. It's one of those things I know I'm just going to have to deal with, but I dread it the way a lot of people dread going to the dentist.
I find myself, for about the millionth time, on the crux of life change. There is so much to look forward to and woner about and even to fear. I want to do things right, but have no idea how to go about most of the things I'm about to step into. It's exciting and terrifying at the same time.
The question now is: was this post better than the post that drifted away into infinity? Apparently you can see for yourself, for after appearing vacant several times, including in my life feed, the post miraculously has now reappeared. And so it exists in both versions. I'm just going to leave it this way, because I find it interesting to see how my thoughts progressed. If you are afraid it will be to redundant to read twice, no matter.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Two Weeks Notice...
I feel like my job status is endlessly in transition these days as well. Right after getting my promotion, I've now had to give my two weeks notice that I'm quitting. I don't regret taking the job for the short term. It has helped the store out, as well as providing me with more hours, higher pay and a greater range of job experience over the past couple of months. Of course the fact that I've worked CLOSE every single day that I've had this job is pretty annoying. Okay, that's slightly wrong. I was the mid shift one day I think. But otherwise I've had to close by myself since I started working in the Moscow store. That's not exactly cool. Especially since previously I was working only in the mornings.
I haven't actually talked to the store manager yet, that'll come today in a few hours (ugh) but I told the assistant manager. She fully understood, and I think I should still be able to get a good reference, as well as possibly being able to get a job at the same store over in Oregon when we come back. Not sure if I really want that, but it's always good to have options.
So two weeks from Saturday (that's Nov 19th) I'll work my final shift. While I'm totally ready to move on, and really excited about our trip back to Czech, it's also a bit nerve wracking to know that I'll be unemployed once more. Not really my favorite way to be. I pretty much abhor having everything up in the air. I like plans, and having everything lined up and in place. Right now I'm looking at a black hole sort of future again, and, quite frankly, that freaks me out.
It's one of those times when I have to pull back again and remind myself that God is in control, and while I don't have all the answers, he certainly does. I know the road might still be far from easy, but He will make all things right in His perfect timing. Just have to count on that to get me through.
Which reminds me, I got an absolutely lovely gift box from my friends Amy and Nate. Included in the box was a book about Creative Worship from my old church in Hong Kong, The Vine. It's a great workbook, focused on using all aspects of creativity to worship God. I really appreciate that it stresses how music is not the only outlet we can use for worship. This is especially poignant since the main author of the book is married to the music leader at the church. Anyhow, quite a few of my friends were involved in the project, and I'm so excited to see how God will use this book in my life. It's been a hard and strange disconnected sort of year. I feel unsettled and distracted at best, so it's great to revive a little focus in my life.
Here's to the next chapter about to begin...
I haven't actually talked to the store manager yet, that'll come today in a few hours (ugh) but I told the assistant manager. She fully understood, and I think I should still be able to get a good reference, as well as possibly being able to get a job at the same store over in Oregon when we come back. Not sure if I really want that, but it's always good to have options.
So two weeks from Saturday (that's Nov 19th) I'll work my final shift. While I'm totally ready to move on, and really excited about our trip back to Czech, it's also a bit nerve wracking to know that I'll be unemployed once more. Not really my favorite way to be. I pretty much abhor having everything up in the air. I like plans, and having everything lined up and in place. Right now I'm looking at a black hole sort of future again, and, quite frankly, that freaks me out.
It's one of those times when I have to pull back again and remind myself that God is in control, and while I don't have all the answers, he certainly does. I know the road might still be far from easy, but He will make all things right in His perfect timing. Just have to count on that to get me through.
Which reminds me, I got an absolutely lovely gift box from my friends Amy and Nate. Included in the box was a book about Creative Worship from my old church in Hong Kong, The Vine. It's a great workbook, focused on using all aspects of creativity to worship God. I really appreciate that it stresses how music is not the only outlet we can use for worship. This is especially poignant since the main author of the book is married to the music leader at the church. Anyhow, quite a few of my friends were involved in the project, and I'm so excited to see how God will use this book in my life. It's been a hard and strange disconnected sort of year. I feel unsettled and distracted at best, so it's great to revive a little focus in my life.
Here's to the next chapter about to begin...
Sunday, October 16, 2011
The Slice Saga Continues
Yesterday I let it sit. I avoided water. I kept it safe. I'll confess, I was a wee bit afraid of what I might find if I opened it up. Today, that was no longer an option.
I did my best to cover it for my shower, but in the midst of it all, the water began to leak in. I looked down and suddenly discovered that the little bit of plastic bag I'd taped on was full of blood. Hmmm... definitely not so good.
I tend to pride myself on being pretty tough. I mean, I broke my back when I was thirteen and didn't even cry. That has to count for something. Generally blood isn't a huge issue for me, but every now and then...well, it just is. For instance there was the time in Hong Kong when I was taking a baby to the hospital and things didn't turn out very well. I was doing my best to keep little Tsz Ching quiet and calm while they squeezed individual drops of blood out of her hand, and thought it was going okay. then I started to feel a little woozy. Next thing I knew there were strangers waking me up. To make a long, and rather amusing story short, I passed out and hit the floor so hard that I broke the frame of my glasses into my head and had such a serious concussion that a week later I was still hardly able to do anything but sleep.
Back to this morning, I thought I was doing okay with the sight of the blood, but then I had to deal with actually taking off the bandages. It was not just painful, it was downright disgusting. When you bleed enough to soak through five bandages there's a lot of blood just hanging out. The farther I went the more light headed I got. In the end I can count at least 5 maybe 6 times when I nearly passed out and had to literally curl up in a ball on the floor until the nausea and spinning stars passed.
In the end I did get down to the skin. It was far from pretty, but I think it should heal up all right. Even if I had gone to the doctor I probably would have just gotten a butterfly bandage.
I survived another evening of work, and now we're watching some Cesko Slovenska Ma Talent (Czech and Slovakia have Talent). Good fun. It'll really help to prepare me for being culturally in tune when we head back at the end of next month.
I did my best to cover it for my shower, but in the midst of it all, the water began to leak in. I looked down and suddenly discovered that the little bit of plastic bag I'd taped on was full of blood. Hmmm... definitely not so good.
I tend to pride myself on being pretty tough. I mean, I broke my back when I was thirteen and didn't even cry. That has to count for something. Generally blood isn't a huge issue for me, but every now and then...well, it just is. For instance there was the time in Hong Kong when I was taking a baby to the hospital and things didn't turn out very well. I was doing my best to keep little Tsz Ching quiet and calm while they squeezed individual drops of blood out of her hand, and thought it was going okay. then I started to feel a little woozy. Next thing I knew there were strangers waking me up. To make a long, and rather amusing story short, I passed out and hit the floor so hard that I broke the frame of my glasses into my head and had such a serious concussion that a week later I was still hardly able to do anything but sleep.
Back to this morning, I thought I was doing okay with the sight of the blood, but then I had to deal with actually taking off the bandages. It was not just painful, it was downright disgusting. When you bleed enough to soak through five bandages there's a lot of blood just hanging out. The farther I went the more light headed I got. In the end I can count at least 5 maybe 6 times when I nearly passed out and had to literally curl up in a ball on the floor until the nausea and spinning stars passed.
In the end I did get down to the skin. It was far from pretty, but I think it should heal up all right. Even if I had gone to the doctor I probably would have just gotten a butterfly bandage.
I survived another evening of work, and now we're watching some Cesko Slovenska Ma Talent (Czech and Slovakia have Talent). Good fun. It'll really help to prepare me for being culturally in tune when we head back at the end of next month.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Slice
Well, I seem to have survived my first week in my new managerial position. Kind of got thrown to the wolves a bit, but all the people I work with know a lot more about the closing shift than I do, and they're pretty much fantastic, so it wasn't all that difficult. Still not overly thrilled with the new timing of it all. I've found myself staying up later, but also enjoying the ability to roll over and fall back to sleep maybe a little too much. Rather defeats the purpose of the 7:30 alarm when I don't manage to pull myself out of bed until 8, or 8:30, or, um 9:30 as it was by the end of the week. Slowly those few precious writing hours become a thing of the past and I'm back to the procrastinating fool I've so sadly become.
But with all things, once I get the hang of it this new schedule will also become routine. Especially seeing as how I'm working closing pretty much the whole month. Oh the joy.
Things were rolling pretty well by last night. I'd made it through a week, and had managed to get basically everything completed that I was supposed to do. I was in the midst of throwing out the trash when, suddenly, SLICE! And we're not just talking a little scrape. We're talking a chunk of flesh literally hanging off my finger followed by a lovely gushing of blood. It didn't hurt all that much, but that might mean it's because it was really deep/clean. Hmmm...
Anyhow, I quickly relocked and started the trash compactor. Did you know it's a crime to run a trash compactor if you're under the age of 18. Federal. Seriously. I can understand safety first and all, but a crime? Wee bit silly, don't you think. Reminds me of how a customer said she was old enough to still remember when she was free in America...Do we maybe underestimate the ability of people to generally make wise decisions most of the time and not need laws to tell them how to live life? Just an idea.
That really rumbled into an aside awfully quickly. I've been thinking of writing a piece on Stream of Consciousness recently. Might be fun. Anyhow, back to the story at hand, or more appropriately, the story of my hand. I rushed to get a bandage as the blood really started to spurt out. I continued on to the bathroom, and a colleague kindly opened the door for me. The blood was really flowing freely by then and I rinsed it off as much as I could stand. If I let it be it didn't hurt to much, but even the most minimal water pressure was excruciating.
I tried to staunch the bleeding and dry myself up a bit with some toilet paper - no paper towels in our restroom. It helped a bit, but the blood just kept coming so I wrapped the bandage on. By the time I got out of the restroom to the fitting room (the hall is about fifteen/twenty feet long) blood was already oozing out of the bandage. Not so good.
I added a second, then a third. Pretty picture, eh? Of course then I was called up to a register. I helped a couple people, and by then those bandages were getting filled up. In all I ended up with five plasters wrapped tightly around my right index finger. Even now, under the puffy wrappings, the blood is visible, but it the last one was pretty tight so it helped to slow it down. I can honestly say I've never soaked through even one bandage before. It was quite disturbing.
And get this. We had our safety lunch today. Celebrating almost 600 days accident free. I couldn't very well end the winning streak. Basically, as long as I don't have to go to the doctor we're still good to go. It's been more than 24 hours now, but I'm still not quite brave enough to cut off all the layers and see what's going on inside. I'll give it a little more time and maybe then...
On that note, I'm thinking of making the bloody finger cookies I read about in Rachel Ray for our staff Halloween dessert potluck on the 31st. I imagine I can have a pretty decent picture to go by.
But with all things, once I get the hang of it this new schedule will also become routine. Especially seeing as how I'm working closing pretty much the whole month. Oh the joy.
Things were rolling pretty well by last night. I'd made it through a week, and had managed to get basically everything completed that I was supposed to do. I was in the midst of throwing out the trash when, suddenly, SLICE! And we're not just talking a little scrape. We're talking a chunk of flesh literally hanging off my finger followed by a lovely gushing of blood. It didn't hurt all that much, but that might mean it's because it was really deep/clean. Hmmm...
Anyhow, I quickly relocked and started the trash compactor. Did you know it's a crime to run a trash compactor if you're under the age of 18. Federal. Seriously. I can understand safety first and all, but a crime? Wee bit silly, don't you think. Reminds me of how a customer said she was old enough to still remember when she was free in America...Do we maybe underestimate the ability of people to generally make wise decisions most of the time and not need laws to tell them how to live life? Just an idea.
That really rumbled into an aside awfully quickly. I've been thinking of writing a piece on Stream of Consciousness recently. Might be fun. Anyhow, back to the story at hand, or more appropriately, the story of my hand. I rushed to get a bandage as the blood really started to spurt out. I continued on to the bathroom, and a colleague kindly opened the door for me. The blood was really flowing freely by then and I rinsed it off as much as I could stand. If I let it be it didn't hurt to much, but even the most minimal water pressure was excruciating.
I tried to staunch the bleeding and dry myself up a bit with some toilet paper - no paper towels in our restroom. It helped a bit, but the blood just kept coming so I wrapped the bandage on. By the time I got out of the restroom to the fitting room (the hall is about fifteen/twenty feet long) blood was already oozing out of the bandage. Not so good.
I added a second, then a third. Pretty picture, eh? Of course then I was called up to a register. I helped a couple people, and by then those bandages were getting filled up. In all I ended up with five plasters wrapped tightly around my right index finger. Even now, under the puffy wrappings, the blood is visible, but it the last one was pretty tight so it helped to slow it down. I can honestly say I've never soaked through even one bandage before. It was quite disturbing.
And get this. We had our safety lunch today. Celebrating almost 600 days accident free. I couldn't very well end the winning streak. Basically, as long as I don't have to go to the doctor we're still good to go. It's been more than 24 hours now, but I'm still not quite brave enough to cut off all the layers and see what's going on inside. I'll give it a little more time and maybe then...
On that note, I'm thinking of making the bloody finger cookies I read about in Rachel Ray for our staff Halloween dessert potluck on the 31st. I imagine I can have a pretty decent picture to go by.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Scheduling Challenges
I've never been a morning person. Well, unless you count Saturday mornings during childhood where my body always managed to wake up before 7 AM. I'd curl up on the floor under a blanket, inches from the TV with the sound turned down so low it couldn't possibly disturb anyone and watch the colorful lines or just plain fuzz until cartoons would officially start. But that was being alert and awake for something enjoyable. I usually ended up being the first person awake at retreats in the Czech Republic as well, but that was because those rotten beds were all so hard that I couldn't sleep. Besides, being up early meant I had a nice chance to wander through the countryside alone and collect my thoughts before having to deal with a bunch of noisy and excitable Americans :)
The point to this trip down early morning memory lane, is that my new job has taken a turn with my scheduling. Over the past few months I've mostly been working early morning shifts. This is also nothing new for me. I worked as early as 5:15 AM doing janitorial work in college, and when I worked at the mill my shift also started at 7 AM just like stock did here. I can do mornings, I just don't really like them. Now everything has changed. All this week I'm working closing. We're talking 1:30 to 9:30. That's a big change.
Part of me likes this. I can sleep in. I don't have to force myself out of bed when it's still dark, and try to make friendly with people before the friendly light comes on inside my head. But the truth is, it's not a great schedule. Even if I do manage to get up early enough to get something done in the morning, the whole time I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting to go to work. And there's never that feeling of, "Work is over, and now I can just relax." When you get home at 9:30 or 10 all you want to do is kick back. How do you get things done at that time of day? It just doesn't happen for me. We watch a little TV, maybe play some Foosball, but that's about it.
My goal right now, considering my writing challenge and all, is to get some writing done in the mornings before I go to work. But life is full of distractions. It's hard to settle in and feel like I can really get much done. There is this never ending need to create excuses, rather than actually come up with something. I've got about 17 pages written or so, but every time I think I'm about to really get somewhere with it something comes up and I don't get to finish, or it's suddenly time to shovel down some food, change my clothes and go to work. I really want to complete this on time, but I can already see that I'm going to be just scraping by. Unfortunately, being the lowest person on the totem pole at the moment, it looks like this is the schedule I'm going to have to learn to deal with for the next couple months. Guess I just have to see how it all plays out, and fight with myself to find some way to get it all done.
The point to this trip down early morning memory lane, is that my new job has taken a turn with my scheduling. Over the past few months I've mostly been working early morning shifts. This is also nothing new for me. I worked as early as 5:15 AM doing janitorial work in college, and when I worked at the mill my shift also started at 7 AM just like stock did here. I can do mornings, I just don't really like them. Now everything has changed. All this week I'm working closing. We're talking 1:30 to 9:30. That's a big change.
Part of me likes this. I can sleep in. I don't have to force myself out of bed when it's still dark, and try to make friendly with people before the friendly light comes on inside my head. But the truth is, it's not a great schedule. Even if I do manage to get up early enough to get something done in the morning, the whole time I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting to go to work. And there's never that feeling of, "Work is over, and now I can just relax." When you get home at 9:30 or 10 all you want to do is kick back. How do you get things done at that time of day? It just doesn't happen for me. We watch a little TV, maybe play some Foosball, but that's about it.
My goal right now, considering my writing challenge and all, is to get some writing done in the mornings before I go to work. But life is full of distractions. It's hard to settle in and feel like I can really get much done. There is this never ending need to create excuses, rather than actually come up with something. I've got about 17 pages written or so, but every time I think I'm about to really get somewhere with it something comes up and I don't get to finish, or it's suddenly time to shovel down some food, change my clothes and go to work. I really want to complete this on time, but I can already see that I'm going to be just scraping by. Unfortunately, being the lowest person on the totem pole at the moment, it looks like this is the schedule I'm going to have to learn to deal with for the next couple months. Guess I just have to see how it all plays out, and fight with myself to find some way to get it all done.
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