Oh Mr. Blog, thank you for being here for me! Ugh.
I went to the Kenmore UPS store yesterday for my appointment with Craig Jones and he greeted me with, "Oh Gretchen, my lamination guy went out of business. Bankrupt."
I felt the floor opening me up and I was falling, falling, falling into the bottomless pit
of business startup complications. When I psychologically crawled up from the pit
I felt like my life was passing before my eyes. Pictures of friends and relatives spinning past.
So, I did what I always do. I gave myself a sharp, mental slap on my own face.
Ouchy. Nobody can kick my ass better than my own self. Seriously.
So I went to the counter with my huge box of stuff and Craig and I started talking turkey.
He is fantastic. His dad, Glenn Jones, was one of my dad's best friends.
Kenmore, The Next Generation! Hahahaha. *laughs at self*
So Connie arrived in her chronically late style and my blood pressure dropped back to normal.
She is the antidote for my chronically "out there" ideas. My personal anchor.
Lisa showed up so we showed her what we were doing and she had some great ideas.
She is so nice and her daughter is in my favorite top ten kids I sub with.
I like people Mr. Blog. I just think they are interesting and funny and full of good stories and fresh ideas.
So Craig made some calls and Connie and Lisa and I looked at the old 22" x 17" and compared it to the new 15" x 17" game. It got small because of the high cost of lams and the cut to bleed problem and the folding problem that seems endless... Until...
So we talked turkey till we turned blue then Connie and I went next door to Toshi's.
I LOVE Kenmore Toshi's Teriyaki. Kim and I were born the same year, 1956 and her kid John is already in college and her mom is STILL ALIVE in Korea. I'm pretty jealous about that.
Even though I don't cry as much over mom and Lyle now, I still miss them so much.
I couldn't pick many blackberries for years cause that was one of their favorite foods.
Blackberry cobbler.
It says it all: The joy of summer, the promise of industrious autumns. The shiny black segments that huge spiders will charge at you over with their swords drawn.
The stickiness of your purple hands and the snakes that slither past, stopping to glance at you as an inconsequential intruder in their world.
The sink full of soaking berries that you hope you can clean
before they ferment
and lead your teenagers into a life of alcoholism and hopelessness.
The scent of the lemon zest as you grate it into
the berries in your blue glass baking pan
that your wonderful mother-in-law Suzanne gave you.
The crunchy, gunky feel of the sugar and flour as you tenderly
mix them into the berries and try not to cry,
because it was your mom and dad's favorite.
*blows nose and wipes eyes*
So Connie says at lunch, "We can't work today."
And I say, "I'm coming to your house and we will assemble those last two games."
Her poor son was still sick but he said he didn't mind if we worked.
The four panel assembly is a A THING OF THE PAST.
Later on I called Steve-O and out of the blue he said,
"Perfs."
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