I adore my chickens. To me they are precious and irreplaceable, kinda of like my daughter. Only I love my daughter way more. I haven’t been able to spend as much time as I would like with either one of them. As a retail slave I’ve been serving the public for 14 years, 11 of those at one store. It is time for a change, so as the new year breaks I too am being granted a new start, a new opportunity. Today I close the chapter of my life called “The Feed Store” and begin a new chapter called “Miss Sara’s House”. The previous chapter is filled with good memories, like the time my co-workers chair broke and he landed on the floor while on the phone, never missing a beat. Or the time a mouse fell from the ceiling and landed on my head. Or the time the lights quit in the bathroom and I went in there in the dark and a rat was in the toilet. Okay, so that isn’t a ‘good’ memory, but it is kinda funny now. Or the time I forgot the alarm code and the cops showed up. Or the time we had to close early because hurricane Katrina was barreling in and I drove home feeling like I was on the set of Twister. Or the time I FORGOT to go to work and everyone clapped when I finally arrived with the keys. Or the time, okay it was more than one time, that I was handed wet money drawn from underneath a large, floppy boob. I have yet to figure out why anyone would want to store their currency in such an awkward location. They sell purses and wallets at Goodwill for a dollar. Sigh. On a brighter plane I got to fly in a plane several times to visit the Purina Research Farm in St. Louis. A very cool place. Then there was the time someone dropped off a fawn and I got to carry it around and feed it for several hours, until the foster mom showed up. Or the baby goat I got to bottle feed. Not to mention being solely in charge of the chick order each spring! Jacksonville has me to thank for the poofs, muffs, beards, splashes, naked necks and otherwise crazy cool chickens residing in coops across the county. Those peeping cardboard boxes with little round holes toted in carefully by the mailman always brought me joy. And I don’t care what anyone says, those Easter chicks dyed all the colors of the rainbow were awesome. PETA took care of that, so I’m told, but they were fun when we had them. They looked like Skittles with legs, running in circles and hopping about. Completely delightful! Then there was the time I ordered 25 geese for ‘Kenneth’. Only I lost ‘Kenneth’s’ phone number. I kept those stupid, honking geese for SIX WEEKS in a water trough at the store. Then one day Kenneth’s wife called to see if the geese were in. Miracles do happen!
But that chapter is such a very long part of my life’s book because I spent more time there than at home. John, my co-worker, knew I was expecting a baby even before my mom. He is referred to jokingly, as my ‘work husband’. Many of our customers think we ARE married. I quit correcting them about 6 years ago. Too much effort. But I am now moving on, leaving with a fond farewell and promises to visit often. I am going to work for a friend, Miss Sara. I will cook, I will clean, I will iron, I will sweep, I will polish. I may even garden a bit. And as I perform these tasks I will be able to hum off-key (because I can’t hum on-key), I will be able to live without fear of sweaty bra-contaminated money and am quite certain no mice will fall on my head. Most importantly I will be able to spend more time with my daughter. And my chickens. What matters most, in this chapter, is being able to work in a job that will actually help make a positive difference in someone’s life while having more time to make a positive difference in my own.
So bring it on 2015, I am ready! Who knows, I may even be a real blogger one day!
Notice I said “blogger” not “booger”. Oh the difference a letter or two can make!
Stripe-Stripe Heartily Approves this Message.